Fifty Shades You're My Angel
by Nor123
Summary: What if Christian's mother didn't die when he was 4 but when he was 13-14? What if he met Ana first when she was a just a child? What if Ana dates Luke? What if Ana and Christian's take a slightly different path to love than in the books? Read more to find out how it all unfolds. The title doesn't tell the full story... All original Characters and story belongs to E.L. James
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: In the Beginning

"Christian." The slurred, muddled voice of my mother ringing in my ears take me out of my happy place. Disgusted, I squeeze and open my eyes over and over before I turn in the direction of her voice. But I make no attempt to acknowledge her presence as she stammers closer to me; sadly, her footsteps are too unsteady to continue further into the cramp, dimly lit, unkempt room. I squeeze my eyes tightly close; in order, to regulate my too harsh breathing before reopening them to my mother's deplorable state. Sadly it's a state I've become all too familiar with over the years. Some of my earliest memories of my mother consist of her either being drunk, high, laid up with some man for money or in many cases a combination of all three. But of late, things have been worse than ever with sloppy drunk being a constant state of being for the woman. Considering the other choices, I choose drunk every time.

From my perch on the rickety chair with my back now facing the window, finally I give her my attention; if only to humor her because I have no intention of engaging her in a conversation. Why bother, it's useless when she's like this. She's incapable of stringing a simple sentence together less more carrying on a conversation; besides, from my experience in less than 30 seconds she'll be on the floor passed out. So in theory I could just sit where I am and wait her out, but I'm thirsty, so I stand to get a drink of water.

Her appearance is dreadful; she looks haggard, her hair is messy and unclean. Her too big shirt is hanging off one shoulder exposing her protruding bones. The shirt is soiled from cheap booze and probably smells of it too. Her body sways from side to side, in an attempt to keep her steady on her feet. Repulsed by the sight of her, I purposely walk around her leaning form as I make my way to the tiny spot we call a kitchen. Cold I know, but when you've had a front row seat to the destruction of your mother's life you become immune. She'll fall, and I'll pick her up, which is more than she can claim.

She's tries to pivot to follow me, but of course she's too drunk to make the maneuver successfully so instead she takes the inevitable tumble to the floor. I pause waiting for the soft thud; the sound her body will make when it comes in contact with the filthy carpeted floor. A sound I've heard way too many times in my young life, and I've often wondered what would happen if I just left her there. Would she wake up on her own? Or would she just drown in her vomit, a fate that would probably be the best for both of us. A way for of both to escape our miserable existence. In the rare moments I've actually seen her vacant eyes, I say living is a fate worse than death for her. I know I can say with certainty, living with her is a fate worse than death for me. That's why I've had to escape into my head as a method of survival.

When I finally hear it, I'm not deterred I continue to the tap for my water before going back to attend to her. I'm not worried about her hurting herself. For one, she isn't that tall, so she doesn't have far to fall. Secondly, we hardly have furniture in the apartment, so there are no sharp edges for her to hit her head. And finally she always ends up in the fetal position with her head resting on her arms. Strange I know; like the potato chip that always end up looking like Jesus or Mother Theresa. It's one of those phenomena that you can't explain.

Taking my last sip of water, I make the few short steps to where my mother's frail body lies passed out on the floor, head resting peacefully on her arms. Bending I snake my arm under her body so I can lift her; even at 13, I find it easy to perform this task because her lithe body offers no resistance for me. With her in my arms, I take deliberate steps to her bedroom, pausing at the doorway. This room holds horrid memories for me, and I avoid it as much as possible.

When I was younger, she would make me hide in the small dark closet while she entertained her Johns. She contended it was to protect me from the pimp from hell, but little help it was - I have the physical and literal scars to prove it. It is also the room where I first found her passed out from what was the first of many of her drug overdoses.

Growing up the son of Ella Morrison has not been a walk in the park. I've had to watch her do things no child should; abuse drugs and alcohol and sell her body. So as despicable as she is right now, I choose a drunken Ella over one with her lips wrapped around some man's lower appendage any day. Because of these less than pleasant occurrences, I developed an overactive imagination at an early age. It was my means of escaping my impossible surrounding filled with substance abuse, physical abuse, prostitution, and starvation. At least now that I'm older I'm able to provide subsistence for myself because when I was younger and depending solely on my mother I would go without food for days.

Thanks to school, I get a hot meal every day. When it's not open, I use the coins I pick up to get a burger from the dollar menu at Micky D's. Or I help out at the corner store where Mr. Sharif pays me in food. The crackwhore as I sometimes call her use to get food stamps, but she gave them to the pimp, so they were never a benefit to us. Now I doubt that she's even getting them. She rarely leaves the apartment anymore; so she can't sign up for food stamp or any other government assistance that explains why we pretty much live in squalor. The last time, I saw her leave this cramp, dark space was a few months ago, and she's been in a drunken drugged out stupor ever since.

I'm not a religious person by any means. Why should I be, what God would allow a child of his to be born into such horrid conditions? But I can give thanks to him for the mind he has blessed me with because it has allowed me to come up with a way to escape this madness until I'm able to walk away…That is if I survive. I've gotten so good at getting lost in my head, I've been able to create an alternate universe so real that sometimes I don't know where Christian Morrison ends and Christian Grey begins.

Christian Grey is the alter ego I assumed around 4 or 5 after I bonded with Elliott Grey and learning from him about adoption. He was my first and only friend; we met when my mother worked briefly for his parents. Ella would take me to work with her, and I loved it because the house always smelled of cookies and Elliott's mom was so pretty and sweet. I remembered that Elliott had tons of toys, and even though he was a few years older than me he was patient and would willingly share them. One day he surprised me by giving me his favorite green hot wheel car that I still have to this day. It remains one of my most cherished pieces. It was the first time anyone had ever given me anything that didn't come from a garbage can or the streets.

As much fun, as it was spending time with Elliott, being surrounded by his parents, gave me the most joy, especially his mom. I wanted desperately to be part of the Grey family. When he explained to me about being adopted, I became obsessed with the idea of the Greys adopting me like they did him; born in their hearts. At that age, it seemed like the best thing in the world. To have someone love you so much that they chose you. I wanted that more than anything…Food or the air I breathe. Because I never felt loved by my mother, but more like an inconvenience that was thrusted upon her. So whenever we went to the beautiful house that smelled of cookies, I would be on my best behavior. In my child's brain, that's all it took, behave well enough, smile enough and look cute enough and the Greys would choose me. After all, I needed saving too just like Elliott. Alas like everything else in my life I ever wanted it was not to be. We just stopped going, and my mother never gave me an explanation; one minute they were in my life and puff they were gone. I blamed myself for not being perfect enough for the perfect family, and that's why my mommy and I couldn't go back. It affected me so much; in the end my self-loathing took over and I withdrew into myself refusing to talk. Sadly, it didn't concern my mother, to her it was a blessing. Unfortunately, this was a defining moment in my life, it was proof I was not good enough, and I never would be. Feelings I harbor until this day.

To help soothe my heartache and self-loathing, I made myself a de facto member of the Grey family creating an alternate universe where they chose me. Strangely when I escape to this place deep in the recesses of my mind, I'm not my age but older and successful beyond belief; a master of my universe type if you will. Someone every woman wanted and every man wanted to be like. Oddly I always saw a clear path to world domination, but never one that lead to a relationship with any of these adoring women. Ironically I was as socially inept in my alternate universe as I am in the real world.

This doesn't bother me because I'm incapable of having a relationship with a girl. Not because I'm gay, I wish it was that simple, but it's much more complicated. I hate being touched, because of the torture from the pimp. Hearing my mother with her Johns, has ruined sex for me but the biggest issue; the thought of having a girlfriend makes me violently ill. I don't why, but it does.

Regardless of my opinions, my classmates viewed me as odd, which is saying something since the student body is made up of mostly misfits and outcasts if you ask me. We're all from low-income families and is a racially diverse group. The white students were in the minority, but none of that mattered, we all came from so little we're equal despite our ethnic or religious backgrounds. We're all shunned by those who have more and can afford to attend a private school or the public schools in better neighborhoods.

In my household, we can't afford to buy food less more clothes. So I wear the same outfit every day; I just have to make sure I wash them at night in the bath tub. My hair is usually a disheveled mess that I cut myself but lucky for me it does nothing to detract from my good looks. The same God that blessed me with my mind blessed me with a face all the girls admired. I often wondered if they would feel the same way, if they knew how damaged I was inside. I'm not bothered by not having a girl in my life, to me they are all awkward looking except for Portia Mitchell.

She takes my breath away, but unlike the other girls on the campus she isn't swayed by my face. I doubt she knows I exist, but every chance I get I watch her. Her skin is the most beautiful shade of brown I've ever seen, with big doe brown eyes to match, and she keeps her hair in long braids. Reminiscent of the photos I've seen in National Geographic of the beautiful African Warrior Princesses. I'm not brave enough to approach her and even if I was brave it would be a waste of my time because Portia is way out of my league. She likes the upperclassmen, and I've only seen her with black boys. She stuck with her people. So a poor white boy like me didn't stand a chance with the regal African Warrior Princess, which is just as well because I would mess it up.

After summoning the courage to walk through the door, I place the small figure on the bed. I leave her in her baggy, dirty clothes, but I wipe her feet before sliding them under the thread worn sheets. I try to look away, but I can't help but push the brown hair that is covering her face behind her ear. The life she has lived has taken a toll on her appearance though she's barely over thirty; my mother looks like a woman much older. Here once, creamy skin is sallow, and the lines on her face are reminders of a troubled life lived. She's a shadow of the woman I remembered as a toddler. And maybe it's because I'm feeling sentimental, when I push the hair away from her face, I swear she smiled a heartwarming smile. For the briefest of moments, I saw the young woman hidden away from me. But as quickly as she appears, she disappears, and I'm left staring at the face of the woman who has been beaten down by her circumstances.

I know very little of my mother's life before me, except for the small tidbit she has shared with me on the rare occasion we've actually had a conversation and she was not high on something. She grew up in a middle-class family somewhere on the Eastern part of the US, for reasons unbeknownst to me she has never divulged where. From her accent, I think it's the Southeast. She was the eldest of two girls so with her mother and father she grew up in a household of four and from the last I've heard they are all still alive. And after 13 years with the woman that's sum of what I know of my grandparents and aunt. Which is fine because I've never yearned for them, that emotion was saved for my de facto family?

"Oh Ella. What happen to you?" I whisper the question that plagues me. How could someone go from living a middle-class existence to one filled with drugs and prostitution? Unfortunately, I doubt I will ever get the answer. My eyes scan the small room falling on the closet that haunts me in my dreams. My gaze is transfixed on it, as memories of my times in there come flooding back. It's dark, I'm scared and I can't stop crying despite the warnings from my mother to stay quiet. I want out because there are monsters in here. My thoughts are so vivid; I can feel my body stiffen as I think back on the options. The pimp and his cigarettes on the other side or the darkness with the monsters, then the sad realization settles in; the monsters are everywhere. So with no place to go I obey my mommy and stop crying like a big boy, instead close my eyes whimpering in silence for the monsters to stay away. The words play out in mind, they are in my small little boy voice and it feels like I've been transported back there again. My body visibly shaking, I end my trip down scary lane. I quickly move to turn off the shadeless lamp on the box masquerading as a bedside table before exiting the room quietly closing the door behind me.

Walking past the couch that is my bed, I make my way back to the shaky chair in front of the dreary Detroit sky; in order, to clear my mind before going to sleep. At night, an entirely different kind of element takes over the streets. As you can imagine we don't live in the best part of the city, so the sounds of cars screeching, trains roaring, bulletins flying and people yelling makes up the soundtrack of my life. So to help dull the sounds around me and the voices in my head, often I plug my found ear plugs into my found small radio that can only get one station. Which happen to be Classical? Until I found the radio, I had never heard of the music but once I heard Bach I knew I found my reason for existing. So when I need to sleep, think or hide, I put in my plugs and get lost in Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, and the rest of the masters. Though I've never played a piano or seen one in real life, I imagine my fingers gliding across the black and white keys as I play one of the tunes to perfection.

As much as I despise where we live, I'm happy we have a roof over our heads. If the landlord isn't threatening to throw us out, the city is threatening to condemn the building. I vacillate between caring and not caring because I'm old enough to take care of myself which is pretty much my goal.

I have my routine worked out to a science. I leave for school early enough to avoid the rift rafts and for the most part I'm home before the streets get too bad. This schedule doesn't allow time for me to participate in any extra curriculum activities which work for me; I have no friends and no desire to make any. I have my imagination, Bach and the others to keep me company. My dreaming wide awake is starting to turn into just plain dreaming so I decide to give into sleep and make my way to the lumpy, dirty sofa.

_The day started out like any other, but when my named is called over the speaker to come to the office I could feel it would be different. So as soon as the Principal has the words out of his mouth, I'm out the door. Not caring about gangs or any of the troublemakers, I rush to my mother's side. I'm not sure how I made it to hospital, but before I know it, I'm running down the hall to her room.

I've seen her passed out before, but she looks different lying in a hospital bed; at peace almost. I never saw her as part of my future plans and until now I never questioned that hypothesis. I'm ill prepared for this. Faced with the alternatives, I want her around.

"Christian," she says in a whisper, as she runs her fingers through my hair, and I revel in the feeling of the tips of her fingers against my scalp. I don't immediately move to lift my head from where I have it resting at her side because I don't want her to stop. But slowly I do, because I'm eager to meet her gaze for the first time in like forever. I want to confirm that she's okay. Did she suffer an overdose and someone found her on the street are the questions playing around in my head. Without knowing what brought her here, I already feel guilty for not being there for her. I'm always there for her, regardless of how much I resent it.

"You're awake," I state the obvious as I take her small hand in mine. It's taking a moment like this for us to have this intimate contact. For me to realize what I have. It's not much, but it has to be worth something.

"Oh I'm so glad you came," she says as she struggles to sit up in the bed. My mother's voice isn't colored by the booze or drugs so it sounds clear. It's music to my ear more beautiful than 'Transcriptions' by Bach.

"No, mom. You shouldn't be doing that. You're going to hurt yourself," I say horrified as she struggles to sit up in the bed.

"Hush Christian I'm fine, calm down. I have to. I want to be able to talk to you," she whispers and gives me a shy smile that blows me away, but it is also shielding something. How I've lived for that smile, I smirk to myself, and it's taken a hospital stay for me to get it finally. Everything I've wanted from my mother is playing out in front of me. I vow to myself that once I get her home I'm going to embrace this life with her and not live in the one in my head.

"I know I've never said this to you but I'm so proud of you. Hell let's face it I've never been sober long enough to say very much to you. But I am proud. You are my beautiful boy inside and out. That's why it slays me that you were forced to live in such a lowly existence. I've never deserved you," she says sincerely once she's in her desired position. Hearing her talk like this is starting to scare me. Where the hell is this coming from? I may want this, but this is not us.

"Stop. We don't do this kumbaya shit," I say more hostile than I intended. It's the fear and loss of control that's coming through. I don't know what's going on, and I feel lost.

"Maybe it's time that we did. You don't have to talk. But I need you to listen Christian. I haven't been up front with you. But you've probably figured that out because you're so smart. I'm sick," she says, and I can tell she's trying to keep the tears back. "No. I'm more than sick. I'm dying." I put my finger to her lips to silence to keep the words from leaving her mouth, but she wasn't having it. Summoning all her strengths, she pushed my finger away.

My mom was dying. Ella Morrison, crackwhore, was dying. She says the words calmly like she's telling me she's going to the store instead saying words that are killing me softly. Unsure of how to react, motionless I sit waiting for the words to sink in or to wake up from this nightmare I'm not sure which. Less than 24 hours ago I debated the pros and cons of her death, but now that it's a probability there are no pros to her dying. For the first time in a very long time, I'm speechless and unsure of how I'm supposed to feel.

"I'm not going to be with you much longer and the way I see it it's for the best. You will have a better life without me than you've ever had with me. Not because I didn't want to be a good mother, I didn't know how. So I'm going to do for you now, what I should've done for you when you were born," she says softly, as she cups my cheeks. I feel her wipe away a tear with the pad of her thumb that I didn't realize I had shed. "Don't cry baby," she whispers as she leans in to kiss me over my eyes. When I open them in the reflection, I see the tears streaming down her face now. She is so pretty, why I've never seen it before, boggles my mind. But I don't think I've ever seen her.

"I'm going to let you live with your father," she continues and I lose it.

"My father," I yell out, throwing her hand from my face to the bed. Quickly, the sentimental moment we just shared is forgotten by both us. "I've never heard you mention a father to me in my life. Now you expect me to go live with him. And how is that supposed to be better for me? When I'm sure he's probably worse than you are," I seethe. I regret the last part; as soon as, the words leave my mouth. That might have been my feelings 24 hours ago but not now.

"I guess I deserved that," she says reaching her arms out for me seeing that I've moved to the other side of the room. "But as it turns out the other thing I got right in my life aside from you is the man that is your father. I would like to be able to tell you we had a love story, but we didn't. I mean I had very strong feelings for him but he didn't feel the same way for me, but he's a good man. An exceptional man actually. You already know him." I stare at her and as the trail of pimps and Johns play out in my mind and the thought of one of them being my father is making me sick.

"What I'm going to tell you is going to blow your mind but I need you to hear me out. I have no need to keep it from you any longer, considering the situation," she says but I'm too busy pacing to hear her.

I guess I'm not the man I thought I was, after all because right now I don't want a dad, I want a mom. All I want to do is take her out of that bed back to that dirty, cramped apartment. Be damned a father, we've gotten along this long without one. We don't need anyone we have each other. I'm not a man; I'm a not even a big boy, I'm a little boy, and I want my mom. No, I want my mommy, but instead of telling her that I revert to what comes naturally in our family dynamics. I lash out at her.

"This is what you do. Leave. You always leave. When I need you - you leave. Maybe not physically but you always leave. You escape to the bottom of a bottle, the end of a needle or underneath a man. Either way you've never been available to me. When will it ever be my turn? When will I be your priority? When will you love me? Now when I need you most, you're about to leave me forever," I scream, and I can no longer keep them back. I'm bawling, and the sobs almost bring me to my knees.

"Christian, Christian, Christian," she calls to me and she looks gutted. "Come here." My mother's arms are open wide inviting me in and this time I don't hesitate I run into them.

"Baby. If I could. I would stay. And I'm sorry I couldn't be present for you, but you're my big boy…" I start to push out of her embrace, but she pulls me back in but not before I chastise her.

"Don't say that I hate it when you call me your big boy. I'm not." I sniffle, and she sighs taking in what I've said.

"Fair enough." That's it. Nothing more profound to acknowledge my admission. I sigh and lay my head on her chest to let her continue. "But as I was about to say, I'm going to make it up to you. You're going to live a life beyond your imagination," she says as she rubs circles on my back and kiss the top of my head.

"I doubt it," I whisper against the strands of her hair that I pulled to my nose. It's clean for a change. I guess they washed it when she arrived.

"Look at me," she says nudging me slightly on my shoulders so I can look at her. "I'm not coming home and I'm not leaving you. The one good thing coming out of this mess is this. We're coming to terms with each other. Now back to what I was saying." She drops her hands from my shoulders pausing before resuming to speak.

"Do you remember Elliott?" She asks taking me by surprise. What does Elliott have to do with this I wonder?

"Yes of course I do."

"Carrick Grey is your father." She blurts out like it's nothing.

How can she be so nonchalant about everything? I jump from my seat on the side of her bed. Speechless I stare her down. Is this her idea of a joke? Is this a game to her? Is she privy to my dreams? That's impossible because it's all in my head, I don't keep a diary and never have I shared any of it with her. I'm dumbfounded.

My mother's impending death is hitting me harder than I ever imagine it would and ironically the knowledge that Carrick Grey is my father is doing nothing to soothe the ache. The mother that I've prayed would just die already may actually die and the man I dreamed of one day being my dad may actually be my dad. I don't know what parallel universe this is, apparently the joke's on me. My whole life has been a lie, not just the one I lived in my head, but the one I lived out loud too.

"Say something," she pleads.

"Fuck you," I scream at her and she lets out an audible gasp as I storm out the door. I hear her calling to me, but I don't let it stop me this time. I've used some foul language in front of my mother, but I've never been so cruel. But I needed her to feel what I was feeling, and lashing out is the only way I know how to deal with any extreme feelings.

Outside I let the snow hit my face as I try to take in the bombshell my mom has just leveled on me. As if dying wasn't enough, she had to top it by naming Carrick Grey of all people, as my father. So my dreams could come true, I could be Christian Grey instead of Christian Morrison. Then why I am not celebrating in the streets? It's what I've always wanted. But not like this. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. She always destroying everything for me. They were supposed to choose me not have me forced upon them. I wanted to be born in their hearts, now this situation mirrors what happened to my mother. I was forced on her; that's why she could never love me. They will never love me.

My jacket isn't thick enough to keep the cold at bay, so I walk to the coffee house next to the hospital. I pull out the saved coins and buy a muffin. It's not enough for a coffee too, so I settle for a paper cup to use for the free water at the end of the counter. Since we rarely have food at home, I can get by on little.

I look outside and notice that the daylight has turned into darkness, so I decide to suck it up and go back to my mom's room. I didn't realize I had been gone for so long, but the time away from her has done me good. I've had time to let her words marinate so now I'm ready to hear what she has to say. Though I can't imagine what she's going to say that would make sense to me. Carrick Grey is married to Dr. Grey a woman as close to Godliness as you can get on earth, so I don't see him straying to have an affair with the likes of my mother. And if he did she's has trampled on my idea of the perfect father figure, thus tainting the notion of the Greys being the perfect family. However, this time I will give her a chance to explain before blowing up.

I filled the cup with water one last time, before stepping into the cold brisk air. There's an ominous feeling when I'm back in the hospital. I think nothing of it, I chalk it up to the hospital setting and press the button for the elevator. Nonchalantly I step off the cold box and start to lazily make my way down the hall towards my mother's room, but the scene unfolding in front of me catches me off guard. Drs and Nurses are walking out of her room one by one with their heads down looking solemn and furiously removing gloves from their hands.

"Mommy," I scream out as I pick up my pace bolting toward the room. The paper cup I'm holding slips out of my hand crashing to the floor leaving a small poodle of water in my wake. But I could care less, I need to get to my mom. One of the nurses spots me and waits for me at her doorway. The wait isn't long because I'm there in less than two seconds

"Are you her son?" She asks but I'm too busy breathing hard, screaming and fighting as I try desperately to make my way past her to answer. "Answer me," she demands as a male nurse comes over to help her control me.

"Yes," I finally get out breathing harder.

"I'm sorry young man but she…your mother has passed away." The nurse hesitates, but the words leave her mouth and despite the two hands at either side of my shoulders the words cause my knees to buckle and I collapse to the floor. The tears are streaming hot and heavy down my face as my cries get caught in my throat so when I open my mouth nothing comes out. The anguish is deep in my gut and when the sounds do finally reach the surface it's a howling so intense it hurts my ears. Lying limply in the arms of the female nurse on the floor with me I bury my head in the crook of her arms as she cradles me. No matter how hard she tries, my body won't stop shaking, nor will the sounds coming from my body. I don't recognize the young man on the floor, I've never felt such intense emotions.

When she said dying, I never dreamed she meant now…Today. How could've I've anticipated that she would deteriorate so fast? I thought I had time with her. If I'm truly honest with myself, I never thought it would actually happen. She's escape death so often. I had seen her in worse shape, and she always woke up. This time she was wide awake, so how could've I've foreseen today was the day. Overlooking the obvious, if I had stayed I would've have known. How did I let her die alone, I was so close yet it might as well have been a life-time away.

"All I want is to go home. Let me take her home. She's okay. She's asleep. I know how to take care of her. She'll wake up. My Mommy always wakes up," I plead. My voice so hoarse I'm not sure she heard me. My throat is raw, I can't talk any louder. She continues rocking me in her arm like a baby and I make no move to get up.

"Not this time. I'm sorry," she says trying to fight back her own tears. "Is there someone I can call for you?" She asks. This time her voice is steadier and firmer.

"No. She's all I have," I sniffle, I as I begin to pull myself together. "Can I see her? I just want to see her one last time?" The tears are still falling and voice still hoarse, but I'm in more control of my emotions.

"Are you sure you're okay to see her?" I nod my head and she starts to lift taking me with her.

"Okay then. Let me help you up. I'll go in with you," she says as we rise together. I look up, and I see her signal to the male nurse and he steps back to the desk.

We walk through the door of the cold, sterile room together, but nurse stays back giving me my privacy. Slowly I make my way to the bed holding the woman lying there so peacefully. It is then that I realize this time is different. She isn't passed out because she ended up at the losing end of a bottle. Her expression isn't tortured, it's peaceful she has a death afterglow if that makes sense. In an ironic twist of fate, she looks for more alive in death than she ever did living. A youthfulness has return to her face, her skin looks flawless, and the stress of 30 years of hard living is gone.

Silently I stand over the bed taking her in. The only coherent thought running through my mind is that she's lied to me again and she left me. Irrational I know. When in a cruel twist of fate, I'm the one, who left her when she needed me most.

"Christian?" The nurse calls to me and I avert my gaze from my mother's body.

"This is for you. Another nurse handed it to me. She said your mother asked her to give it to you in case of her death." She steps in further to hand it to me, and I meet her half way. I take the note from her before walking to a chair in the corner. Feeling the need to be alone when I read it, I let the nurse watching over me know it was okay for her to leave. Reluctantly she exits. Finally alone, I open the letter, and the script is in my mother's shaky handwriting. She must have been pretty weak when she wrote it.

_Christian,_

_If you're reading this letter, it means that I've gone to a better place at least I hope. But considering my life on earth hell is a better place which is good because that is where I will end up for sure. Enough about me. You wanted my attention well now you have it. You're my beautiful, smart and wise son. I could never live or die enough lifetimes to make up for the shitty life I gave you. Selfishly I thought it was going to be me, and you against the world and it would be an adventure. I was too young to realize the consequences of my decision when I decided to keep you instead of letting you go with your father. I was too young and naïve to understand the cold reality of life. I don't have enough time or energy to tell you how I fell into such a miserable life of abuse but please know I was not on drugs or selling my body when I got pregnant with you. I was a typical teenager living an ordinary life._

_Carrick Grey is your father and no he was never my John, in case the thought is still in that head of yours. He was a business associate of my father and I seduced him when he came into town for a business trip. I convinced him I was of age, so please don't think poorly of him. We only had sex once, but he did visit with me whenever he came into town. Like the naïve girl I was, I thought he loved me and would leave his wife for me? That is why I left home and traveled to Detroit. That's when I found out he disappeared because he was afraid of being accused of sleeping with a minor. So, needless to say, when I told him I was pregnant he was not happy. He threatened to take you from me and raise you with his wife never letting her know the truth. That sent me into a tailspin, so I backed down because with his money I knew I would lose and I didn't want to lose my baby._

_Despite his initial anger, for a while he did feel sorry for me and convinced his wife to let me work for them. But then he saw that I was getting too close to him, so he had me fired and took his family away from Detroit. Though I later heard it was because his wife got a job in Seattle. The reason doesn't matter, it sent me further into my downward spiral. _

_When I found out I was sick, I took what little money I had and tracked him down online and explained to him the situation. Through some miracle, he and his wife have agreed to take you in. Baby I know you're mad at me but please don't squander this opportunity. Please let me do for you what I couldn't do when I was alive. You have a chance to have a real home, with a real mom and dad and real siblings. Don't mess it up, _

_Mommy_

When I'm done, I crumble the paper up and let it fall to the floor as I stand to my feet. Even in the face of death she can't say it. She wrote a long note, with a lot of words but never mentioned the three words that mattered to me…I love you. Sure she loved him, but not me. If she had put it down on paper, maybe I could make sense out of this. Her death would have meant something, now it's in vain. She lost her last remaining chance to make up to me what she never gave me.

The only love I ever felt was what I created in my head, but it wasn't tangible. In the dark recesses of my mind, it was a perfect escapism, but it was my imagination. And now it's ruined. She destroyed the foundation. It was supposed to stay in my head where I could protect it; there was no way the two worlds were supposed to collide. Yet this is exactly what is about to happen. I feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone. Regardless of her intentions, she has wrecked it for me. I wasn't supposed to be forced upon them like I was with her. They were supposed to choose me. Otherwise, I'm in the same predicament…Unwanted and unloved.

Solemnly I walk out the room prepared to make my way back to my prison cell now my apartment but I am not ready to leave her just yet. So I turn on my heels to go back into the room where I shove the chair choosing to kneel where I can rest my head on my folded arms at her side. Small sobs escape me as I try to feel the closeness of my mother for the last time. In the short time, her body has begun to go cold, any signs of warmth gone. I'm still finding it hard to process, but the rigor mortis that's starting to set in confirms what I don't want to believe…She's dead. It's all starting to make sense. Her drunkenness, the rapid weight loss and I missed it because I was too busy seeing the worse of her.

"Why couldn't you love me? All I wanted was your love. That would've been enough. You were enough. I'm alone. I'm scared." My voice is small; once again I'm that little boy in that dark closet. This time I'm surrounded by the monsters. The thought is troubling. Considering my mother's pension for everything that was bad for her, the thought of being without her was never far from my mind. So I told myself I was indifferent about the prospect. In reality, I am not I loved this woman flaws and all, but I will never forgive her and I will work to my dying days to forget her. I bury my head at her side while the tears come to a trickle, and I hear a man's voice behind me. I haven't heard it in ages, but I know who it belongs too without looking.

"Christian," he calls again and I hold my head up before rising slowly to my feet. Standing I turn and soon I come face to face with Carrick Grey, my father. Even in the distance, he looks the same and so does his wife Mrs. Grey, who is standing next him dabbing her eyes with a white napkin.

He's looking at me awkwardly, as his wife makes the first move towards me. She steps in front of him, and it is then that I realize the napkin is actually a handkerchief. The closer she gets, the more her face comes into focus and I can see her red-rimmed eyes. A sign that she's been crying for a while, and I know her motherly instincts are kicking in because she reaches for me, but I have to stop her. Taken aback she freezes, and her face is crestfallen as Mr. Grey comes to her side.

"Sorry lady welcome to my world," I chuckle to myself. It's a nervous laughter that does nothing to cut through the pain that's filling my chest.


	2. Chapter 2: Coping Together

Chapter 2- Coping Together

A/N: This is my first story. Please review if you like it. My recap isn't a good one so I hope you find that the story is much better.

**Disclaimer: **Original story and characters belong to EL James, Fifty Shades of Grey

A crooked smile gradually creeps across my face as the neon pink folded paper taped to my apartment door starts to come in to view. I'm positive it's a note from Cassie; it's her telltale color and she's done this shit before in her relentless pursuit of me. Shaking my head, I plunge my key in the lock as I snatch the paper and give it a quick perusal before stuffing it in the front pocket of my Levi's.

Cassie Green, is the quintessential Southern Belle with a well-placed twang to her voice to prove it; her face is that of an angel but her body was built for sin. And if her words are any indication, she's a guy's dream, an angel in the kitchen and a devil in the bedroom. I have to admit, if I weren't attached I would be tempted to take a taste of Ms. American honey, but I have a very talented girl back home. While I don't have many redeeming qualities, monogamy is one and it doesn't matter how hard she tries Cassie is delusional if she thinks she's going to get me to break. She doesn't know me, hmm, there's a thought perhaps I should school her. If she knew the monster behind the face, that would cause her to take pause.

I sling my backpack to the sofa and I toss around the idea, as I walk back to my bedroom to throw a few things in a bag to pack for my trip to Seattle. My stomach is rumbling, but I decide I'll pick something up at the airport since I'm pressed for time. I'm heading home for my parents Coping Together Gala, but I'm arriving a day ahead of schedule to spend some uninterrupted time with my girl who I desperately need. It's been over a month since I've fucked so saying it's about time would be an understatement.

I'm a control freak, so I've covered my tracks well with Grace and Carrick keeping them in the dark about my shenanigans. We continue to have problems in our relationship, but at the end of the day I don't want to disappoint them so I'll show up, like the dutiful son in time for the affair. Despite my initial objection to everything Coping Together, I've grown to look forward to this Gala. Grace developed as the primary fundraising arm for her Coping Together non-profit organization. She created Coping Together soon after they took me in with the mission of providing assistance and in-house support to drug addicted single mothers who have no place to go. She doesn't say it, but it's to prevent them from befalling a similar fate as my birth mother and me.

When they first ran the idea for the non-profit by me, selfishly I objected mightily. I wasn't thrilled about being the poster child for every crackwhore and brat in the state of Washington. However, I quickly came around when I saw the number of women and children the organization was able to help in a short time. So my siblings and I dress the part to help our parents raise as much money as possible for the worthy cause. I may be accepting of the event, but I'm looking forward to skipping out early this year. I turned 18 so I'm going to follow in Elliot's path. He shows his face and immediately ducks out.

Eighteen. I can't believe it's been almost 5 years that I've lived with the Greys. Disastrous, is only how my first year with them can be described. I was unrecognizable because, a scowl was always plastered on my face and I carried a chip on my shoulder so large it weighed me down. Essentially the family was my punching bag. I took my frustration out on them when they were the people who wanted to help me the most. At the time, I didn't see it that way, to me they represented everything that was wrong in my life and had gone wrong in my life. My emotions were all over the place; in front of me was the perfect family I idolized and spent the majority of my young life yearning to be a part of yet I was finding it hard to fit in. More troubling, I was fairly certain I no longer wanted to.

In my imagination it was much simpler, I had the control. But in real life, I was forced to relinquish some of that control and I felt like I was thrown in the deep end and could only tread water. The saying be careful what you wish for never rang so true. Life indeed was a bitch, in a tragic twist of fate everything I ever wanted was right there in front of me and all I had to do was reach out and grab the lifeline. But I was too busy being miserable to see it; I felt like I was still in that tiny, dirty apartment. Sure the address was different, but the pain and the nightmares were the same.

My relationship with Carrick was at the center of my struggles. I was finding it hard to process the idea that he was my father. The thought was revolting to me, which messed with my head because for so long I revered the man. I couldn't reconcile the man I respected as Elliot's adopted father with the man who was now my biological father. Elliott's father would never cheat on his wife and positively he would never abandon his child leaving him to struggle in abject poverty with an unfit teenage mother, but that's exactly what my father did. So I despised him, he proved all my insecurities and self- loathing were true…I was not good enough and not worthy of love.

Because of the chasm that existed between Carrick and me, the solid relationship I once had with Elliot was in peril. We were having a difficult time connecting in our new roles. But Elliot being Elliot didn't let that hinder him for long, soon he was reaching out to me and past all my crap. Thus gradually, we were able to mend our friendship and forge a brotherly bond.

Mia was the one truly bright spot in the Grey family. She was too young to understand all the baggage that came with me so when I looked in her eyes I saw no judgment. Ironically it was her who gave me the first glimpse of what unconditional love looked like. To me she was a clean slate because she wasn't adopted by the Greys when I knew them, so she didn't have to worry about not living up to my unrealistic expectations. In short fashion, she became one of my favorite people not just in the family but the world. Proving that in some instances real life can be better that what you imagine

But it was Dr. Grace Trevelyan Grey that offered me my biggest challenge. Not because she was difficult, just the opposite. She was compassionate, understanding and showed me unconditional love when I did nothing to deserve it. I couldn't find my footing with her because I was confused by my feelings. I wanted to reciprocate but I wasn't emotionally equipped to do so, and above all I felt guilty. Guilty for sharing with her what I never did with my birth mother. And there was resentment because I saw in her glimpses of the crackwhore. They were polar opposites, but they shared one thing in common; they both loved a man that I saw as undeserving of their love.

Carrick Grey abandoned my mother when she needed him most, leaving her and me vulnerable to the horrible circumstances of life and he cheated on a woman who could only be viewed as a saint on earth. I understood why the crackwhore remained loyal to him to the end, she didn't have options. But I didn't understand why Grace, who had so much to offer, would continue to support a man who not only cheated on her, but fathered a child with an underage girl no less.

I wanted him in prison for what he did to my birth mother and on the streets for breaking his marriage vowels to her. However, none of this was on the table, so I was forced to deal with the man and I was failing it at miserably. Though my language skills were advanced considering my inferior public school education, I adopted grunted as my official language rendering me non-commutative a majority of the time and my anger management skills were non-existent. My fighting was so rampant, I was thrown out of at least three schools, forcing Carrick and Grace to seriously consider homeschooling as a valid option for me. As if they weren't dealing with enough of my shit, I found Carrick's booze.

Every time I stared to the bottom of the amber liquid I saw her, but that wasn't enough to deter me from taking a drink, risking heading down a similar path. The truth is I didn't want to stop, the numbness dulled the ache and for the first time I understood why the crackwhore found comfort in a bottle. As scary as the prospect was of ending up like her, I preferred the numbness to the pain. I just wanted it go away so I continued along this out of control, disruptive path until my adoptive parents convened an intervention. They forced me to work at their's friend house for the summer and that's where I found an unexpected savior.

Sure what she had to offer me was unorthodox, but in her I found something I didn't realize I was looking for. A way to cope that was void of human emotions. Because of her I got my shit together, gain some control and here I am today a freshman at Harvard. Something I couldn't have imagined back then.

The Greys were not the picture perfect family I conjured up in my mind, they were flawed like the rest of us; it was the package that gave an air of perfection. I was a prime example of such packaging, a pretty face, but just below the surface was ugliness and darkness bubbling up. In the end, none of it mattered, even flawed I saw the Greys as close to perfection as I was going to get and that was good enough for me. Too bad I would never be good enough for them.

Wow, that was fucking amazing is the only adjective that runs through my mind to describe another mind blowing orgasm. The third, if I were counting that is, and it may not sound like a lot but it's just 6 am and we've only been up for an hour. And this is after an all-night fuck-a-thon last night. After all these years she still has the ability to make me come like it's my first time when it most certainly is not.

As the last bit of my orgasm courses through me, I open my eyes and slowly lift my head from where it is buried in the crook of her neck. Her skin is soft and she smells like home. I breathe in her scent one last time before coming up on my elbows to hover over her. I get a bird's eye view of her stunning and sensual face. She looks just as satiated as I am, regardless of how hard she tries to hide it. I can't resist, I lower my body by the elbow so I can capture her mouth in a passionate kiss.

"I'll never get enough of you," I whisper against her lips before rolling over to my side of the bed.

"You won't have to," she purrs as she straddles me pinning my arms above my head.

This should be good I think to myself.

Finally arriving in front to the big white mansion on the well-appointed grounds, I sit in the rental for a moment to inspect my appearance one last time. I barely recognize my mug in the rearview mirror and not because I'm dogged tired, but because my damn hair is too long. On cue, I blow some strands from in front of my eyes, as I try desperately to mask my exhaustion. I hoped to conceal what I've been up to for the last 24 hours; I've made it this far I don't want to blow it now.

Thankfully my relationship with Grace and Carrick has improved tremendously, I embrace them as my parents even if the moniker I use doesn't always reflect that. I vacillate between calling them mom and dad or their first names and there is nothing that dictates which moniker I will use. Since, they are under the illusion that I'm just arriving home from Harvard, I will need to remember that I'm coming from the airport, and not from a wild night and morning of sex.

Accepting that my appearance is as good as it's going to get, I exit the car and slowly make my way to the front door. I open it quietly in hopes of surprising Grace and whatever family member is present. But I quickly abandon that plan, when I see Grace about to lift a vase, filled with flowers, the size of Mount Rushmore. Letting my bags drop unceremoniously to the tiled floor I rush towards her.

"Fuck," I yell as I scramble across the foyer to reach her in time. Startled she removes her hand from the monstrosity before swiveling in my direction and she sees me barreling towards her at her at full force.

"Oh my God Christian. You scared me," she says resting a hand over her heart.

"I'm sorry. Let me do that," I say breathing hard as I rush past her to quickly pick up the monster from the counter.

"That," she says waving her hand at the object. "Come here give me a kiss first." She takes the same hand and motions for me to come in for a kiss. I lean over and bend down slightly to give her a quick peck on the forehead. As much as, she would like to, due to my phobia she's careful not to touch me or be overly affectionate. I've overcome a lot since moving in with them, but sadly this wasn't one of them.

Grace Trevelyan Grey is the sweetest woman on earth, when they took me in she embraced me wholeheartedly and she's the love of my life. She's put up with my shit all these years; never complaining, in fact she has loved me through it. I was so undeserving of her unconditional love, but she was always there whispering in my ear, "Let me love you back to life." She said it was because she remembered me as that sweet coppered hair little boy that ran through her house and she wanted to restore that spark to my eyes.

She amazed me. I wasn't flesh of her flesh, I wasn't her choice, in fact, I was a constant reminder of her husband's infidelity, but she loved me in spite of it all. My own mother couldn't do that and I was the flesh of her flesh. Because Grace had the ability to see the good in me when I couldn't, she was able to help me successfully overcome many of my demons. But still she can't touch me to this day, something she's been aching to do since that faithful night. Hell no one in my family can touch me in my upper region thus they've never been able to hug me. A sad commentary I know, which is why it astounds me that this family can love me at all, when you take into consideration all my fucked-up-ness.

I have a moment of clarity and I lean back in to give her another kiss. This time l let my lips linger at the spot on her forehead a moment longer, in an attempt to take the sting away of denying he her right as my mother to embrace me. The act is simple, but the expression on her face says it all. She's overwhelmed with emotions, but she keeps them contained takings my feelings into consideration. She's the perfect mother that way, putting the needs of her children first. She knows how I feel about people being too demonstrative towards me.

"You're not too old for me to put you in time out you know," she chastises me for the language I used earlier trying to sound stern but failing.

"Yes ma'am," I respond in a military cadence being a smart ass. "Sorry, but in my defense you scared me when I saw you about to pick this..." I stare down at the object, suddenly at a loss for what to call it. "I didn't want you to hurt yourself." I complete the thought, but not before she giggle reminding me that it's called a vase.

She smirks and points her chin towards the picture window in the next room and I see the identical arrangement resting in a place of prominence on a white pedestal at one side of the large picture window.

"Who do you think put that one there?" She proclaims proudly putting her hands on her hip in a not so Grace Grey like fashion. "And it's a flower arrangement in case you didn't know." She smiles and I resist rolling my eyes at her instead I lift the massive arrangement walk it to the empty pedestal on the other side of the window.

"Perfect. Now come and let me get you something to eat. You must be hungry?" I follow her out of the room across the foyer to the kitchen.

"I'm so glad you could make it," She says when we enter the kitchen before going to the refrigerator. Meanwhile, I make my way to one of the stools at the breakfast bar to wait for whatever it is she's about to pull out of it.

"Did I have a choice?" My tone is sarcastic.

"Of course you did. You are a freshman in college now, essentially making you an adult. And you have a free will so you always have choices." She grabs everything up in her hands and arms closing the refrigerator door with her hip. When she makes it to the counter, she drops them down and lines up the fixings for a sandwich. Then she steps away to get me a plate, silverware, and a glass.

In theory, she may be right but I'm smart enough not to test it. The truth is I would never do anything that would intentionally disappoint her or Carrick for that matter. So that's why I'm here, when I would rather be in bed with the most magnificent sex partner known to man. Even after everything we did last night and this morning, my body is still calling for more. Exhausted, sore all over including my dick, I still I want more… I always want more of her. No matter how hard I try, I can't get my fill of the woman. She definitely has me whipped figuratively and literally

With her it's more than lust, she feeds that darkness inside of me which allows me to have a somewhat normal existence with my perfect family. So I will forever be indebted to her, but the relationship we have is all there will ever be between us. She has made it abundantly clear that love is for fools and abhors any discussions about the emotion. I had to learn this the hard way, when I fool heartedly declared my love for her; however, it was short-lived. Because I was and still is incapable of love. You need a heart for that emotion and mine died in the filthy, dingy, and drug infested apartment long before my birth mother died in that hospital bed.

Regretfully, my new family got the shell; a hollow dark black hole. It saddens me, but I am who I am and unfortunately I don't think I will ever fit in with the Greys. You can't live through the horrors I did and expect to be normal. That is why I keep myself closed off, not wanting to poison them with my darkness any more than I have too. I save that part of me for her, she's my outlet.

"Mom," I say and her face lights up. It always does when I call her that. "You know I would do anything for you and I wouldn't want to miss your gala. Besides who would keep Elliot in line? Speaking of Elliott why isn't he helping you? I'm going to kill him for letting you move that massive arrangement by yourself," I say putting the finishing touch on my sandwich.

She waves me of with her hand. "Nonsense Christian. Contrary to what the men in my life may believe, I'm not some frail old woman. It wasn't that heavy. Besides if I waited for help I would be here all day. Sometimes it's faster for me to just do it myself. The volunteers and paid employees have more important things to handle." At that, I make a mental note to kick Elliott's ass just for G.P.

"When you're finish eating, put your dishes in the sink and Betty will take care them later. I would also recommend that you take a nap too. You have a long night ahead of you and you look pretty exhausted. How was the flight?"

"Gee thanks, mom. I look that bad?" It's a rhetorical question so I don't wait for the answer before continuing. "Oh yeah, the little project I'm working on for you. Do you have any more information for me on her?" I ask anxious to change the subject before I slip up.

"Not really. No more than what I've already shared. She was recently removed from her home. Not sure of the circumstance but I suspect it was not good considering that the removal occurred in the middle of the night. Which is why the poor thing is so traumatized and isn't talking. That's why I considered you. I mean you more than anyone dear boy can probably identify with what she's going through. So thank you so much for agreeing to help me with her. I know this is beyond your comfort level..." I interrupt her before she finishes

"Sure mom anything for you after everything you guys have done for me. I get a chance to pay it forward." She gives me a reassuring smile.

"Well make sure you get some rest, I want you fresh for the Gala. I'm going to go check on some other things."

When I'm about to dig into my sandwich, she pokes her head back in. "Like I said I love having you home my darling boy."

"Thanks, mom it's good to be home. Where's everyone? Aside from the staffers it pretty quiet."

"Elliott is out doing Lord knows what, to Lord knows who, Lord knows where! And Mia is somewhere with your father manipulating him to buy her Lord knows what, for Lord knows how much!" Her tone is dripping with sarcasm. Shaking her head, she starts to pull away from door frame she's leaning against.

"That's a whole lot of Lord knows. So in a nutshell you have no idea where your family is or what they are doing," I chuckle.

She pauses for a moment resting her index finger on her lips. "Yep, that pretty much sums it up," she says deadpan and we both let out a hardy laugh and it feels good to share a relaxing moment with my mom.

Then I watch as she disappears out of my sight to go help with prepping for the gala. I have no idea why she hires so many people because she ends up doing a great amount of the work herself. I'm about to take the last bite of my sandwich, when my mom pokes her head back in.

"Sweetheart I just wanted to thank you again for agreeing to help me with my challenge."

"No problem mom. Anything for you." I see her out the corner of my eyes, and she gives me one of her heartwarming smiles before disappearing yet again. And it's true it isn't a problem, it wouldn't be my first choice for how to spend an evening. But I'm glad to have an opportunity to do something worthwhile for my mom for all she's done for me.

Inwardly I curse myself for being void of the fundamental human emotions necessary for such an undertaking. Even with all my baggage I jumped at the opportunity. Ironically it's because of my baggage that Grace gave me the honor. And I do consider it an honor because I see it as a privilege that she would entrust me with something so important to her, as the well-being of a defenseless child. I'm fucked up beyond measure, no one knows this better than Grace Trevelyan Grey; sure she doesn't know the full depth of my depravity, but she knows enough of my darkness. That's why I'm taking this task so seriously.

So for her I will play the role of White Knight or Knight in Shining Armor when it is far from who I am. A Dark Knight maybe, but I will take on these worthy personas to reach the little girl and prove my worthiness to Grace in order not disappoint her.

The gravity of the undertaking starts to weigh heavy on me, so I pull my tired ass up from the stool and walk listlessly back to the foyer to pick up my bags. When I finally make it to my room, I'm more than ready to rest my tired body and weary soul. Every time I walk into this bedroom, I'm transported to that troubled time in my life.

Strangely it remains a sanctuary for me though. It hasn't changed that much, I just keep adding more and more mementos to the corkboard above the small desk in the corner. I walk further into the room closing the door behind me prepared to crash on the bed but something draws me to that cluttered board.

The magnetic pull is so strong, I gravitate towards it when all I want to do is crash on my comfy bed. But I find myself in front of the desk looking up at the crowded corkboard. My backpack slides down my shoulder on its own volition to the floor landing on my feet and I toss the other bag to the floor next to it. For the first time since moving in with the Greys, my eyes get stuck on the worn photograph of the crackwhore. It's in the same place on the board Grace stuck it all those years ago. It was the only thing she took from the apartment when they had it cleared. I've never gaped at and until now I've never had the desire too.

Sure my gaze would fall on it from time to time, but it never lingered on the image of the young woman it captured. Staring at it now, I see that she looks to be no more than 16. Right before she became pregnant with me, because I can see her youthful innocence. Her brown hair is full, shining and flowing gloriously over her shoulders off her face revealing her beauty. Her skin is flawless, confirming her assertions that she was not on drugs before my birth. Disappointment at how this young woman could allow herself to fall into a life of drugs and prostitution fills me. If only Coping Together existed for her, our lives could've been so different.

The bleak thought causes the ache in my chest to grow, and I want to walk away from her like she walked away from me. But there's something about the photo that continues calling out to me...her eyes. They are playful, intense and haunting at the same time, and they feel familiar. I remove the push pin holding the photograph in place; in order, to hold it in my hands. The paper feels heavy in my palm, symbolic of the baggage I've been carrying around with me for as long as I can remember. In the photograph, the young woman looks nothing like the woman I've demonized. She doesn't look like a demon at all; she looks human. I have to admit she's quite beautiful, her features are striking. I let my fingers glide over the surface of the photo tracing the contours her face landing on her eyes.

My body shivers as I come face to face with gray eyes mirroring mine. That's it. She has my eyes or should I say I have hers. I don't know how I missed it all these years, but I have my mother's eyes. Maybe because I never truly saw her or wanted to see her. I didn't want to see into her soul, I didn't want to know what it would reveal because it would've have forced me to see her beyond her circumstances.

The realization is jarring, almost knocking me off my feet. My breath catches in my throat. Inexplicably I feel like I belong to someone, feeling a real connection to my mother. For the first time, I discover that I got more from her than a tortured soul. Though she represents the worst part of my life and the worst of me, this revelation feels soothing. Unfortunately, it's not enough to bring me the peace I need to heal the unending ache that has consume me all my young life. However, it is a piece of the puzzle, but I'm too tired physically and mentally to decipher the meaning of it all. So I take the pin, stick the fragile picture of the broken young woman back into the empty spot on the board. I wasn't able to save this young girl so maybe I can save this one and I pull out the piece of paper Grace gave with a name scribbled on it…Anastasia Rose Steel.

I fold the paper back up and leave it on the desk as I finally make my way to the bed. I wrestle with finding a perfect spot and when I do I'm thankful. My ass is a little tender, but for the most part she spared it. But the same can't be said about my cock; she's never rode me so hard. I'm not complaining, this kind of discomfort, I will take any day. Just when I fall asleep, a squeal awakes me and I open my eyes to see heading for me is Mia.

"Christian. Mommy told me you were home." Her squeal is so high pitched I want to bury my head in my pillow to block the sound but instead I prepare to catch her as she flings herself at me. She's the only one I will let anywhere near my chest, but even she can't touch me there.

"Hi squirt," I grunt feigning hurt when I catch her. Needing the intimate human contact after my impromptu therapy session, I so want to pull her closer but I can't. Instead, I release her and move over allowing her the room to get next to me on the bed.

"So where did you and Carrick go?" She looks up at me and her little pink lips jut out as she rolls her eyes.

"Miiiaaa," I warn. "You how mom and dad feel about eye rolling."

"Sorry Christian but don't get me started." And she gets very animated as she gives me the rundown on what happened between her and Carrick. From her retelling, I gather that Mia wanted a phone and Carrick said no. A word Mia Grey does not hear and definitely does not like. But I have to agree with Carrick on this one. However, by the time Mia is finished with me I'm on her side and has agreed to talk to Carrick. I'm no match for her tears and sad face. My little sister is a beauty, the cutest thing I've ever seen but of course I'm biased. Her hair is dark almost jet black, her face perfectly round like the moon, dancing big eyes the color of chocolate, pouty lips, with a turned-up nose to match. And she brings me to my knees whenever I see her unhappy, so I pity her future suitors. Mia Grey has manipulation down pat and she's barely 12.

I put in my last cuff link and take one more look at myself in the mirror before going downstairs. I cleaned up pretty good considering that a few hours earlier I looked like road kill. To tame my too wild and now too long hair, I had to use some product for the first time in ages.

"Hey, little bro," Elliott calls to me as he comes down the stairs behind me, so I stop to wait for him. A decision I will forever regret. He may be older than me, but I'm the one with the maturity and considering my issues that's saying something.

"Not too bad. Sweet," he teases as he eyes me up and down

"You too." I return the platitude.

"Well, what can I say? I make a tux look good," he says pulling on his lapels. I shake my head and continue down the steps

"Hey Christian" he calls this time in a whisper but I don't wait. Unfortunately he catches up with me at the middle landing.

"Hey, man I know your little hotdog has never seen the inside of a bun so I want to help a brother out. I've been hanging out with this black chick name, Miranda. Let me tell you that the jungle fever shit is no lie. This girl has it going on and luckily for you, she has a little sister at Harvard. I saw her picture, and she is fine too. Miranda has agreed to set you two up. If she's anything like her sister. Dude you are in for a good time. So do you want to take a walk on the wild side?" He leans in whispering as he nudges me with an elbow.

"First where I put my hot dog." And I make those silly air quotes with my hands. "Is none of your fucking concern. And secondly if I were you I would stop using stereotypical jargon. Words like jungle fever may be fine for a Spike Lee Joint, but out of the mouth of a privileged white boy like you, it's downright racist. So I would pipe down the rhetoric if I were you before you find yourself on the wild side of someone's fist. If you know what I mean." I pat him on the shoulder before I walk away to find my mother and I hear him yelling chill man behind me.

Elliot is a good a guy and far from a racist, but I said it to make a point. He's lead a very privilege life and hasn't been exposed to diverse cultures like me. So I wanted to give him some free advice based on my experience

When I find mom, she's doing what else; playing with a flower arrangement in her evening dress no less. When I call to her, she stops what she's doing to follow the sound of my voice. When we come, face to face she puts her hand over her mouth capturing her gasp

"Oh my God. Christian you look so handsome. I'm so glad you agreed to allow Dad and me to buy you a tuxedo this year. Whoever is lucky enough to win your heart will be one lucky person," she says as she clasps my face between her hands. Her use of the gender-neutral pronoun is not lost on me. I've never brought a love interest home so my family isn't quite sure of my sexual orientation. But I don't take her bait, I let it hang out there.

"Thanks and I'll tell Carrick when I see him. He made an excellent choice." Speaking of my father, he's the only person I've not seen yet.

"Yes he did. You give James Bond a run for his money," she gushes.

"Really. Not Austin Powers?" I tease her and she rolls her eyes at me and shake her head. "By the way mom, you can stop with the compliments I've already agreed to help. .

"Yes and thank you for that too. Before I got distracted by this arrangement I was watching her interact with the other kids. They were all hanging out on the lawn with the advisors I brought in for the night. So you'll probably be able to find her by the docks when you're ready. She really seems to like the water."

"Thanks. It's getting kind of late for her to be there alone, so I'm heading there now."

Since Carrick is the only family member I have not seen, I decide to go in search of him before looking for our little project, the name we're now calling her. My relationship with Carrick was repaired when he came clean with me. After about a year of putting up with my bullshit, he finally called me out on it and got to the crux of the problem. This allowed us to work through our stuff.

As it turns out, he wasn't my biological father. It was another one of the crackwhore's many lies. Her negative impact on my life knew no boundaries, she was reaching out to me from the grave. He explained that while his relationship with my birth mother was inappropriate, it never became sexual which is why he was confused when she named him as the father of her unborn child. He surmised it was because he was nice to her, and she saw him as an easy target.

Delusional, she followed him to Detroit. But he called her on her bluff, requesting a blood test and threatening custody if he turned out to be the father. He knew it was not a possibility, but he was serious about custody because he was worried of how she would care for a child. However she disappeared, only to show up a few years later.

Out of misplaced guilt and pity for my well-being he gave her the job at their home. He said things were working out fine until Grace started inquiring about me and one day my mom just stop coming. He thinks she picked up on Grace's desire to adopt me. Soon after, the family moved to Seattle and never heard from us again until out of the blue he got a letter from my mother explaining the situation. So he and Grace didn't have to think twice because they saw it as a second chance at adopting me. The adoption component was key for me; I wasn't forced on them after all, they wanted me and that changed the trajectory of our relationship.

Heading towards my dad's office, I feel female hands on me jerking into my parents' library. Without seeing the person I know who the hands belong too, I would know that touch anywhere. With me up against the door, she reaches around locking us in.

"I saw you talking to Grace and you look so damn fuckable in this tux," she purrs in my ear as she outlines the edges of my lapels with her fingers. "So I had to find a way to get you alone." She sticks her tongue in my ear before letting her feet come back down on the oak floors. My dick immediately hardens from the small gesture. She so owns me.

"Hmmm. I like the way you respond to me," she moans as she cups me through my trousers. The devilish tone in her voice tells me she's out to play. I know there's a sinister grin plastered on her face, even if I can't see it. My eyes are downcast, as I get into character. Typically we don't assume our roles in public and definitely not in my parents' home but everything about her is screaming domination.

Eyes locked on her feet, I see exceedingly high heels lift from the wooden floor as she rises to her tippy toes to reach my head. "You're mine." Her cool, sweet breath is warm against my skin as she whispers in my ear, and still time she licks the shell then nip the lobe.

My breath hitches and it's taking every ounce of control I've learned from her, not to pick her up throw her across the desk in the room, and fuck her within an inch of her life.

"That's it, my pet. I like the way your body aches for me. Only me. You have grown nicely into your body and it's all mine. I will see you later tonight and we will pick this up later." She moves her well-manicured finger to my mouth and runs them over my bottom lip.

"You can look at me Christian. I want to see your eyes," she whispers and uses the same fingers to nudge my chin bringing my head up. When our eyes lock, I see that hers are wanton, dark and cold like sharp shards of glass. In mine, I'm sure she sees eyes like a deer caught in headlights because her demand is unsettling. She has never allowed me to look her in the eyes, it was considered too intimate not to mention disrespectful.

"Beautiful," she breathes and I avert my gaze down again uncomfortable with where this is going and I'm surprised when she doesn't react negatively to my reluctance at following her instructions.

Eyes on the floor I send up a silent prayer that this will be over soon. We're in my parent's library for God sake with swarms of people around and anyone could the try the door…My dad. Mentally I body sags at the thought and fear threatens to turn to panic. I can't believe she doesn't feel it too. To help settle my nerves, I focus on what's she's wearing. A black shimmery gown that is hugging her every curve perfectly. From my vantage point, I can also see my growing erection as it stretches the fabric of my pants. I need relief so badly, but I don't dear make a move to adjust the massive mound, without permission for fear of punishment.

Exasperated, without thinking instinctively I squeeze my eyes close and simanteously cock my head back against the door as my body begs for relieve before it explodes. I don't have to beg very long and any rising fear of being caught quickly dissipates when Elena goes into Dom overdrive and without warning and in her formal attire, she gracefully lowers herself to her knees before me. Transfixed on her, I watch as she deftly unzips my trousers as she reaches a hand inside freeing my cock.

"My job is not only to punish but take care of you." A nod to the fact that she picked up on my need and this time I see the sardonic grin playing on her face. Before I can put up any objection, not that I was planning too because trust me I wanted, no I needed this. Her siren red lips are wrapped around my cock so quickly it elicits an audible moan from me. As good as it feels having her lips wrapped around my hard erection, it seems so wrong being with her like this in my parents' home. However, now the thought only serves to make the situation hotter.

I have to restrain myself from fisting my hands in her well-coiffed hair; in order, to avoid ruin her well-crafted look. But it's killing me that I can't cup the back of her head so I can push her deeper as she fucks me with her mouth. In tuned to me and without preamble like a suction, she sucks me in deeper until I'm hitting the back of her throat. Making it clear who's in control eliminating any notion of me topping from the bottom.

She has my cock sheath to the hilt, causing me to lose all coherent thought, thinking with only my small head. I'm so deep in her mouth her lips are covering the hand holding my cock at the base; I marvel at how deep I am, then she does the unbelievable, taking me in deeper. I don't know how she manages it without gagging; hell I don't how I managed it without shooting my load on the spot. But somehow we both keep it together. However, not for long because in no time my orgasm hits me like a freight train, wracking my body as it courses through me. I grip the door knob so tight l can feel the blood draining from knuckles as I try to stay upright and refrain from screaming her name to the top of my lungs.

My cum is filling her mouth at warp speed, but Elena keeps up, swallowing it equally as fast. Masterfully, she sucks my tip milking every drop out of me before she stands to her feet. Upright, she takes the back of her hand slowly drags it across her lips. When she's done her tongue darts outs to lick a drop of cum left behind at the corner of her mouth.

"Damn."

Mesmerized I watch the master at work, as I follow every movement of her tongue darting in and out of her siren red lips. Leaning in she reaches her hand up causing me to flinch because I think she's going to touch me. A sinister smile crosses her face as she takes in my expression.

"Suck," she whispers before she rams her tongue in my mouth and I follow her command sucking on it with the same fervor she sucked my dick.

The taste of my orgasm is still lingering on her lips and tongue. When she's had enough, she pulls her mouth away leaving me breathless. Then she reaches down to place my flaccid member back in my pants before slowly zipping me up and she does it all without breaking our gaze.

She must have deployed that deep throat shit because she had to be quick since she's never taken me that deep in her mouth. Whatever the reason, I bow down to her mastery. This cements it…She has ruined me for any other woman. Lord have mercy on me.

"Keep this on. I want to be the one to take you out of this tux," she says huskily and I unlock the door since my hand is practically glued to it. With her eyes, she commands me to step aside giving her space to exit. I do and she glides past me like a sleek, elegant gazelle as if it was another day at the office.

When she's gone, I breathe in and out rapidly trying to regain my composure after…whatever that was. This can't be normal; two people can't be able to have this much sex in a 24 hour span of time and still crave more. One of us is going have to say uncle before we kill each other. What a way to go, I chuckle as I push off the door to make my way to the small bathroom at the back of the room.

As I'm about to leave the small bathroom or powder room as my mother calls it, I hear Carrick's voice. I walk out and we meet each other in the middle of the room

"Your mother told me you were looking for me. Funny I was looking for you too. I can't believe you've been home all day and this is the first I've seen you. One would think we lived in a castle," he says teasingly, cracking a rare joke.

"Yeah, I feel the same way," I say nervously

"I wanted to tell you, I'm very proud of you. Your mother told me what you're doing. I'm so glad you're going to help that little girl, she means a lot to your mother," he says and he pull his hand back when he realizes he's about to tap me on the shoulder

"Don't thank me yet. Thank me when.…" I stop mid-sentence as I nervously watch my father wrinkle his nose and sniff.

"Sorry son. Do you smell that?" He asks and I pretend to sniff.

"No, dad. I don't," I say calmly

"What? You don't smell that perfume. I know that scent. Oh well no big deal, I guess someone came in here. However, I would keep that bit of information from your mother." He gives me a slight nod. "She works hard to keep people from wandering around the house." I let out a sigh of relief when he's finish talking. I could've sworn he was going to say something about the scent of sex and then I was horrified he was going to identify Elena's perfume

The crowd is relatively small because it is still early, but the music is very lively. I'm grateful there's still some light out when I reach the dock, I can see my target with her legs dangling over the edge but out of the reach of the water. Her shiny black shoes are on the side with the frilly white socks similar to the ones I've seen on Mia. Her head is downcast as she stares longingly at the water below. The mop of curls on her head is blocking her face from my view so I can't see it.

But I can see how fragile and tiny she is. It boggles my mind that someone would hurt her. Ironic that I'm questioning the depravity of human beings when I'm living proof of the pain and suffering an adult can afflict on a defenseless child. The thought is sobering and immediately I feel an unequivocal need to comfort and protect the small child. So I quickly remove my shoes and socks and quietly set them next to hers and clear my throat to make my presence known, in order not to scare her. She doesn't flinch and I lower my larger frame next to her on the dock.

Unable to get a rise out of her, I'm forced to tilt my head down in order to get a look at her face, but no luck. The curls are too thick and she doesn't help me by holding her head up. Damn my mom and her minions for primping this kid within an inch of her life, I think as I stare at the chocolate mass.

"Hi Anastasia. My name is Christian. I'm Dr. Grace's son." I decide to start talking and give up on looking at her in the face. My simple introduction doesn't garner any type of response from her either. I mean I didn't' expect her to speak right away, but a flinch would have gone a long way to help my cause.

I knew it would be a challenge, but I'm really feeling out of my depth here. But I don't want to let my mother down so in my mind I play back my myriad of therapy sessions hoping to come up with something tangible I can use.

"Do you mind if I call you Ana? Anastasia is a beautiful name, but it's a kinda long for such a little girl huh?" My voice soft to not scare her. She shakes her head handing me a small victory so mentally I fist pump thankful for the wee progress.

"What do you see in the water?" Inane I know, but it's all I got so I'm surprise when she doesn't respond.

"Your dress is pretty." Nothing

"What's your favorite color?" Crickets

I can't blame the kid. With fucked up questions like that, I wouldn't answer even if I could talk. Okay, Morrison it's time to man up; go big or go home, I mentally pump myself up. At a loss for something profound or witty, I decide to go with the elephant in the room.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" My voice is soft but stern because I'm eager to find out the nature of her abuse. Mom only had the bare bones.

Her small body starts trembling, and I don't have to be a genius to know she's crying. It starts out as a sniffle which quickly morphs into outright sobs. Hating to see her cry, a surge of adrenaline strikes and without thinking, I reach over pulling her onto my lap.

"What happened to you Anastasia?" I murmur, but it's a question more for my benefit than hers.

"What happened to you sweetie?" I continue to ask and it's no more than a whisper this time. But one word is too syrupy sweet for my taste.

I've said a lot of words in my life; asshole, bitch and my all -time favorite fuck, but none as sticky sweet as 'Sweetie'. Oh well, desperate times calls for desperate measures is a motto I've quickly adopted.

I feel assured that I have the situation under control, I relax a bit. That is until Ana lays her tiny tear stained face on my chest and burrows in. Mortified, my body stiffens as I wait for the familiar burning and searing pain to set in, but they never come. So I release the breath I'm holding and let my body relax so I can put my focus back on the little girl in my arms.

It's a sobering thought, but I've been in her shoes and I have a very good idea of how she must be feeling and what her immediate needs are. Things my mother never gave to me and from the looks of it neither did hers. Helpless I stare down at the top of her head reciting the list from memory in my mind. Foremost she needs to feel safe. She needs to know she's loved. She needs to know she's worthy. She needs to know her future is bright even it seems bleak. Coincidentally they fit in Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs a theory I've become very familiar with.

The question now becomes am I the one to supply these needs, and the answer is a resounding no. I'm incapable of caring for myself so I'm in no position to care for this wounded soul; fuck I can't get her to mouth a single word. Since any long term assistance is outside of my wheelhouse, I put my attention on what I can do. So I hold on to her a little tighter letting her nestle on my chest. I have to admit, she feels good in my arms…on my chest. Perhaps this evening will be beneficial for both of us. She's doing more to heal me than I am to heal her

My consoling does nothing to curtail her crocodile tears and heart-wrenching sobs. It's as if she's trying to wash away her pain, I know the feeling and I feel even more helpless. But not deterred, I go to my bag of tricks pulling out my go to weapon...music. Of course, there's no piano insight so I'll have to rely on my vocals. Not my preference, but again desperate times calls for desperate measures.

Cradling her, I start singing "Angel," by Sara McLachlan. It's one of the only modern piece of music I like to play. Usually I prefer the likes of Bach when my soul needs soothing. But there's something about this song that spoke to me the first time I heard it. As Ana's relaxes in my arms, I realize the song is having the desired effect on her. I hold my head down and rest my cheek on top of her head as I bring the song to its natural conclusion. Finally, her tears cease entirely and I carefully rise to my feet protecting the precious bundle in my arms.

Once I've navigated standing without dropping her in the water, I take quick, deliberate steps towards the house once I confirm that Ana is safe in my arms. I don't know what this little girl has, but I want to bottle it up and give it to my family for Christmas so they can finally be able to touch me.

Grace comes to a stand-still when she sees me walking in with Ana nestled in my arms, heads resting against my chest. She says nothing choosing to stay silent bearing witness to the miracle playing out in front of her. With Ana resting quietly and safely in the crook of my arms, I walk to the family room as far away as possible from the loud noise of the Gala. The loud music and lively chatter outside is a reminder that the celebration is now in full swing, despite the suffering of this little girl I'm holding. An irony not lost on me; a cause and an event designed to help people in Ana's situation seems out of step at the moment.

I set Anastasia in one of the chairs in the room and take my seat next to her. For the first time, I'm able to get a clear glimpse of her small face and she truly is a cutie; breathtaking actually. She has porcelain skin that resembles one of Mia's expensive collector's dolls. The darkness of her hair contrasts with her milky skin making her look like a fairy princesses or some other ethereal creature. Eyes so blue and full of intensity they tell the story of someone beyond her years. Eyes may be the window into the soul but eerily it's my soul her eyes are looking into.

Staring at them, it literally feels like I am revealing my soul to her and we haven't spoken a word. The connection is so intense I have to break our gaze to break the pull she's having on me. It is surreal that she's having this kind of impact on me. Unfortunately she's too young to recognize the significance of it all

My fight or flight response is starting to kick in, the danger is in front of me and I want to run. However, I don't know if I'm running from her or me. All I know is, I feel out of control because this is so beyond my capabilities. So I will have to trust in my parents that they will do the right thing and save Anastasia like they did the rest of us. They both offered clues that adoption was a definite an option. Grace had to have an ulterior motive when she asked me for my assistance, considering my emotional limitations.

Sensing my control slipping further, I rise from the chair to make a quick exit before I completely unravel. I turn to make eye contact with my mother who is still standing in the doorway, in order to make my intentions known so she can step in.

In my peripheral view, I spot a vase with one single perfect rose among the oodles of other flowers. I take it as a sign and reach over unintentionally snapping the blossom from the stem and I go one knee before the little girl as I formulate my parting words. Delightedly, something profound emerges. I look deep into her baby blue orbs as I repeat the words that I hope will sustain her in these her uncertain times. Her past is too similar to mine, so I want her future to be different so she won't grow into the monster she sees before her.

"Anastasia your name says it all; it speaks to your inner strength and resolve to not only survive but thrive. Anastasia is the name of a Russian Princess essentially making you royalty and in Greek it means resurrection or rebirth; either way it speaks to your resilience. Rose, conjures up the words from one of my favorite songs, 'A seed lies far beneath the winter snow that with the sun's love in the spring becomes the Rose. That's you a seed and with love and support you will grow and flourish into a beautiful, smart, strong, young woman one day. Steele, it may bend but will it will never break. No one will ever break your spirit because you are strong. It is my hope that these words will fortify you, making you even stronger in the time ahead." Ana stares into my eyes riveted by words. I'm in awe of her that at such a young age she seems to understand what I am saying. Her cheeks are glistening so I take the pad of my thumb wiping the tears away from her face and I stick the rose in a mess of curls behind her ear.

Quickly I stand before the tear that's pricking at my eye falls. She's tugging at something deep in me, I know it's not a heart, because I don't have one. If she does not become a part of this family, I don't know what I will do and if she does I might as well turn in my man card. Because with her and Mia as little sisters I won't stand a chance.

Again I make eye contact with my mother and this time I mouth I'm sorry to her. I'm sorry that I failed miserably at the one task she entrusted to me; to get Anastasia to speak. Always the saint she gives me her warmest motherly smile and blows me a heartfelt kiss. I pretend to catch it and with my hand I make a fist before I open it to rest the palm flatly against my tuxedo jacket covering my heart. There's an audible gasp from her and I don't dear keep her gaze for too long or I will lose it for sure.

"You raise the ordinary to the extraordinary," I whisper so only Anastasia can hear.

I speak the truth because someday this little girl is going break hearts and I hope I have a front row seat. Giving my mother a final nod and like the emotional recluse and coward I am, I choose flight instead of fight as I walk as fast as I can to the front door.

I think I may actually getting away with my steely persona intact, until I hear a voice I will never forget call out my name. It stops me in my tracks and I wait for it again just to make sure it's not my imagination. Then I hear footsteps coming up behind me and she wraps her arms around my legs before my mother can stop her. If I turn around now, I know I will lose the ounce of control I'm hanging on to by a thread.

I want to move, but I can't, her little arms are holding on to me for dear life and in a voice barely above a whisper she simply says, "Christian thank you." I reach down to remove her hands from my legs one by one freeing me up to turn and face her. I squat to her level and look her square in the eyes, and the most enchanting eyes I've ever seen are staring back at me. And one thing I know for sure, are there are two things I will never forget; her voice and her eyes. Soon my mom is taking the little girl away and I wipe at my eyes.

Terrified by these unnamed and rare emotions, I scramble out of the house and I don't seek my mother out this time. Relieved to be outside I breathe in the night air and now I relish the sounds coming from the Gala. They help drown out my thoughts. I rest my hands on my knees as I struggle to catch my breath. Desperately I want to bring some perspective and order back to my life.

I'm Christian fucking Morrison for God sake, nothing pricks my heart because it doesn't exist. I'm a dark motherfucker that likes to fuck hard and get whipped in order to feel something even if it's physical pain. I don't do empathy and caring, those emotions are for fools. Elena reminds me of that every day.

I repeat this mantra as I make my way to the docks for my shoes. The ring of my Blackberry brings me to the here and now and the name on the caller ID is reminder of who I truly am...Christian Morrison Submissive.

A/N : After being reading stories on fanfiction for about a year, I'm taking a stab at it. This idea has been playing in my mind for awhile so I'm trying to do it justice. Hopefully my writing will improve as I go along but if you like what you're reading so far please leave give me a review…Thanks enjoy


	3. Chapter 3: Harvard or Bust

Chapter 3: Harvard or Bust

**A/N:**Thank you all for your reviews, favorites, likes and any of viewing of my story.

**Disclaimer: Fifty Shades of Grey belongs to EL James**

The BlackBerry feels like its burning my hand, as I read her message for the umpteenth time. Elena emailed me when I didn't pick up her call. In exasperation I toss the BlackBerry to the empty passenger seat as if it's the problem, because I can't look at her message anymore. I run my hands through my too long hair, as I contemplate my next move.

A plan in place, a couple of hours later I end up in front of Elena's home after driving down one tree-lined street after another in the neighborhood. Over the years, I've become very familiar with this house, and usually just pulling in the driveway would make my cock twitch, but that's not happening tonight. The Lincoln's home isn't far from my parents, but the difference in the two properties are worlds apart. The house is a poor man's version of my parents' home, but it's hardly a knock since the neighborhood is very affluent. And I don't know if it's because of my mood but its feels eerier and more ancient too.

In silence, I sit in the rental, observing the large picture window covered by a sheer panel, waiting for her silhouette to appear. When she's expecting me, she takes up position in front of the window, as soon as, she hears my car out front. And on cue, I see the outlines of her body, and even in shadow it's striking. My gaze stays transfixed as the figure strikes various poses, each one more suggestive than the next and I know it's for my benefit. She knows I've been sitting outside and will be livid that I've kept her waiting, but this matters not to me, she can wait. I'm not intimidated by her or what she can do to me. Punishment be damned, I'm too hyped over my decision to care and I get the burst of adrenaline I need to spring into action.

Leaping from the car, I straightened the jacket on my well- fitted tux before taking confident, deliberate strides down the cobbled path to the front door. Nearing, the door cracks and I get my first in-person glimpse of Elena; she's in full Dominatrix get up – black leather corset, matching thong and garter with black fishnet stockings, and sky high stiletto black boots that fits her thighs perfectly completes the look. Momentarily it causes me to take pause; I would be dishonest, if I said she didn't look fuckable as hell, but the soldier still isn't saluting. Thank God for small favors.

To keep my mind on the mission at hand, I avoid staring at the seductress at the door and focus on the surroundings. Closing the distance between us, I can almost see the plume of smoke emanating from her body she's so furious. I can also see a gleam in her eyes, which I know well. It speaks to the high, she's getting thinking that she'll be well in her contractual right as my Dom to punish me within an inch of my life. For what she perceives as my many infractions…My extreme tardiness at the top of the list I'm sure.

However, I'm able to find the comedy in it, knowing that I will have the last laugh. I speak before she can even open her mouth, which confounds her, knocking her off her game a tad. So I take advantage and go straight for the jocular making my statement simple, concise and to the point.

"Elena I can't do this anymore. I'm done."

My voice is strong and controlled, and does not break. I stared straight into her eyes to deliver the message, making it clear my submission to her was indeed over. Then in military precision I turn on my heels to make my way back to the car. Staring at her squarely in the eyes, I was finally able to see the pure evil that lurked within her, how I missed it before now is beyond my comprehension.

Immediately she starts hurling expletives at me that would make Satan blush; nevertheless, I don't let it phase me or break my stride. I leave with the same confidence in which I arrived. After what I've experienced tonight there's nothing she can say or do to make me regret my decision.

Sliding behind the wheel of the car, I peel off with no particular place in mind to go. But somehow my car heads in the direction of the one place I needed to be and to the one person I needed most. The engine barely purrs to a stop, before I'm climbing out of the car and bursting through the door my parent's home. My mom is in her gown doing some menial task, when she spots me. The expression on my face must be terrifying because the expression on her is utter panic.

"Christian are you okay?" I'm too speechless to answer.

"Okay, come sit I'll get you some water." Her voice is calm and soothing as she leads me to the sofa. But I grab her by the wrist when she steps to get the water.

"I don't need water. Can you sit with me?" My voice is a whisper.

"Of course darling boy. I can." And as if she tipping toeing around a bomb she quietly steps back and takes a seat on the sofa next to me.

She barely makes it before instinctively my body gravitates to the side, causing my head to land in her lap. I can hear an audible exhilaration and sense that her hands are in the air as she contemplates what to do next. But her motherly instincts soon kick in and she does what comes naturally; gently she starts stroking my hair. Her touch feels better than I ever imagined and I bury my head in her lap giving into all the emotions of the evening. The tears are swift and this time I'm powerless to stop them, and the more she strokes the harder they fall.

"Go ahead let it out," she coos as she gently runs her hand over my hair and in her voice I can hear her tears.

"My sweet baby boy, I'm so sorry I put you in that predicament. It was very inconsiderate of me considering your history. You're my child damn it." She tries to choke back her tears. "You should've been my priority," she whimpers and I wiggle from under her grasp.

"Nonsense Mom," I say when I'm sitting up upright and I bring my arm to my face to wipe it with the sleeve of my expensive tuxedo jacket. "It was what that little girl needed. But you know it was what I needed too. I can't explain it, but…"

"Ssh" she shushes interrupting me, as she, takes my face in her hands wiping the remaining moisture from my cheeks with the pad of her thumbs.

"Christian, you don't have to explain. This right here." She kisses me on my eyelids. "Being able to hold you and comfort you speaks volume." Sniffling she pulls me in for a proper hug where we both lose it.

She buries her head in the crook of my neck and I close my eyes taking in the feel of her as I get lost in the moment. Needing to be even closer at the same time we pull each other tighter until there's no space between our bodies.

"Mom I'm so sorry you have to see me like this," I say as I push out of her embrace and wipe my nose and face with my sleeve again.

"Now it's my turn to say nonsense. Do you know how long I've waited to be able to hold you like this?" A nervous snort he escapes her "Forever," she says emphatically answering her own question before pulling me in for a quick hug.

"I was privileged to be a witness to the poignant interaction between you and Anastasia. I could since a breakthrough happening, but I never dreamed it would be so swift. I'm forever grateful to that little girl. Speaking of grate. As grateful as I am that I've been able to hold you, I sense there's more to the story. I can't put my finger on it, but there's more to your pain. Do you want to talk about it?" Pensive, I sit in silence before closing my eyes.

"I get it. You don't want too. I won't push." Sighing she brushes lose strands of hair away from my face. "You're beautiful you know. But you're more than that, you're special. You're beautiful inside and out. I fell in love with you the moment your mother brought you through our doors and I knew I wanted you in my life for always. But I thought I missed the chance at being your mother. So every night I get down on my knees thanking God and Ella for giving me another chance," she whispers and we hug again.

I feel her breath on my skin and I realize she's blowing at something. "You need a haircut."

"I'm here so what do you want Elena? What are you playing at?" My voice is stern. I'm beyond upset that she came to my parents' house this morning convincing them she needed my help. If I didn't feel guilty because she was using them as unknowing pawns in her little game of cat of the mouse I wouldn't be here. When I left last night I had no intentions of ever setting my sights on the woman ever again.

"You," she purrs stalking closer to me

"I thought I made myself perfectly clear last night that we were over," I snarl halting her progress. "So if that's your end game with this little ruse, I can leave now," I bark before pivoting towards the door.

"Christian," she yells and keeping my back to her I make the mistake of hesitating. "We're not over until I say we're over. You. Are. Mine," she screams after me in her Dom voice.

Prepared to release a shit storm of insults on her, irate I spin around, but the words get caught in my throat when I see her. Swallowing hard I take in the brazen woman standing in front of me.

Except for sky high stilettos, Elena is nude. Her wrap dress is at her feet, legs are spread wide with a hand between so she can penetrate herself with her fingers. Too bad the satisfied smirk she's wearing on her face isn't clothing or she'd be nattily attired, instead of standing before me prepared for something diabolical. I should run like hell, but I'm thinking with my small head and I come up with a plan of my own. So I stuff my keys in my pocket and I become the predator as I stalk her.

"You want me?" My voice is menacing and my gaze equally intimidating. The flinch is barely detectable, but I see it, she's unsettled that I'm not submitting. "You'll have me."

One fell scoop, I snatch the hand from between her legs by the wrist and with the other I lock them in my fist turning her around shoving her against the long narrow table at the wall. Gravity forces her body down and she stumbles forward, causing some of the items on the table to come crashing to the sandstone floor. With the free hand, I grab a fist full of hair yanking her head back so I can whisper in her ear. She winces, and it elicits a low chuckle from me. I find it ironic that the queen of pain can't handle it a little of it herself.

"This will be on my terms and not yours," I say before releasing her hair and forcing her head back down. She moans and it irks me because it hits me that she wasn't in pain she was aroused.

"You make me proud Christian. I taught you well," she growls.

"Fuck you."

"Please do," she taunts.

It feels like I'm having an outer body experience, as I embrace the evil in me that I've been resisting for so long. Holding her in place by her wrist at her back I bring my hand forward, as I unleash a torrid of slaps on Elena's ass. The sound resonates around the room and the rush I get is scaring me it's so exhilarating. This is the first time the roles have been reversed and I'm one doing the punishing and after today I will never be able revert back. I like the control too much, fuck, I'm crossing further and further into the abyss I curse inwardly.

Her ass is a deep shade of red and I nearly explode from the sight of it. I was not gentle with her by any stretch of the imagination yet Elena is writhing with pleasure and shaking her ass at me. It so fills me with rage, I force myself to resist dragging her by her hair to her own dungeon and use some of her brutal instruments on her. But the bitch would probably enjoy that too. I close my eyes, as I try to regulate my breathing so I can maintain my control. Opening them, I take a death grip on her hair pulling it so hard I can almost see the strands lifting from the root.

"Damn Christian, I taught you how to be gentler. This shit hurts," she wines

"Really. When in the fuck did you teach me how to be gentle? Bitch you don't know the meaning of gentle. When were you, ever gentle with me? You've never shown me any mercy, so why should I show you?" I'm seething. "Let me demonstrate to you what've learned from you." My arm resting firmly on her back, I manage to dig a foil packet out of my pocket before pushing my pants and brief to my feet.

"I have lube in my purse," she offers, when she hears the rip of the foil packet.

"We won't need it," I hiss before driving my rock hard cock into her little pucker. She yelps in pain, but it only spurs me on forcing me to go harder and faster.

This isn't the first time I've fucked her in the ass, but it is the first time I've gone in without the proper preparation. And it's the most animalistic fucking I've ever done. Before now I thought our fucking was hard and raw, but this transcends that. All those years that she's fed my darkness is now coming back to bite her in the proverbial ass.

"Christian, please. What are you doing? You're hurting me." Her voice is peppered with fear, but I can also hear the arousal

"Did you think about my pain all the times you beat me, within an inch of my life, Mistress?" I grunt as I rear back bringing my cock out to the rim of the tiny whole only to slam back into her with enough force to lift her body causing her to come to her toes.

It sickens me that I'm enjoying this so much, that I'm relief when I feel my orgasm roaring through my body. As my final act of revenge, I make no attempt at bringing her to her peak. I pull out which causes her to wince and looking down I see a light coating of blood on the condom evidence of how brutally I took her. I have to admit it's disturbing to me, at the same time I thrilled at my reaction it proves that I have some human qualities left, so quickly I remove the soiled rubber but instead of tossing it in the nearby waste can, I intentionally let it fall to her emulate floor. Lifting the arm holding her in place, I reach down to quickly pull up my pants with my briefs.

"For the last time we're done, get that through your head. This is who I am around you. A monster," I shout, as she crumples to the floor and I actually feel sorry for her.

She doesn't look like the strong, intimidating Dom that with one glare could make me quake at the knee and get aroused at the same time. No, she looks like a pathetic, sad, lonely woman. And I've stooped to her level making me no better than her. I always knew I had this in me, and I just proved it. Now I need to get the hell out of here before I'm lost forever.

"Christian, please don't go. Please. Don't leave me. You're mine," Elena sobs behind me.

Her cries are useless, my body is present, but I'm already gone. I left her and this life behind last night. As soon as I slam the door behind me, I double over and purge my breakfast.

"Fuck me two steps forward, 100 steps back."

"Fuck Cassie what do you want from me?"

"To be more than the girl you fuck. Is that too much to ask?" She whimpers

Cassie's been riding me about taking our relationship to some mysterious next level and tonight it has come to a head. The truth is, I didn't realize we were in a relationship. She was my first attempt at something resembling normalcy with the opposite sex after I left Elena. Sighing I run my hands through my hair.

"Look Cassie if you want more, I'm not the one. This is all I'm capable of, you knew what you were getting into with me. I was very clear. You pursued me, so don't act like an injured party in this."

"Fuck you Grey. Yes, I pursued you. I liked you , so shoot me. But all relationships start out as one thing and eventually evolve. But we've been stuck in the same place for months…" I interrupt her

"That's the problem Cassie, you see this as a relationship and I don't."

"For someone, so smart you sure are dense Grey. I've fallen in love with you and you treat me like some dirty little secret. You don't acknowledge me on campus. You don't take me out. All we do is stay in this damn apartment so you can screw my brains out. And as great as sex is with you, I want more. I've always wanted more and I only accepted the crumbs you gave me because at least it allowed me to be around you." She pauses and her shoulders slump slightly and they begin to shake as she tries to control her sobs. The gentlemen to the end I walk up to her taking her in my arms. "Why do you have to be so damn charming and handsome?" She muses, but I'm certain the words weren't meant for my ears.

"What can I say Cassie, I'm an asshole. You deserve better." I push her back from me and put my fingers under her chin to nudge her face up so I can see her eyes. "Unfortunately I'm not capable of giving you more Cassie. Clearly it's a boyfriend you want and that's not me. I'm good for a good fuck, not a commitment. If I gave you the wrong indication when we first hooked up, my bad. You're a knockout and you should be on a guy's arm for all to see. I thought you accepted this for what it was but if it no longer works for you, I'll understand. You need to do what's best for you." My honesty hurts her, I can see pain and disappointment in her crystal blue eyes.

She walks out of my arms turning her back to me. I hold my breath as she collects her thoughts and I patiently wait for her to make the next move. I'm cool with whatever it is. A final sniff, a hand swipe over her face and a flip of her blond tresses Cassie swivels to face me.

"Well, Grey if this is all I get. Let's get to it," she says seductively pushing me to the sofa.

Cassie tried to walk back what she said, but my mind was made up, so despite one last romp in the sack I ended it…whatever it was. Realistically the gap was too wide for us to close, there was no room for compromise when what we wanted was so entirely different. She wanted everything and I wanted nothing; in the end it was in her best interest to let her go to find her happily ever after.

Post Elena things haven't gone as planned, I'm finding it more difficult than I initially thought to forge a relationship with the opposite sex. Since Cassie, it's been one one-night stand after the other, with a vow to never fuck the same girl twice to avoid the clusterfuck that happened with her. My self-imposed sanctions has forced me to adopt a library style nomenclature for my hook ups…I go alphabetically by first name. I'm fortunate, to have a plentiful Rolodex, but unfortunate for every girl in it, I'm the biggest douchebag on campus. Since I pretty much fuck every night, I'm already on the letter M. I never realize there were so many girls with names that start with the letter, lucky for me one of them will be arriving soon. So in preparation I push my hands between the seat cushions to make sure Monika from last night didn't leave a souvenir behind. It may feel like paranoia, but I've found out the hard way that girls were leaving panties behind stuffed in my sofa.

"Finally a call from the very sexy and elusive Christian Grey," Madison purrs when I open the door.

"I guess it's your lucky day," I say yanking her by the arm pulling her inside.

"I would say it's yours, seeing that I'm the senior. Usually, I don't fuck freshmen, but from what I've heard you're worth it. You've been a very busy boy lately Grey. After not fucking anyone, you've nearly made your way around campus," she smirks.

"Madison did you come here to talk or what? I can do without the side comments."

"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk….Hold your horses Christian. You'll get it when I'm ready to give it to you. You may be packing, but I'm the upper classman and you're still just a lowely freshmen, after all," she says condescendingly wagging a well-manicured but not painted finger at me. "So don't get too full of yourself." Confidently she sashays further inside turning to show me her yeah-and-what-are-you-going to do about it face.

Wrong move on her part. It brings out the BDSM side of me. After Elena, I vowed to never let another female have control over me in the bedroom or anywhere else for that matter so I need to shut this down now.

"Freshmen, upper classman it doesn't matter." I start unbuttoning my Levi's as I spit out the words. My voice is stern and commanding, like a Dom. She may not be familiar with the term, but she knows I mean business. "Now let me tell you how this is going to work," I lower the zipper on my jeans pulling out my rock hard member and the expression on her face is priceless.

"First you're going to suck this." I stroke it up and down to emphasize my point. "Then you're going to swallow. Then I will fuck you senseless. And once I've had enough of this." I walk up to her to cup her between the legs and she gasp. "I'm I going to tap that ass and just when you think you can't take it anymore I'm going to start all over again from the beginning. And because you deserve it for your poor attitude I'm going to spank you." I take a step back to give her room. "On your knees so we can get this party started." Like a good little girl Madison scrambles to the floor. If she has an objection, she doesn't put up any. They never do, none of them ever offer me any real challenge. And in the rare instance one attempts too, they give me in as soon as they are in my presence.

Soon as her mouth envelopes my cock, I cup the back of her head forcing her to take me deeper. I hear her gag, but I don't pull back. I'm in my element, I'm in that dark place.

"Madison," I call out as I nudge her shoulder. "Wake up." We've been at nonstop since she arrived. I've ridden her hard and put her away wet, but now it's time for her to leave my apartment. Another rule I've adopted since the Cassie debacle, no overnight stays.

"No. I'm too sore I don't think I can go anymore," she says groggily and it makes me chuckle.

"Sure you could if I wanted you to. But I'm waking you because you need to leave."

"What? What time is it?" She ask sleep in her eyes and voice.

"About 2 am."

"C'mon Christian. It's late let me stay. I'm tired and sore. Only 30 minutes ago you were fucking my brain outs and this is the first time I've had to sleep all night," she wines and I use my hand to move her blonde tresses back from her face and over her shoulders. She is stunning and after initially irritating me, I found her to be quite pleasant.

"I have to admit you were damn good, but you can't stay here. My bed isn't made for sleeping." My words are cold but my tone chillier so it takes me by surprise when she puts a finger to my lips to shush me.

"Well then who needs sleep," she says seductively before her head gets lost under the sheets. This really wasn't my intention, but who am I to say no to a woman who can suck a cock like Madison.

"You're a bastard Christian Grey," Madison yell as she searches the apartment for her clothes. Even after she went down on me, I still didn't relent on letting her spend the night. She's doing her best to insult me, but her words are falling on deaf ears. Considering all I've been through with my birth mother and Elena, there's not much these college Co-ed's can say to hurt me.

I was having sex nightly, but it was becoming boring. The girls were all starting to look alike and act alike, no longer holding my interest. So to spice things up, I started to pay for it, but the call girls weren't doing it for me either so against my better judgement I took Elliot up on his idiotic offer and twenty-four later I was meeting India

My initial reluctance notwithstanding, it turned out to be the best decision I've ever made. We didn't exactly hit it off. However, we felt there was a connection worth exploring. But an hour into our first date, we both agreed a friendship was our best option. I mean I was definitely attracted to her, she's fucking beautiful. She reminds me of Gabrielle Union without the European hair, as India calls it. In addition, her body is fierce, but she's definitely more than her outer shell. Indy has depth and a conviction that's enviable. She's a huge proponent of human rights, for everyone but especially women and African Americans.

But what intrigues me most about her is how comfortable she is in her skin because I'm so uncomfortable in mine considering I have all the advantages that comes with its color. She isn't bothered by the fact that she doesn't look like many people on Harvard's campus. She wears her difference as a badge of honor; her uniqueness as something to be appreciated but not celebrated. Because being black doesn't define her, I've heard the explanation so often I can now quote it verbatim, "_I might be the descendants of slaves, but I represent the world around me. My truth is a testament to everything and everyone that has touched my life which includes a large cross section of people and social movements. Sojourner Truth maybe one of my heroines but so is Mother Theresa. I love the Harlem Renaissance period with authors like Zora Neale Hurston and Langston Hughes, but I'm also a fan of Realism with the likes of Ernest Hemingway and F. Scott Fitzgerald. I could go on and on, but I think you get the point …I can't be put me in a box I don't fit_." I first heard this when I made the mistake of inquiring why she wore her hair natural versus straight. To me, the question was innocuous so I was not prepared the firestorm that followed.

Everyone on campus is skeptical of our friendship, the guy can't believe I'm not fucking her and the girls are all jealous because they think I am. Indy and I find it quite comical, being the much more evolved of the two of us she sees there's attitudes as a social commentary on how society view male female relationships. Me, on the other hand, see it as bullshit. Regardless she's the best friend I've never had and is privy to all my sexual conquests which she constantly lectures me about. Calling me out on my fear of commitment.

We're both pretty bummed that it's the end of the school year, we've been inseparable since meeting. Elliot and Miranda get a kick out of our friendship, like everyone else they can't believe we're not fucking. We conclude it's because they are projecting their shallow beliefs on us. I was hoping to meet Miranda when she came to help Indy, but she had an interview for a Master's program. So I stayed to help instead, though I completed my classes a few days earlier. The truth is, I was planning to stay anyway, but this gives me a good cover.

"Okay Indy, you are driving me fucking crazy. What's wrong? You've been talking in fucking code and snapping at me when I fail to decipher the shit. So I need you to come clean. There's something wrong and I can't let you get on that fucking airplane until you tell me," I snarl when I pull over to a vacant lot near the airport in hopes of getting to the bottom of Indy's foul mood.

Irritating me more, she responds by covering her face with a forearm and in exasperation throws her head back against the headrest. "Now I get it," she mumbles under her breath but I hear it.

"Well, enlighten me?" I snap turning in my seat to face her.

"This is what I get Grey. I understand why your harem thinks you're dense."

"Well, you know that better anyone. Got anything else?" I shrug my shoulders.

"Well try this on for size. I want you to be the one to take my virginity." She pauses. "There. Are you happy?" And she crosses her arms over her chest turning to stare out the passenger side window.

In exasperation, I run my hands through my hair as I process her words. A lot of things were playing out in my head as the culprit for her bad mood, but this never crossed my mind. I feel trapped because I don't see this ending happily either way it goes.

"I'm going to go for honesty here Indy…"

"I hope so," she says under breath interrupting me and I ignore her sarcasm.

"I don't know how to respond" I can hear her heavy breathing, but she continues to avoid making eye contact with me instead choosing the bland scenery outside. But with one last puff, she finally turns to face me and this time she succinctly explains herself.

"I've thought about this and it's what I want. I've never felt a connection like this with anyone, especially a man. And before you throw my words back at me, I know I was saving myself for marriage or the man I love. Well, you fit the bill.

_What the fuck?_

"Innndddy."

"Relax Grey, I'm not talking about romantic love. I think what we have transcends that. Since meeting you I've shared everything with you so it makes sense that I would want to share this too," she whispers and I take her hands in mine.

"C'mon Indy this is different. You aren't asking me to share a slice of pizza with you or last night's Gossip. Do you know what you're asking? It's life-affirming and I don't know if I'm prepared for the fallout. Are you? Like you said what we have is special and I don't want to mess it up. You better than anyone in this world knows how challenging it is for me to form a lasting bond so please don't put me in a position to lose what we've built. I can't risk you losing you." I hold her hands up to my lips to kiss the back of her knuckles.

"You know what Christian you're talking a good game but its BS. The least you could do is tell me the truth. You're the one who has slept with every bimbo on campus and I'm the one who has to beg. Gimme a break. The truth comes out and it's what everyone else has known; I'm not your type." And she cocks her head to the side. "Now it explains why you found it so easy to be my friend." She pulls her hands back from me and glare at me.

"You can't be fucking serious?"

"Well I am. I've not seen you with a girl that looks like me and I've seen all the girls that have paraded in and out of your apartment. And you know what Grey you're so predictable. Blonde, boobs the size of melons with brains the size of a pea. Really? I would've expected more originality, at least one brunette for variety."

"Wow, India. I thought I knew. I didn't realize you were so judgmental. For your information, they are not bimbos you of all people should know you can't be dumb to get into Harvard. What happened to not judging a book by its cover?"

"I don't know you tell me Grey. Why should I be so knowledgeable about Harvard's acceptance policy? Is it because I'm black? For your information I didn't need affirmative action, I got in because of my grades."

"I'm not going there with you because it's a fight I will never win. But you know you're twisting my words. It's never been about the race among us. What happened to the big speech you gave me, about how evolved you are? You're not defined by your color. Remember? So stop trying to use color as a wedge issue between us now. I see what you're doing. You're deflecting. You're hurt because you think I rejected you. I know the tactic, I'm the master. But you missed the point. I'm not saying no because I'm not attracted you, I'm saying no because I am." In exasperation, I close my eyes and lay my head back on the headrest to collect my thoughts

"In spite of how hard you try to downplay your appearance, to me you're the most beautiful woman on this planet. Hell, I wanted to sleep with you that first day, but with my track record I knew what that would mean...not seeing you again. And Indy that was not an option for me. It still isn't. I don't want to lose you." I say when I bring my head forward.

"I can appreciate that and that's what I love about you Christian…You're heart. It's bigger than you let people see. But you're the one who's not getting it. It's because of our bond that I'm comfortable with this arrangement. What we feel for each other is based on mutual respect,the same can't be said for your other sexual encounters. You know all those women from Mensa," she smirks and I can't help but laugh at her nod to my assertion that all my conquests were Brainiacs. The laughter helped to lighten mood in the car.

"You know I can never deny you Ms. Somers." I give her my boy next door smile. "So I guess we'll need to reschedule your flight. You will need to tell your parents of course leaving out the sleeping together part," I joke coaxing a smile out of her. "And we'll need to come up with a location. Because I'm sure as hell not going take your virginity in this damn car," I say and she leans over letting her head fall on my shoulder.

This feels like déjà vu," she says wistfully staring out the car window.

"Yep, I know."

"This is it," she says as we pull up to the departure gate .

"Thank you, Christian for everything. It was perfect." She pauses. "No, it was more than perfect."

"It was." I reach up to cup the side of her face as the words get caught in my throat. She looks different and when she leans into my touch she feels like perfection. "I'll think about you all summer."

"Don't make promises Christian. You don't have to make promises to me. I made the decision and I don't regret it. I will never regret what we shared." She pulls the hand cupping her face away and brings it to her lips placing butterfly kisses on my palm. "Bye, Christian." And she let my hand fall.

"Bye India," I say and she gives me a warm smile as she puts a hand on the handle. There's a lump in my throat as I watch her exit the car, for what feels like the final time.

"I guess they were all right," she says sticking her back in.

"Well we just won't tell them." She blows me a kiss and closes the door.

I want to stop her, but the words won't come out, although, my mouth is open. Dispirited, I watch her walk away as the Porter pushes her luggage behind her. My hand is clutching the door handle as I debate opening it and running after her. Alas, I think better of it, just like with Anastasia I have nothing to offer her. Indy had the uncanny ability to make me believe I could be a better person and around her I was. But it's back to reality. Life is not fair, I can't catch a break. I grip the staring wheel as I watch my heart disappear behind the sliding glass doors.

**India's POV**

"Keep walking. Keep walking. Keep walking." The chant plays out over and over on my lips. I want to peek over my shoulders to look back at the boy who holds my heart in his hands. He doesn't feel the same way and I knew that going in. Still it doesn't hurt any less. I'm afraid if I look back, he'll see my real feelings and I'll risk losing what we have – a friendship. As much as I would give anything to have a real relationship with him, Christian is a free spirit and he can't be confined. And that's exactly what all the girls have been try doing to do, but I love him enough not to. Ironically, it was what I found most endearing about him

I'm about to enter the terminal and I'm finding it harder to resist, but I do and I don't look back. Just as well, he's probably gone already and it would probably break me if I turned and he was not there. So I continue through the glass doors knowing I will always have last night and this morning.

I need a run to clear my head. It's been two weeks and I've not heard anything from India. It's not a like I've reached out to her, though she's consuming my every waking moment. Since I've made the decision not to return to Harvard, it's probably best this way.

"I'm going for a run, but I should be back for dinner," I yell at mom when I see her in the family room

Breathing hard, I find myself in front of her house and I try to convince myself that I don't know how I ended up here. But I know it's a lie, after a valiant effort I've come to the sad conclusion that this is the only place for me. So I jog up to the door and I let my finger hover over the doorbell, as I contemplate my rationale for pushing the blinking red light. However, before I can decide, she opens the door. She is standing, with an arm seductively resting against the frame with a smug expression plastered on her face.

"Christian," she purrs. "I've been expecting you. I knew you wouldn't be able to stay away." I swat her arm down and stroll past her.

"You can wipe that smug look off your face. It's going to be different this time," I snarl when I'm inside. But Elena being Elena has to have the last word.

Seductively she unwraps the same wrap dress she was wearing at our last encounter and she lets it fall to the floor revealing her well tone body.

"Show me," she growls reaching back and with only the graze of her fingers she slams the door shut.

A/N: There will be a time jump and you know who will reappear… Thank you and please review and let me know what you think.


	4. Chapter 4: There she is

Chapter 4 : Here she is

**A/N: The title says it all…Enjoy. And thanks for reading my story…please share your review with me**

**Disclaimer: Fifty Shades of Grey belongs to EL James this is only my interpretation**

_"__Roz put a comparison report together for India and the Philippines and we'll touch bases next week. Follow up with Andria so you can get you on my docket."_

_"__Thanks, boss. By the way, Christian how is it going to Portland?" She can barely contain her laughter._

_"__Fuck you Roz." And I end the call. She's the only one who can get away with talking to me the way she does._

_The reason I agreed to this farce of a photo shoot are two-fold; I want to forge a relationship with Kavanagh Media and to have some fun at Katherine Kavanaugh's expense. The latter is counter to my long-held business policy, but I think young Ms. Katherine Kavanaugh is sophisticated enough to handle what I have planned for her._

_Reaching for the glass of amber liquid, I see the report with India written on it. The name takes me back to a time when for a brief moment, I was foolishly enough to believe love was a possibility for me. You know what they say youth is wasted on the young._

Despite my best efforts, I'm losing the fight with my unruly hair and I'm the one ready to submit. Giving up, I settle on a very messy ponytail so I can move on to the real battle…what to wear? A last tightening and I double check in the mirror that the ponytail is at least covering up my dark roots. It's moments like these I question my sanity in bleaching my brunette tresses blonde. I need a touch-up, but I don't have the time or the money right now.

"Gee. Ana you could've at least tried?" Irked, Kate peruses me from my head to my toe and back again as she inspects every inch of my appearance.

Needless to say, she does not approve of my outfit for the photoshoot she coerced me into helping her. I have on my Levi's from yesterday, the t-shirt I wore Wednesday and my everyday converse completes the look. The way I see it, what I'm wearing is more than appropriate because essentially I'll be the designated gopher as I'll be working with Jose as his assistance. Kate had the audacity to use me as bait to drag him in too, now that we're dating she seems to think we're a packaged deal.

Kate's attitudes could be misconstrued as snotty or snobby at best, but I see a larger issue at play. She's more concern about this photo shoot with Mr. Grey than she's letting on, so spitting venom at me is a coping mechanism for her. And yes, she genuinely hates my outfit.

The little I know about Christian Grey comes from one short lecture, what's written in the tabloids and Kate. Coincidentally, I'm doing a report on him for my business class, but I've only gotten as far as a rough outline. A fact Kate leveraged to pull me in as her accomplice. She promised me unfettered access to the elusive entrepreneur; however, I quickly determine it's empty because I will barely have any interaction with the man because of my role as Jose's assistance. In addition, considering what I've heard of his less than warm personality I doubt he would grant me a face to face anyway. If his directive for us to address him by Mr. Grey is any indication I willing to take the hearsay as fact.

Finally, I get Kate to relax and it's my turn to check her out. As expected Kate looks flawless. It's clear that Katherine Kavanagh is dressed to impress, and she was expecting the same from me. She is ready to dominate; the question becomes who; Jose, me or the breathtakingly handsome Christian Grey. Knowing Kate my money is on all of us, but the man in her cross hairs is the magnetic business man.

She's been fixated on him, since conducting the interview of the century-Her name for it, not mine. It may sound vain, but it's the truth, I'm a witness. Christian Grey is the only man to rebuff Kate's advances and this dumbfounded not only her, but me as well. So being her supportive best friend I helped Kate hash a plan using this photoshoot as a cover up for her to have another shot at ensnaring the hot Mr. Grey. And helping him to see the error of his ways. I want this put this on my resume, but it has been a fun and silly undertaking. A reason to sing "Irreplaceable" daily for a couple of weeks itself was worth the price of admission. The Beyoncé single was our theme song and we used it to set mood belting out the line, 'You must not know about me' every time we discussed Mr. Grey.

The photo shoot is only phase 1 of the plan; steps 2, 3 and 4 are all Kate. She'll have to go it alone the rest of the way to get her man and from the looks of it, I'd say she's well on her way to victory. She looks stunning; everything about her screams, money, good breeding and of course sex. Her strawberry blonde hair is cascading in shiny loose curls around her face, over her shoulders to her back. She's wearing stylish gray fitted slacks paired with a Cashmere cream twinset which seems rather conservative for Kate until you get a closer look.

At first glance, the set conjures up the memory of Mary Poppins, but upon further inspection it's more Jenna Jamison. The shell has a very deep plunging neckline that should be outlawed in all 50 states including Alaska, and a similar plunge is on the back. There's a long strip of sheer fabric on the back of the cardigan that allows the plunge to be seen. ... Stilettos and chunky jewelry complete the ensemble making the look, professional with a flirty youthful twist. All in all, she looks very much like the confident young professional woman because at the end of the day the shoot does have a business purpose, despite the shenanigans going on behind the scenes.

Everything set, Kate and I walk to her Mercedes. The plan is to have Jose meet us at the Heathman. Because of our early disagreement, the tension in the car is thick so I decide to be the bigger person and nip it in the butt. The ride is too long to be uncomfortable.

"Look Kate I'm sorry I'm not dressed to your liking, but give me a break. Today was supposed to be my day off and honestly I didn't feel like getting all dolled up. The Truth is you're lucky I'm not in sweats." I go for humor.

"Ana you're fine. It's not you. I'm starting to feel antsy about this whole thing." She finally admits what I suspected.

"Don't worry too much, you got this," I reassure her. "Tell you what let me hear for your part of the plan."

"It's simple, I'm going for authenticity, and will be my charming self and doing what I do best. Bat my lashes every time he speaks and show him my tits and ass, as often as possible," she says deadpan and I can't help but burst out laughing. When I get another glimpse of her cleavage I get where she's coming from, but hardly see it as a viable option.

"You're not serious?" I ask still laughing. But when I see her facial expression it scares me.

"Oh no. You are serious," I say with trepidation and my laughing ceases. "Kate you spent weeks bitching to me how he seemed to be annoyed by such blatant behavior, and you're going to repeat it?" I ask incredulously

"Hell Ana. You got any suggestions?"

"Surely you jest? You're asking me? The girl who has a boyfriend by default," I say dismissively and give her an exaggerated eye roll.

"Puff. Please. Jose has been sweet on you from the beginning and he's not the only one. You would have plenty of admirers if you pulled your head out of those damn books long enough to notice." Grasping the steering wheel tightly, she gives me a quick glance. "And don't get me started on that Christian crap. You're not fooling me, I know it's the reason it was so easy for me to get you to agree to this photoshoot, regardless I'm glad you're here." She removes a hand to give my knee a light squeeze.

Ouch, am I that transparent? My guess is yes because you'd have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to pick up on my odd fascination with everything "Christian". In my mind, my obsession makes all the sense in the world until I try explaining it to someone then I sound and feel like a crazy person. It began innocently enough years ago, when I met this very nice young man, named Christian who helped me through one of the roughest patches in my life. He was kind, sweet, protective and encouraging to me at a time when no one else was and I will always be grateful to him. He had such an impact on me that night, and to this today I credit him with much of my success. Because of him I not only survived my circumstance I'm thriving. That night was so special to me, I created a keepsake box with all the mementos that he gave to me and my dream is to one day find the mysterious young man and tell him thank you. In the meantime, I need to focus on surviving the morning with Kate and Mr. Grey. I don't envy the man; Kate on a mission is like a heat seeking missile she never misses her target.

"Look Kate, as you know I've not gotten into my research, so what I know about the man comes from you and it's clear he doesn't suffer fools likely much like you. The way I see it, the two of you have a lot in common, so use it to your advantage. Go after him the way you would coach a man to go after a woman like you."

"Genius Ana," she says giddily. "I'll need to be aloof yet approachable. Mysterious yet vulnerable. Sensual but not sexual. Above all smart, strong and confident." Turning her head towards me I see a broad smile plastered on her face.

"In other words. Be the brash and sassy Katherine Kavanagh I know and love." I say lovingly.

"Yeah. 'He must not know about me'," she sasses and snaps her fingers for emphasis and we start howling. And it makes me happy to see Kate relax.

"See Dorothy you had it all along," I chortle.

After tinkering with the dial, Kate finally lands on "Irreplaceable". Over the Mercedes sound system, we hear Bey crooning "To the left. To the left. To the left… "And to the top of our voices, we join in singing with her. We sing and bop our heads, the rest of the way to the Heathman and I can only imagine what we looked like to the rest of the drivers on the road…Loons are my best guess. But my friend was happy and that's all that mattered to me.

_

"One thing I will say about your outfit, you look good going and coming,'' she smirks. "Your dirty jeans are hugging your perky ass like a glove, and that tee shirt is accentuating the girls perfectly." And she wiggles her nose at me. "So maybe you got it right after all." She winks

"Yeah right compared to who? The janitor. Because next to you I might as well be one," I say sarcastically. I'm not going to admit to her that I'm starting to regret my fashion choices after all. Knowing Jose the way I do he'll be dressed to impress like Kate. He takes his photo shoots seriously, even though photography is only a hobby for him so that leaves me the lone wolf in the group. Oh well.

Jose arrives soon after us and I'm thankful because I thought I was going to have to peel Kate from the ceiling. Smartly, he's used a cart to bring up the equipment and I rush over to assist while Kate takes a call. As soon as I reach him, Jose greets me by pulling me in for an embrace and giving me a chaste kiss on the lips.

"Sweetheart seeing you first thing in the morning makes this whole thing worth it," he says before releasing me and I take an end of the cart helping him pull it the rest of the way.

Like school children, Jose and I roll our eyes and giggle as Kate snaps instructions at us like we're her paid employees instead of reluctant volunteers. Not wanting to rain on her parade we follow along, giving her the sense of power and control she needs right now while mumbling our displeasure behind her back. Then inexplicably, I watch as Kate stalks angrily to the other end of the suite and I take off behind her.

"Kate. " I call on her and she slows. "Are you okay? I'm sorry if we did something to you," I say when I catch up with her.

"I'm fine. I'm the one who should apologize. I'm a little crazy. At the risk of sounding overly dramatic, my future as a journalist may well depend on this stupid college assignment. So pulling it off successfully, will go a long way towards my career. Conversely, if I fail, Grey could torpedo it before I get it off the ground. I know I've been focused on the superficial bullshit, and this started out as some ploy to bring Christian Grey to his knees." She puts air quotes around knees. "But there's so much more at stake and it's beginning to stress me out.." Her voice is strained and for the first time I see the usually calm and cool Katherine Kavanagh look not so calm or so cool.

"So does that mean you've given up on operation make Christian Grey 'Beg for It'?" An aptly titled song from Iggy Azalea that we added to the list of theme songs for this operation. I'm a geek who likes music and because I'm not very good at expressing myself sometimes I rely on music to do it for me. I joke that I'm going to pen my autobiography using song titles as the prose.

Staring at Kate, I can see the proverbial wheels turning, as she ponders my question and it scares me.

"Hell no. Just a minor revision." And we fall into a fit of the giggles.

"Okey Dokey then, stay chilled…we got your back. Don't pay attention to Jose and me, it's early and we're giddy. So tell me what you need?"

"Could you please go in the bedroom and bring me the folder I have sticking out of my bag? I would get it myself, but Mr. Grey should be here shortly, and I want to be in the room to greet him when he arrives," she says checking her phone for the time.

"No worries, I got it," And I start walking briskly to the bedroom.

"Hey Ana, Sweetie" Jose call out to me from across the room, and I halt my steps.

I'm fairly certain I'll never get used to his terms of endearment for me. I still can't take us serious as a couple. I blame myself for letting Kate convince me that taking our relationship to the next level was a good idea. We worked great as best friends, but as a couple not so much. My feelings for him still leans platonic rather than romantic, no matter how hard I try.

"Since you're heading to the bedroom, would you grab a pillowcase for me, please?" He asks.

"Okay," I say and continue to the bedroom.  
Everything in my hands and my task completed I make my way out of the room. I double check to make sure the bedroom door is closed all the way to prevent any unwanted sunlight from filtering into the suite.

_"Ms. Kavanagh." I hold my hand out greeting the tenacious young woman. She takes it, but unlike the last time she successfully disguises how affected she is by me; too bad for her, I'm the master at picking up the telltale signs of a woman's arousal… No matter how nuanced._

_"Mr. Grey," she says politely when she takes my hand and I can't resist having a little fun with her. I give her a patent Christian Grey smile and watch the young woman nearly combust in front of me. If her panties weren't wet before they are now. She's coy, but I'm fairly certain she has ulterior motives when it comes to this photoshoot. My eyes happened to go down and I get an eye full. Her plunging neckline is barely covering her ample boobs. I smile to myself. "Katherine Kavanaugh has to come to play. Game on." It'll be like March Madness, one and done…I'll give her the fuck of life and send her on her way. Mischievous on my mind, I release her hand intentionally letting my long fingers graze her palm and I feel her quiver under my touch. Mission accomplished. Over my shoulders I point out Taylor to give her time to regain her composure._

_"Our photographer for the day is over there, Jose Rodriguez." She points to the young man with the camera in his hand and he gives me a weak but polite wave of the hand. Unimpressed, I don't bother making a gesture in return. Sensing, my reticence, Katherine quickly stares my attention away from him_

_"Again thank you so much for agreeing to this photo shoot. We'll get started shortly, our technical assist..." Something distracts her causing her to pauses momentarily while I wait impatiently, then I hear it. _

_It's crystal clear and to my ear it remains largely unaffected by time so I don't have to see her face to know it's her, but I'm compelled too. I've seen her in my dreams and often a few nightmares here and there, practically every night since that night and I'm keen to see her again. I Turn my body slowly in her direction, being careful not to appear too anxious but my heart is beating so fast I'm afraid I won't be able to keep my steely disposition intact. Baffled by the thick mass of long blond hair at her back I run a hand through mine, as I mull how I could've gotten it so wrong; her voice is ingrained in my head. Unaware of the stranger assessing her, she's unfazed and doesn't turn her body as quickly as I would like. But she finally does everything stands still for me as my eyes lock with the most stunning, soulful sapphire eyes imaginable. It was her, proving my long held believe- that I would never forget those eyes and that voice._

_All sensibility disappears and overly excited, I blurt out her full name like a pimply face teenager instead of the intimidating CEO I am. She freezes, but I'm sorely disappointed when I don't see the same recognition register for her._

_Confusion is written all over her face, and I can see her searching mine, but her stare remains blank as nothing registers. So slowly she starts walking towards me for a closer inspection, and she stumble slightly, but it's barely noticeable. I only caught it because I'm locked in on her every move. Though there isn't that much distance between us, it feels like a lifetime and I'm forced to hold my breath waiting for her to reach me. When she finally closes the distance, I lean in so only she can hear whispering clues to help her remember. When it clicks, her eyes become the size of saucers and she exhales exuberantly as she brings her hands to her mouth to either capture or hide her exuberance …I'm not sure. Either way, I have what is tantamount to a very goofy grin on my face I'm sure, but I don't give a damn…Anastasia Rose Steel is standing in front of me. Time may not have had much effect on her voice, but it has been very good to her body… She's most definitely not a little girl anymore. Anastasia Rose Steel is all grown up._

_As I chastise myself for the direction of my wayward thoughts, she extends a hand to me, but I rebuff it surprising even myself by pulling her flush against my body instead. As our bodies collide, there's an electrical current and I wonder if she feels it's to or was it my imagination. In my periphery view, I can see Taylor approaching, and I nod for him to stand down. Poor guy, he's probably as confused as I am; my phobia is pretty much gone, but I detest people invading my personal space. But this young woman is like a talisman for me because every time I'm in her presence I feel changed and I let my eyes close as I get lost in the scent and feel of her. I can feel, but not see the eyes of Ms. Kavanagh and the Photographer burning a hole in me. Envy is probably eating at Katherine, but what the fuck is the Photographer's problem?_

"I have everything so we're good to go," I say as I look back giving the door a final pull. Then I freeze when I come face to face with the most beautiful pair of grey eyes I've ever seen on the most beautiful face I've ever seen. Since the stranger was not here, when I went in the room, I can only assume that these features belong to one Mr. Grey. He is gorgeous, Kate did not do him justice with her description and trust me she was very generous. Nor did the tabloid pictures; he's a Greek God and I'm mesmerized by him. So when I hear him call me by name, my full name none the less, I'm intrigued. How does this man know me and more importantly in what universe did I cross path with Christian Grey and not remember?

I'm hypotinized by him I can hardly move so I stumble slightly tripping over my own feet as I take my first step. Fortunately, it's noticeable because no one says anything. Somehow I manage to make it without a further catastrophe and I'm elated to be finally standing in front of the exceedingly handsome man. Up close his beauty is even more breathtaking and I stand stock still when he leans in to whisper in my ear so only I can say. "Seattle, about 8 or 10 years ago, a dock." When it finally registers, I feel like I'm going to faint I'm so excited. And instinctively I bring my hands to my mouth to capture my gasp and a very satisfied grin crosses his face.

I'm flabbergasted, could it be? It's him? Is it possible that Christian Grey is my Christian? This can't be real. He's smiling the most dazzling smile known to man and all I want to do is touch him confirming his realness and I'm not caught up in one of my dreams. So clumsily, I reach out to shake his hand and he stuns me by pulling me to him.

"I think we can do better that." His voice is caramel smooth and I know it wasn't his intention but I ignoring the electric charge I feel when our bodies connect, I throw my arms around his neck.

I can't believe my Christian is Christian Grey and I'm in his arms. This is surreal and I'm afraid I will wake up soon so I squeeze my eyes close; in order, to commit this moment to memory and I bury my head in the crook of his neck to take in his scent. I almost forgot that we're not alone and I feel all eyes on us at least 4 for sure. His arms are wrapped around my waist so tightly I feel my feet leaving the floor as he whirls me and I make eye contact with Kate whose mouth is practically on the floor it's open so wide.

"My Christian," I mouth to her in hopes of somehow making some sense of the scene playing out in front of her.

He releases me, setting me back on my feet leaving me bewildered. However, before I can react, Jose has moved in closer invading our space. Nervous and unsure what to do, I go for what comes naturally and start to make introduce the two.

"Mr. Grey." I'm so proud of myself that in the middle of this hysteria I remembered to address him correctly so I'm surprise when he interrupts me.

"Anastasia I think you can call me Christian," he smirks. "Besides, I've met everyone. Katherine made the introductions when you were out of the room." He's very diplomatic and doing is best not to make me feel like an idiot.

"Mr. Grey," Jose says catching me off guard and he extends a hand to Christian. "Kate failed to mention that I am Ana's boyfriend." Christian raises his brows and I pray for a big sinkhole to open up and swallow me alive, I'm so uncomfortable.

Of all the times, Jose chooses now to be jealous and possessive. He's throwing around the boyfriend label like it means something. He's my boyfriend in name only, and until now I never really regretted the decision.

"You're a lucky young man," Christian say shaking Jose's proferred hand. His voice is chillier, but his expression remains impassive. "Anastasia and I go back a long ways." Christian winks at me and Jose grabs me by my forearm leading me to the side out of earshot of Christian

"We need to talk," Jose says under his breath.

"Later," I whisper and he releases me to continue to the area where he'll be photographing Christian to put the finishing touches on the backdrop. Once Christian and Jose are in a rhythm, Kate and I step back to take up residence several feet away from them.

"We need to talk." I'm really starting to hate this phrase. In the awkward silence, we watch Jose and Christian until Kate is the first to speak.

"Okay. The guys are in a groove which gives us some time to talk. Spill. You can't say Christian Grey is my Christian and drop it," she says tersely but keeps her voice low as not to be a distraction.

"I wasn't planning to drop it, I just didn't want to talk about it here Kate. My intentions are to tell everything at home." I say between clenched teeth donning a tight smile in an attempt to hide my frustration from Christian. However, like the investigative reporter she hopes to become, Kate doesn't won't let it drop. She like's a dog with a bone when she thinks she on to a good story and I feel like slapping her.

"Sorry, I'm finding it hard to believe that you couldn't figure this out before now. Come on Ana. You're bright, a genius probably and Let's not forget about the internet. With a few keystrokes, you could've solved this riddle years ago. Plus you're doing a paper on the man? Help me understand, how you were never able to make the connection between Christian and your mythical Christian?" She makes air quotes when she says the last part and I can't stop myself from rolling my eyes. Her words are condescending and I can almost slap her.

"Kate what can I say, I don't have your investigative instinct or smarts I guess. I didn't know enough about the man okay. So shoot me. Look Kate I was I was a kid when I met Christian and it was in less than ideal circumstances so can we please drop it?" I seethe.

I'm trying my best to hold it together because I know Christian can see I, but I lose when Kate starts to make insane comments and inflammatory remarks about sex.

"Enough Kate. What part of me being young do you not understand? So let be me clear, I was a minor to be exact, less than 10. Is this in terms you can understand? Furthermore, I was not in a place where I could comprehend what was going on around me less more what somebody looked like. Plus I'm not as shallow as you. So forgive me for not being superficial like you and focusing on someone's look. And to be honest with you I don't recall seeing his face there were other things more important. Like staying alive."

I don't realize I'm yelling until the only sound I hear is my own voice. The room has gone silent, even the clicking of Jose's Camera has ceased. When I look up, Christian and Jose are staring at me in utter shock. Christian's mouth is in a hard line, but Jose has outrage written all over his. Embarrassed by my tirade, I scramble to get away from the gawkers.

_Mr. Rodriguez isn't privy to what's going on behind him, but I have a bird's view. I can that tell that Katherine and Ana I are engaged in a heated discussion, regardless how of hard they try to hide it. I keep my eyes on Ana and every once in a while she flashes a warm smile my way; in order, to keep up with the farce until she can't take anymore lashing out at Katherine. Finally, the photographer is dialed in when he hears Anastasia screaming at the peak of her voice. She looks utterly gutted when she realizes she has a captive audience and I want to run to her, but she takes off._

_"__I think we have enough," I snip at the Photographer, but I don't wait for him to respond before I'm off after Ana. _

With no destination in mind I scurry to the other end of the room; I can hear Christian talking to Jose, but I can't make out the words. Soon there are footsteps behind me and I'm afraid to turn around. Uncertain of who it is, I pick up my pace in search of an escape route. But I'm not fast enough because as soon as I put my hand on the doorknob, I feel a hand at my elbow.

_When the she turns, her eyes glistening and I want to pull her into my arms to shield from whatever is going on. She doesn't meet my gaze and I don't understand why until without saying a word she nudges out my grasp and walks past me into the arms of the photographer. Admittedly, it hurts but I suck it up, pull on my jacket and walk back to the front of the suite as I watch her fall into the loser's arms._

_"__Ms. Kavanagh, our meeting is cancelled," I say tersely and she looks crushed but I don't give a fuck. She messed with Ana and she's move to my shit list._

_"__But Mr. Grey I have everything ready," she says. I have to give the girl credit. She's tenacious, but unfortunately for her the quality is overrated for me right now. She's clueless, if she thinks I'm going to reward her bad behavior. Upsetting Anastasia and blatantly disrespecting me. _

_"__You can send it over to my assistant."_

_"__I'm not sure how much of that you heard. But I would like to apologize," she says very contritely._

_"__I heard enough. Save your apologies for Anastasia," I warn and I walk to where Taylor is standing by the door. I give him my instructions and stroll out of the room_

I can't explain it, Jose felt right. He was the safer bet. I don't trust myself around Christian Grey; he's too intoxicating. As Jose pulls me in, I bring my arms around his neck and over his shoulder I secretly watch Christian and I feel devastated when I see him exit the suite. And I bury my head in Jose's shoulder and sob.

"What was that all about?" He ask

"Oh, you know Kate. She doesn't know when to stop," I say and I push out of his embrace.

"That's not what I'm talking about. I mean with Grey?' he says and I freeze for a moment.

"I'll tell you about it later? Like he said our paths crossed a long time ago and today is the first time, we've seen each other since. It's a long story and I really don't want to get into it here."

"Okay then, we'll table it for later. But instead of going out, why don't we pick up something and stay in so we can talk in privacy."

"That sounds good," I say.

"Alrighty then; as soon as, we get things cleaned up here. We'll take off." He releases me to take me by the hand leading me back to the front of the suite.

Christian's security guy walks up to me when we make it to the front and with my encouragement Jose reluctantly leaves me to talk to with him in private.

"Ma'am Mr. Grey would like to see you in his private suite," he says matter of fact and I think about it for a moment.

"Give me a minute. I need to talk to my friends." I decide to take Christian up on his offer fearing that I may never get this chance again. Then I remember I'm not driving.

"Um, you know what I don't have a car so I can't…" He interrupts me.

"Ma'am, that won't be a problem. Mr. Grey will see to it that you get home safely."

"Okay. But can I ask you favor?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Can you not call me ma'am it makes me feel old. You can call me Ana?"

"Yes Ma'am," he responds and I can't help but giggle.

"What did he want?" Jose asks

"Chris...Mr. Grey wants to see me." He sighs

"I hope you told him to tell his boss forget it. He's the most arrogant bastard I've ever meant," he hisses

"Jose." I chastise

"Sorry Ana I don't like him and I especially didn't appreciate how he was looking at you. He's too old to be looking at you like that. He's a pervert if you ask me, frankly I don't think you should be alone with the man," he rants

"Christian Grey is far from a pervert. If he was at staring me, it was because of our shared history and the shock of running into me, after all, these years so expectantly. But it was nothing sexual trust me. When I explain it will all make sense?"

"Okay then let's get this cleaned up so we can get out of here. Don't go with him, leave with me. I love you Ana and I want to understand so tell me?" And he reaches for me. This isn't his first time Jose has told me he loves me, but for some reason at this moment it feels awkward hearing those three little words leave his mouth and I stiffen at his touch. Oblivious, Jose continues rubbing his hands up and down my back as he holds me. I want to tell him I won't go but in my heart of hearts I know I need too. I want to. Feeling guilty I push out of his embrace to look at him.

"Jose. I know I keep repeating myself, but it's only to reiterate that there's so much you don't know but will understand when you do. But I have to go," I say and my voice breaks. His face falls and he looks so lost it breaks my heart.

Then without warning, he pulls me in and attempts to force his tongue down my throat. I struggle out of his grasp careful not to create a scene.

"What was that?" I ask hastily as I push back on his shoulders

"I wanted to remind you who you belong to," he whispers to me and I glare at him. I can't believe he just said that. I give him the benefit of the doubt because he's probably feeling overwhelmed.

"Really Jose. I'm going to give you a moment to thank about what you just did. In the meantime, I'm going to talk to Kate," And I stalk off.

"I'm sorry…" Kate and I say at the same time.

"Kate let me go first," She agrees. "You have every right to be curious, but I wasn't prepared to answer the questions. Because there are no simple answers, it requires a deeper conversation and this was not the time or place. But I will be ready to tell you when we get home" I say letting a weak smile cross my face.

"No. I should be the one apologizing. Per my motif operand, I pushed too hard. Aside from being nosey, I hate to admit it, I felt a tad bit jealous you know?"

"I get it, but you shouldn't bee, there's nothing between Christian and me. What you saw was the excitement we had at reconnecting with each other after so many years. It's surreal, but nothing more definitely not romantic or sexual like you and Jose think."

"Come on Ana I'm not stupid or blind. I saw the way he kept looking at you. And don't get me started on that damn hug. That was quite a show." She winks. "And the way he ran after you. Please, you can't tell me there isn't something there," she says incredulously.

"Okay I'll give you that one, but in the end I went to Jose instead. What does that tell you?" I tilt my head

"Yeah please. Whatever." She waves her hand at me. "So what did Mr. Tall, dark and mysterious have to say?" She asks changing the subject.

"Nothing really, Mr. Grey wants to see me when we're done here," I say nonchalantly

"You mean Christian, you get to call him by his first name Remember," she looks at me. "Now it makes sense why he cancelled our meeting."

"Oh, Kate I'm sorry I forgot about your meeting with him. I can say no and you can go up." I offer

"No, but thank you. I don't think he's very happy with me. So it's safe to say my plan is out the window. So I can only hope he doesn't torpedo my career before I even get it started. " She frowns.

"Oh, Kate he won't. I'll talk to him for you," I say

"By the way, why are you still here? Go"

"I wanted to help you guys get everything cleaned up first."

"Don't worry about it. Jose and I have it. I take it that you told Jose because I saw him trying to eat your mouth."

"Yep, he knows," I say wrinkling my nose

"Poor fool. Trying to keep up with Christian Grey," she sighs

"Kate," I warn and I leave her to have a final talk with Jose.

"Hey," I call out to get his attention and I rest a hand on his shoulders; in order, to ease the tension between us.

"Why don't you pick me up when I'm finish with Christian and we'll go back my apartment, Kate won't be there?"

"Okay. I'll pick you up later. I love you," he says and I give him a tight smile before walking away.

My heart races as I wait for Christian to open the door and I am greatly rewarded when he does. He's dressed more relaxed, in only his slacks that are resting sensually on his hip and crisp white shirt with a button undone at the neck. The tiny amount of skin exposed is enough to set my skin ablaze. Kate was right, he is the embodiment male of perfection and I'm starting to question my own sanity at not recall this beautiful man. In my defense, I still contend I didn't see his face.

"Ms. Steele," he says huskily bringing me back to the here and now.

"Mr. Grey," I say and my sounds breathy as I struggle to find it.

"You came." Oh, the innuendo and I'm tempted to say yes I almost did, but think better of it.

"As if you doubted I would," I try to make my response sound just as suggestive, but I fail miserably. Since I don't possess the same bravado and sexuality, the comment landed with a thud instead. And I see a crooked smile playing on his face like he has a hidden agenda. Could Jose and Kate be right? I let the thought marinate for a moment before reaching the speedy conclusion that it's an emphatic no and I have to catch myself from shake my head.

"Anastasia after what has transpired this morning, I'm not taking anything for granted." The statement is innocent enough, but the gleam in his eyes says so much more.

"Why am I'm here Mr. Grey?" The words are out before I have time to pull them back. The question was not met for his ears.

"Good question Anastasia. Why are you here?" He throws the question back at me and passing through his the lips the words sound more seductive. And when he steps closer, I nearly melt into a puddle of water at his feet. His scent is like a narcotic, it's addictive and with every whiff I get the more I want. Adding fuel to the flame, out of nowhere he brings a hand to my face and automatically I close my eyes. The tips of his fingers scarcely touch the edge of my jaw when he goes to move some loose strands of hair behind my ear. I've never had one, but I'm fairly certain I just did…Orgasm

"Come." There it is again. Another form of the verb. How could one simple word be laced with so much promise? I feel like he's toying with me now.

My panties are still damp from our last close encounter, so I don't trust what will happen if I take his hand. So I walk past him, intentionally avoiding the hand he has out to me and it's hard to miss the sardonic smile on his face. But I don't care because at this rate my panties will simply disintegrate.

"You wound me Ms. Steele. This is the second time this morning you've rebuffed me," he says behind me.

"You'll get over," I murmur under my breath so he can't hear. Instead, out loud I compliment him on the spread I see before me. I'm anxious to stare this conversation away from anything remotely sexual.

"I'm a man of means Anastasia. When you have means it's amazing the ways and length people will go to indulge your every desire," he says cockily.

Scratch that thought, apparently no words are safe under this man's lascivious tongue and there's no such thing as a sex free zone around him. Only Marvin Gaye was able to make the National Anthem sound sexy and like him Christian managed to turn items as non-sensual as breakfast pastries into an aphrodisiac. He knows what he's doing. This is definitely a game to him. He knows how affected I am by him and I wish I could wipe the smug look of his face. But I can't, it would be disingenuous…I'm enthralled.

_I feel lecherous, as I battle with the indecent thoughts I'm having about Anastasia. My emotions are mixed, I'm elated to be standing this close to her after wondering for years if she was okay; at the same I'm attracted to her. It was so much easier when she was only in my dreams where all my thoughts of her were only honorable ones; she was simply the little girl with the big chocolate curls, deep blue eyes, and a lyrical voice who needed me and I was her protector. But as I well know, life doesn't play out the same way in reality so here I am having carnal thoughts about our little project. This is so fucked up. Perhaps, I should send her on her way and have Ms. Kavanaugh brought up to fuck until the demons disappear. Sadly, I'm a selfish bastard, but I must keep these lustful thoughts in check._

_"__Christian are you okay?" Ana ask disrupting me from reaching some kind of clarity about the situation._

_"__Yes, I'm fine. Just a lot on my mind." My tone is clipped as I try to regain my control. _

How mercurial, his attitude had taken a 360 turn…Literally he has gone from steamy to artic. Maybe I should ask him if he wants to me leave. But I don't have time to formulate the question before his manners return.

"Coffee?" He asks as if he didn't just have a moment.

"No. I'm a tea person."

"Tea it is then," he says furrowing his brow.

"Now as to why you're here? You tell me, why you're here."

"I was invited." He chuckles and his warmth has returned.

"Fair point. Well made," he says pouring hot water for my tea and I grab an English tea bag from the selection of teas. Then he pushes a plate of pastries towards to me, before pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"No thank you, Jose is picking me up for lunch and I want to save my appetite."

"Anastasia, one muffin wouldn't hurt. But I won't push. After all, you're not mine." He takes a sip of his coffee leaving the random statement to hang out there and I'm very close to asking where does one sign up to be yours? But I'm not that bold. "Since you brought him up, tell me about the Photographer, your boyfriend," he says sarcastically and I'm taken aback by his tone.

"It's pretty complicated."

"Try me. I think I can figure it out," he smirks and it's clear he's not Jose's biggest fan. As a result, he's not that supportive of our relationship.

"Jose and I became fast friends when I started WSU and along with Kate we were the three stooges. Then after some encouragement from Kate, lots actually, I finally gave into Jose's constant prodding and took a stab at being in a romantic relationship with him."

"I see. How has that worked out for you?" His sarcasm is wearing thin and I want to explore more about where the hostility is stemming from but I'm not that invested. So I continue despite his poor attitude

"Smarty pants, I don't have much to compare it to if you must know. He's my first and only boyfriend, but I think our strong friendship made it easier for us to transition to our new found relationship. We're comfortable with each other." It's not exactly the truth, I struggle in our relationship. But I refuse to admit this to him considering the bug he has up him but about Jose.

"I'm not a hearts and flowers kind a guy, but I know it when I see it. And you Ms. Steel said a whole lot of words to say nothing. There was nothing romantic in your words, so I think it safe to say it's not working out." The disdain in his voice is palpable and I'm in disbelief at his callousness.

"You've come to that conclusion about my relationship based on one sentence and a ten minute conversation. I don't recall seeing Relationship Counselor on the list of your many accomplishments." I say sarcastically and I'm more upset than I first thought.

"Anastasia, they were your words describing your relationship so don't be angry with me for pointing out the obvious. I've made billions of dollars because I have the uncanny ability to in very short time, point out flaws where they exist."

"Good for you, but that's business. What about your personal life? Do you have a girlfriend?

"No. I don't do the girlfriend thing."

"So that's it? You get to give me the third degree about my relationship and I don't get to the do the same. What a hypocrite.

"I can't disagree with you there, but what I really want to talk about is you. Specifically what happened that night?" The smugness is gone and now he looks pained. And I want to comfort him but I don't think he would allow it.

"I didn't stay at your parents long after you left. The case worker took me back to the group home and the next morning I was placed with a Foster family. The first of many as it turned out. "

"Really?" He's surprised by my revelation

"Yeah, my stay usually didn't last long. Either they hated me or I hated them or sometimes both."

"I couldn't see anyone hating you, you were adorable? I mean you still are, but then you had these luscious curls and eyes to die for so how anyone could not be enamored by you is unconceivable?" I'm touched that he remembered so much about me from that night

"Be that as it may, but being adorable will only get you so far in the Foster Care system, especially if you're a girl." I sigh and he looks at me warily.

"Anastasia. Did anyone hurt you?" He asks putting his hand under my chin to lift my face up to meet his and I jerk my face away.

"Stop it. Don't look at me like that. I'm not broken. I'm not a victim," I snarl as I jump up from the sofa. He looks horrified, but I don't let it deter me, I'm on a roll. "I've worked too long to lose those labels so I'm not going to let you put me back in that box, to make yourself feel better. I'm not that little girl that needs you to put her back together like you did that night. I'm graduating next year with a Bachelor's degree and a Master's degree. Proof that I'm strong and a survivor so don't look at me like I'm broken. I don't need fixing. So if that's why you brought me here Mr. Grey, I can leave" Fuming, my eyes nervously roam the room searching for something, anything.

"You're right you don't need fixing. You appear to be an accomplished young woman and I'm very proud of you." He says as he finally stands.

"And you don't have to be condescending either." I snap.

"I'm not being condescending. Your anger is misplaced. Sit back down and let's continue talking." Tentatively he puts his hands on my shoulders leading me back to the sofa. When we're seated, he runs a hand over his chin.

"This is the first time, I've allowed myself to actually have this conversation with someone outside of my Therapist. But I think it's time I do and who better than you. That night I didn't walk out because I didn't want to be there, I did because I couldn't. I was the broken one and you fixed me. You probably did more for me than I ever did for you. It's public record so you may already know, but I'm adopted. My parents adopted me when I was about 14 after my birth mother died. And before you get all teary-eyed about it, don't. My birth mother wasn't exactly mother of the year material, but that's a story for another day. Unfortunately, when it came to birth mothers we were on the same receiving line" He pauses to gives me a reassuring smile, but it's useless I can see his sadness. It mirrors mine. The words play around in my head as I look at the perfect man who I thought had the perfect life.

"Can I ask you a question before you continue?"

"Of course. Go ahead." I see his trepidation.

"Did you spend time in Foster Care?"

"No. Fortunately I did not. Grace and Carrick were there for me immediately, picking me up from the hospital soon after my mother's death."

"Oh. That's good. You were lucky," I say and I can't keep my voice from breaking.

"Are you going to tell me about it? Did someone hurt you in one of those homes? And I'm not asking because I want to fix you. I'm asking because I care. You've been on my mind constantly since that night with your safety at the top of the list, so I need to know," he says and I see the sincerity in his eyes.

"It's a tough question. It wasn't so much physical as it was mental abuse. When you're a kid, it's tough living in fear. It was difficult for me to find a stable home. Being saddled with the label of a probable sexual abuse victim made it more difficult. Women didn't want me around their husbands or sons because they didn't trust me and the men because they didn't trust being around me." I pause to give him time to speak, but I change my mind, I need to get through this before I lose my nerves.

"But Ana…" I interrupt him.

"No Christian please let me finish before I can't. I know what you're about to ask, but I don't want to talk about it." Reluctantly he acquiesces and I continue. "As I was saying it was difficult to find a good home and feel safe in one. So after a couple of years of bouncing from home to home, with the help of some friends I ran away from my last home. The kids were older than me so they took care me, they took great care of me actually. I will admit the first week of being homeless was scary and uncertain but ironically I felt more secure in that environment than any of the foster homes. They were all super, but one in particular became like family, she was more of a mother to me than my own mother ever was. She protected me and kept me safe." I take a sip of tea. My throat is dry from all the talking. When I set the cup down, Christian refills it with scolding hot water. He takes advantage of the break to get a word in.

"Thank God for that young woman," he says clinking his cup with mine. "Where is she now?"

"She travels a lot and I don't get to see her as much as I use too but she's still a big part of my life. Next to Kate she's my best friend. She's my family."

"What is her name?"

"Lulu."

"Lulu, that an unusual name. Especially for a grown woman."

"Maybe, but it's all I've ever called her."

"Well it doesn't matter, I'm just thankful to her for taking care of you when I couldn't."

"Christian you were a beacon of light in a world of darkness and you did more for me than I could ever put into words," I whisper.

"I disagree. I should have done more. But at the time I wasn't capable. I was fucked up beyond belief. My introduction into the Grey household wasn't without its challenges, but by the time of that Gala it was heading in the right direction. However, for reasons I can't quite explain, I wasn't ready to fully embrace the Grey name. So I hung on to my birth mother's name much longer than I should have and only change to Grey because of you. So in essence you're responsible for Christian Grey." I let out an audible gasp.

"Christian." I'm only able to get his name out as I fight back tears.

"Now it's my turn. Don't you cry for me," he says and he hands me a linen handkerchief. I take it and dab at my eyes. "Now that you're privy to my name change, you can use that as a defense with Katherine."

"Yeah that, thanks for reminding me." I hang my head in shame, as I ring the handkerchief mercifully. "Let me apologize for my behavior."

"Nonsense, Katherine overstepped."

"Speaking of Kate she's disappointed that you cancelled the meeting. In spite of what you saw, Kate's a good person and she…"

"Anastasia let me save you the speech. Katherine was able to get an interview and photo shoot out of me, that's more than Professional Journalists can claim. So the meeting was an added bonus for her and that's all I'm going to say on the topic." His statement is cryptic, but I think I can read between the lines. The thought of Kate and Christian together makes me want to lose my tea.

"Are you okay Anastasia? You look ill."

"Yes, I'm fine. My mind just went somewhere it shouldn't have."

"Really. Want to share?" His tone is salacious.

"No." I sink my teeth in my bottom lip as I get entranced by his lips as I follow his mug to his mouth.

"See something you like?" He asks huskily as he sets the cup on the table

"You're incorrigible." And I reach for a pillow to toss at him. Anxious, I rake my teeth over my bottom lip as I pick up my teacup with the now scolding hot tea for another sip.

"Anastasia, I'm going to kiss you now," he announces in the middle of his lean.

His declaration stops the cup's progression to my lips, and a lump forms at the base of my throat as I swallow way too hard trying to take in the tempestuous words. His arm stirs a slight breeze when he moves it to the back of the sofa. Or maybe it's wishful thinking on my part that it's the air I so badly need to calm my skin that's being consumed by flame burning just beneath the surface. By the time he reaches around with his other hand to take the cup from where it has paused at my lips, I can almost taste him. In anticipation of what's to come, my breathing picks up, as his lips replaces the cup. And simultaneously he cautiously places the cup of scolding beverage on the table. I put up no objections, it would be futile anyway because secretly this is why I am here. The answer to his earlier question.

His lips are billowy soft and at first the kiss is tender, tentative even, but like a funnel cloud forming it changes and I'm pulled deeper into his vortex. It feels forbidden as the kiss becomes explosive, heated, and charged as he takes my breath away with each swirl of his tongue against mine. Cupping my head at the nape Christian controls the kiss, it is raw and potent enough to destroy me. Yet I feel more gloriously alive than I ever have and I don't want it to ever stop. Feverishly he fists at my hair at the nape of my neck, and I can feel the tie holding it in place slipping inch by inch as it travels the distance with his long fingers. In the the position, with his hand cupping the back of head I can feel the weight of Christian's body as I'm being lowered to the sofa. The veil of long blond hair unfurls to my back and I'm falling, slowly falling, wonderfully falling and I hear it. A phone. My phone.

Discombobulated, I bring myself upward as I scramble out of Christian's embrace to find the phone.

"Jose," I answer guiltily as I scram in search of privacy and space to think

When the call ends, I hug the phone to my chest falling back against the wall. Out of sorts, I try to make some sense out of whatever that was…An out of body experience is the only explanation. I've never been kissed like that and I doubt I ever will again. I take a few precious seconds more to center myself before re-entering his space. Also, I use the time to restore my ponytail. A very wise decision on my part to bring an extra band.

Oxygen restored to my brain, I slowly make my way back to face Christian. As I round the corner, I see him. He's perfectly still and selfishly I don't want to disturb him so I can soak him in. I cross my arms over my chest to quietly observe, as he stands at the giant window taking in the Portland skyline. His back is to me, feet are wide apart and his hands are stuffed in his pockets; the pose is dominating, confident and sexy as all get out. Even from behind he's a masterpiece and with the oversized window acting double duty as a frame he's picture perfect. Sensing my presence, he turns and his beautiful face is troubled, mirroring how I feel inside.

"Anastasia. I didn't see you there," he says as he starts walking towards me. When he's closed the distance between us, he rest his hands on my crossed arms. "That shouldn't have happened. It was a mistake." The words are the exact sentiment I've been tossing around in my head, but hearing him voice them hurts.

"Jose will be here in a few minutes, so I should get my stuff and head downstairs," I say nonchalantly deciding his statement isn't deserving of a response.

But the truth is, I don't think I'm capable of responding without crying and I refuse to let him see me cry over this…I want to leave here with some of my pride intact. Indecision on his face, Christian stares deeply into my eyes as if he's longing to say something but he doesn't.

"Okay then," I sigh and I move my arms breaking our connection. And I'm unable to hide my frustration. "I should get my jacket." I've only taken a few steps before my phone rings again.

"That was Jose. Apparently he is having car trouble and is stuck on the freeway so he's going to be late," I inform Christian as I see him cautiously walking up to me.

"In that case, you can stay here longer?"

"No. I think it's best that I wait for him in the lobby."

It's still early so there isn't much of a crowd in the lobby, which makes finding a booth in the bar easy. Christian puts a hand on the spine of back to lead me to our seat and I want to protest, but I would only be punishing myself.

The flirty waitress brings our drink and she can't help fawning over Christian. I don't blame her. Our drinks in hand, we clink glasses as Christian gives a toast that feels hollow because I'm still sad. Drinks in hand, we retreat back into our respective booth seat, and we pick up our conversation at a safe place in our talk avoiding the elephant sitting in the middle of the table.

"So Anastasia tell me what happened after you reunited with your Stepfather."

"Hmm. Let's see. In school, I was an overachiever, mainly because some young man who didn't know me and didn't have to believe in me… Did." Though I was still upset, I couldn't pass up an opportunity to let him know how appreciative I am for everything he did for me that night. But when our eyes lock, I immediately forgive him for his latest transgression. "Anyway, my grades were off the charts. That's why in a few months I will be graduating with dual degrees."

"Quite the accomplishment and I'm very impressed. Thank you for being so generous, but you give me too much credit. Your success is all because of you." And he raises his wine glass to me, before taking a sip.

"Thank you. But you were very instrumental in my success. I know it was only a couple of hours at most, but they were the most impactful two hours of my life. I don't think I can put into word how profound of an effect you had on me. I remember everything important about that night, from the song you sang to the words you spoke."

"Again I'm impressed. I can't believe you remembered what I said you were so young. Here's to beauty and brains." He raises his glass for another toast. "I guess we were good for each other."

"How so?

"I already told you, but I did leave something out. Warning, I freely admit this may sound crazy and a little creepy. I've dreamed of you every night and every day. Your eyes were a constant presence in my dreams. I'm overjoyed, but I'm finding it hard to believe that you're actually sitting in front of me."

"That's not crazy. It's touching." My voice is thick with emotion and I have to struggle to keep it from breaking. So I take a sip of my water.

"Don't cry. You know I hate to see you cry."

"I won't," I say and I take another sip of water. "I have a confession for you and this may actually be crazy. I have a keepsake box filled with mementos from that night." I pause.

"That's not crazy."

"Well since that night I've been obsessed with the name 'Christian' and I've done some pretty wild things because of it."

"Now that's crazy." We start laughing and any lingering tension between us dissipates.

"Your laughter is infectious and I hate to ruin the mood. But I'm confused. Why didn't you stay with you stepfather instead of going into the Foster Care system?

"I'm not sure I understand it myself. But basically my mother left Ray and took me with her as she went from one loser to the next. Over time, he lost track of us until someone contacted him which made it possible for us to be reunited. Interestingly, later I learned that it was Lulu who was instrumental in making it happen."

"Well, this Lulu is quite the young woman. She sounds like someone I should have at GEH."

Yes, she's remarkable woman. Actually she's not that much older than me, she's probably your age. People think we're sisters, when they see us together. That is until I colored my hair." His eyebrows lift.

"Now it makes sense."

"What?"

"Your hair color. Why it's blond and not brunette, I mean." At the same time, our eyes lock on Jose outside the hotel and we get quiet.

He extends his hand the short distance across the table and instinctively my body leans in waiting for his touch. Softly he cups the side of my face and with the pad of his thumb he lightly grazes my bottom lip. I close my eyes and my heart flutters.

"The same is true now as it was then. You raise the ordinary to extraordinary," he whispers and I feel his hand lifting from my face and I want to cry out no. It is maddening how this man can get my synapses firing with subtle touches. Reluctantly, I peel my eyes open and I see that Jose is quickly encroaching upon us.

"Hi sweetheart," Jose says leaning down to give me a peck on my forehead and I know it's more for Christian's benefit than mine.

"Mr. Rodriguez thank you for lending me your girlfriend for a few hours," he says when he stands to shake Jose's hand. "Anastasia takes care," he says nonchalantly, nodding his head in my direction. "Now if you two will excuse me I have some things that need my attention." And with purpose he confidently strides from the table to the elevator.

I'm conflicted watching him walk away in a similar fashion to that fateful night. I want to drop Jose's hand and chase after him, but sensibility prevails. How can I fall in love with someone after one kiss, it's not rational. Nothing about this day is rational- Nothing has ever been rational about me and Christian.

Unbeknownst to Jose, I'm focused on Christian at the elevator and my eyes immediately zoom in on the numbers as they light up one after another. It is reminiscent of the iconic scene from 'The Bridges of Madison County." Meryl's Streep's character is stuck in a pick truck with her oblivious husband behind Clinton Eastwood's character, as they wait for the traffic light to change. They fell in love after a forbidden affair that only spanned one long weekend. She grips the door handle of the truck as she grapples with opening the door to run to Clinton Eastwood's Character, who is the love of her life or stay with her husband out of loyalty. The scene is made more dramatic by the cinematography. The downpour of rain is symbolic of her inner turmoil and the tears she cannot shed because of the presence of her husband. And the panning from the traffic light to her white knuckling the door signifies her realization that there's only a limited amount of time before her lover is lost to her forever. He's leaving town to never return and it's serendipitous that they ended up a the light at the same time giving her one last opportunity to grasp that elusive ring…love. That scene gets me every time and on cue I hear the ping of the elevator and watch as Christian walks in. I follow his every step until the door closes.

And ironically now I'm living it.

**AN **

**Please note my depiction of the foster care system is not based in fact is to move the story. **

**I hope the meeting was worth the build-up and I hope you enjoyed it. If you did please review.**


	5. Chapter 5: The Aftermath

Chapter: 5 The Aftermath

**A/N:** Thank you for reading and reviewing. Warning: Talk of assault in the chapter in case you're sensitive.

Per the suggestion of a reviewer I changed the title of the story to **Fifty Shades You're My Angel** from I'm Fifty Shades So Are you

**Disclaimer:** Fifty Shades of Grey belongs to EL James

In what can only be described as slow motion, I watch as the steel doors slide to a close. They held my attention captive to the very end. If this was going to be the last time, I wanted to take in every inch of Christian. I'd be damned if my memory of him would ever be challenged again.

"Ana," Jose calls to me, forcing me to turn away from the shiny steel box.

Just as well, by now the elevator had begun its gradual ascend, taking with it the man who has a hold of my heart. He's so all encompassing, I had forgotten I was standing next to the boy who presumes to have my heart. A fallacy we both know. However, we've perpetrated the lie for so long it's logical to believe that he's forgotten the truth, but I haven't.

"Are you ready to go?" Jose ask, and I put on a fake smile masking my true feeling of despair and like the dutiful girlfriend, I let him take my hand in his.

As we walk through the spacious conjoined lobby and bar, I am amazed at the crowd that has congregated and is moving about with purpose. Naturally some are registered guests of the hotel, others patrons of the bar/restaurant, yet others visitors to the visitors. Either way I wondered how they all gathered so quickly filling the space to near capacity, and I'd not noticed until now. Was I so engrossed in Christian that I became unawares of my surrounding? I guess the answer to my rhetorical question is a resounding yes because when we came down not too long ago it was nearly desolate. Now look at it. In his presence, everything and everyone fade to black, for me. And despite my wariness, a small smile sneaks up on me.

Pausing for a beat, I can't help but let my eyes roam as I take it all in. Two young women are giggling uncontrollably as they reach for each other, are the first to catch my attention. My gaze continues to pan, landing on a group of men sitting at the bar having a lively discussion about something on Sports Center. I can see the large monitor, but the barmaid is in the middle of changing the channel. Regardless, it's the young couple hidden away in a quiet nook of the lobby that is grabbing my attention and holding it. They are sharing a very tender moment, and I almost feel like an interloper for eavesdropping on the intimate scene, but I can't look away. Not until Jose lightly jerks on my hand to get me to move that I'm able to stop burning a hole into the couple with my heated gaze.

The walk to the car takes far longer than necessary. My gawking and slow, calculated steps slowed us down. There were times Jose had to practically drag me to get me to move my feet. The truth is; I don't much feel like moving at all. When what I want to do is lay down right here, right now on the concrete of the parking lot, crawl up in a ball and surrender to the ache that threatens to engulf me.

But it's not an option, so I force myself to climb through the opened car door where I lazily plop down on my side. I let my head loll, and it finds its resting place against the window once Jose closes the passenger side door. Walking to his of the side of the car, leisurely Jose gets in behind the wheel joining me. As soon as, the engine revs to life he starts jabbering on and on about something or another. It could be important, but it might as well be white noise it's so grating to my ear. Enveloped in sadness, wistfully I watch the scenery pass us by as Jose drives a route I'm all too familiar with, but today is very unfamiliar.

As Jose continues with his excessive talking, I eye him dubiously as I discern what's gotten into him. He's been acting out of character since Christian entered the picture this morning. First getting into a pissing match with Christian, then acting like a Neanderthal with me and now channeling Chatty Cathy. Be that as it may, he can't be that obtuse as not to notice my gloomy disposition, I haven't even attempted to participate in the conversation. Perhaps Christian's brutal assessment of our relationship was on point; not that I needed his opinion. I'd known it from the outset but went along to get along, but I don't know if I can continue to sacrifice my feelings for his. Burrowing my head against the cold window, I close my eyes, as I've been to the mountain top, continues looping in my head. Dr. King's mountain's top is far more spiritual in nature so it's probably sacrilegious of me to even make the analogy. But the line is so appropriate for today, is why it's stuck in my head like an earworm. Christian is the pinnacle; so much so, I doubt I can ever go back to being that girl for the boy sitting on the seat next to me.

"Good call." Jose throws up two thumbs. "Ordering the pizza from the car was smart," he continues, as he chews the last bite of his fifth slice of pizza. Meanwhile, I'm staring blankly at a plate with one slice I've barely eaten. I gave it the old college try, but two bites were all I could manage…My appetite has taken a hiatus.

"Thanks, but I can't take credit. It's a Kate ideal. She likes to order from the road if we're together so the takeout can be ready for us by the time we get home. Patience isn't her best virtue," I say jokingly trying to lighten my mood. Using the sofa as leverage, I rest my elbows on the edge to push up from the floor to my feet.

"Yes. I know very well. By the way, I think she was out of line at the photo shoot. Do you want to talk about it now?"

"Let me get this cleaned up first," I say as I start collecting our dirty dishes.

"Sure, let me help," Jose says as he gets up to join me.

"Tell you what, I'll take care of the dishes if you take care of the recycling?" Staring him to recycling, guarantees me some alone time in the kitchen and I can't make it there fast enough.

I'm reveling in the solitude; this is the first time I've been alone since Jose picked me up from the Heath man. My hands grip the edge of the sink cupping it for support so I can stay upright, as I think of him. I can't help it he has invaded my every pore, and he's in my blood. Love and hate may be at the opposite ends of the human experience, but they both have the ability to destroy in equal measures if not handled properly. Our hearts should come stamped with a warning label- handle with care.

Flushed, I can almost feel his lips on mine and my body starts tingling all over. Frustrated that I can't get the full effect, I reverse my position on the sink to where it's my back now leaning against the edge. And I move a hand to my lips pressing my fingers on all the spots he kissed. Closing my eyes, I slowly let my fingertips retrace his motions and the path his tongue and fingers took over my mouth. Disappointingly reliving the moment isn't the same as the real thing…not even close. Exasperated, I push away from the sink, put on a stock smile and reluctantly drag my butt back to the other room to Jose.

The further I walk, I can see that Jose has practically rearranged the furniture. Pushing the coffee table to the other side of the room from in front of the sofa, and I look at him questioningly.

"I hope you don't mind? I thought we'd stay on the floor for the discussion too, so I moved the coffee table to give us more space. But if you don't like it, I could move it back, and we can talk on the sofa," he says apologetically.

"No Jose you're good. It's fine. Perfect actually." I see his shoulders visibly relax, and I toe-off my converse making myself more comfortable before I take my seat next to him on the area rug covering the floor.

On the drive over, I made the decision to give Jose the cliff note version of this is my life. After the emotional rollercoaster I've been on with Christian, I don't have in me for a deeper dive. For the first time, I'm thankful that Jose is not Christian because he's listening intently without any interruptions; I've yet to hear one ", please explains". However, I am confused and surprised he's not asking follow-up questions now that the discussion has turn to Christian; after all, it's what precipitated the need for this darn talk in the first place. He all but accosted me at the photo shoot demanding to know more, and now he's sits before me quiet as a lamb. He's confusing me, but I'm not going to look a proverbial gift horse in the mouth. I'm going to take it as a sign that I can plow right through and quickly wrap this puppy up.

"That's it. That's my story," I say when I come to the end. Reaching back, I fumble getting the bottle of water from the sofa side table, as I try to gauge Jose's reaction. He was expressionless during the entire discussion, so I have no reason to believe he has one. I'll give him give him an A for his listening skills, admittedly, I would have appreciated at least one amen for encouragement. I take a large gulp of water and fiddle with the almost empty bottle, as I wait for Jose…I want to give him the benefit of the doubt, but his silence is driving me bonkers.

"Ana, that's quite the story. The more I learn about you, the more in awe I become!" At first he grazes my fingers then he grabs my hand and with his thumb starts sweetly rubbing small circles on the back. But something is off, his touch doesn't feel right. So politely I pull my hand back trying not to be too obvious. But Jose picks up on it. "Wow Ana, I can't touch you?" I try coming up with a quick response, but I stumble all over it. "Don't worry you don't have to answer," he says and I feel horrible. However, he doesn't appear to be that offended and onward he soldiers. "You went through a lot and I can't imagine being in your shoes. Considering everything you've been through, you've pretty much come out the other side unscathed." I can feel my nostrils flaring, and I'm certain my face is a deep shade of red. I can't believe Jose went there. It's irrational I know, but I'm sensitive to such broad assessments. I think people throw around these platitudes because they don't want to invest the time necessary to discover a truth that does not fit their narrative.

To the outside world, I'm sure I look well adjusted. After all I live in a nice apartment in a nice neighborhood driving a relatively nice car for a college student, attending a very nice University and finally I'm on the road to graduating with multiple degrees. But that's the problem with the outside world they're not on the inside. So they don't see the tears that flow just because they can. They don't see the internal struggles of a young girl who inwardly craves for her mother. But outwardly stakes a position of disdain, in order, not to break because when given a choice the same mother chose a man over her. No, they don't see any of it. Not the fear that comes from realizing you're safer on the streets than with a roof over your head in foster care. Or the feelings of worthlessness, self-doubt, and sadness that follows you because of your fractured past.

No, they don't know my truth, but Jose sure does. Yes, I rose above it and chose not to wear it like a badge of honor around my neck, but I'm far from unscathed.

"Jose, I can't believe you. You of all people should know better. How many nights have I cried on your shoulders? Resilient maybe. But not unscathed. But if I appear that way, I deserve the Academy Award," I say defiantly

"Ana, I was giving you a compliment. You can pipe down. Your past was more harrowing than I first thought. And I don't know if I was in the same position if I could've made it through with as much poise as you. I didn't mean any disrespect. Honestly, I don't understand how you can get so upset over a compliment." He sighs "Look. Thank you. I'm sure it was tough especially since you didn't plan for it, but I'm glad you shared. I'm happy to have more insight about your mother; now I have a better understanding of the hostility you feel towards to her." He gives me a sympathetic smile before picking up his bottle of beer that he set on the floor next to him.

I mentally kick myself for reacting so defensively towards Jose; he made some valid points. My overreaction can mean only one thing, the day is starting to take a toll on me. But it's nothing that a hot shower and some comfy PJ can't cure. So I'll need to get rid of Jose, which means I'll have to break it to Jose gently because he's looks ready to stay all night or at least until Kate comes home. First I feel compelled to address his statement about my mother.

"Yes my mother is a piece of work, but the older I get, the more I'm learning to make peace with her."

"Why haven't you shared this part of your past with me before now?" And without touching my skin, he takes his hand remove some loose tendrils from my face to behind my ear. Meanwhile, I mull over his question for which I wasn't prepared to answer. "Does Kate know?" Jose moves to a second question before I can respond to the first. So taking a deep breath, I give it a go at both.

"Jose." I pause to carefully craft what I'm going to say next. The truth is, I never felt the need or the desire to tell him more, and I'm afraid the revelation may hurt. Unlike most of the meat heads on campus, Jose is on the sensitive side. A quality that attracted me to him in the first place. "Jose as you know, I'm not that close to many people; you, Kate, and Lulu pretty much round out my crew. And my past isn't exactly filled with gumdrops and sugar cookies, so I'm not too keen on sharing it with people. I can't believe you would ask, but yes Kate knows. It's impossible keeping anything from her." My attempt at levity falls flat, and as I suspected, it hurts Jose. I can see it etched on his face, but the lines are too broad and too deep to be just about this.

"I get that Kate knows; you guys are like sisters. But lumping me in the other people category, hurts." He balls up his mouth taking a short pause "I'm not other people, I'm your boyfriend. I think that should rate me a little higher don't you?" He kicks his feet at an imaginary table forgetting he pushed the real one to the other side. Laughing menacingly, he slowly shifts to face me, "I've been patient. Very patient I might add. I've done everything you've asked of me. I've not pushed. Excepting any scrap of your time, you tossed my way. Hell, we've been dating for nearly a year, and I can count on one hand the number of times we've actually kissed. I mean really kiss. The way a boy kisses his girlfriend. Sex." He blows out a puff of air, as he runs a hand over his head to his back, "it has never been on the table, but like your lap dog I didn't push. It's almost comedic when I think about it. If it wasn't for accidentally brushing up against your boobs, I doubt I would've ever felt them. And the only time I've been close to your pussy, is on the rare occasion we've slow danced." He's baring his soul, bringing to light his version of our relationship and the only thing I can focus on his use of the P word. Be that as it may, Jose is unfazed, so I don't think an apology is coming, in fact, he looks to gearing up for more.

"And how do you reward my patience?" I brace myself for what's coming. I think I know, but I don't want to give anything away. "You let him touch you." Now it's out there, and I want to hide my shame but there's now where to hide. "Imagine how I felt looking across the crowded hotel lobby only to see my girlfriend lost in another man." His voice is quiet and calm, but I can hear his emotion; anger, pain, and disappointment. And it's the disappointment that slays me.

"Jose," Remorsefully I call to him as if saying his name is an apology.

"Don't, you can't explain the unexplainable. I know what I saw. If a picture is worth a thousand words, it was clear. You want him. In one morning, he got from you, what I've patiently waited for all these years." His voice breaks and my feelings of guilt is overwhelming. "To be wanted by you. Forget the love that was too lofty-being wanted was love enough." I see tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, but they don't fall.

"Jose I'm curious. If this has been eating at you, why have you been pretending that everything is okay whole time? Behaving like it's a typical day and things between us is normal?"

"It's not a pretense. For me, everything is normal. Yes, it killed me, but to admit is to admit defeat, and I'm not ready to lose you. I will always take your crumbs. Because, you are still the girl I fell in love with that first day of registration. I remember it like it was yesterday. It devastated me when you told me you were only 14. The girl I fell in love with, at first sight, was 14 and with good conscious I could not pursue her. So even then I settled. I settled with being your best friend knowing I always wanted more."

"Great. I didn't know being my friend was a joke to you." I snip, affronted by his revelation. I didn't know how right I was, our friendship is a mirage. Now it's my turn to be upset.

"Ana you're twisting my words. It was the only way to be around you that was morally and legally appropriate. You can't be angry with me for that?"

"Did Kate know about your little plan?" I hiss

"No. Please. Kate would have kicked my ass. She was wary of any guy that tried to hit on you in those days. In fact she still is come to think of it," he chuckles but it's a nervous chuckle.

"Oh," I say relieved that she wasn't part of the betrayal.

"You're missing the point and gone off on a tangent." There's a pregnant pause. "He's going to hurt you Ana," he blurts out. "Whatever you think happened with him today, is just a flash in the pan for the man. He's Christian Grey for goodness sake. The most eligible bachelor in the country if not the world. He could have any woman he wants. So realistically do you think he's going to go for a virginal, teenager from WSU?" Livid, I immediately make to jump to my feet, but Jose is too quick grabbing me by my wrist keeping me in my place. "I'm not trying to be mean; I want to spare your feelings. I know the two of you have a past. But that's all it is - The past. I'm your future," he says wholeheartedly. And catching me off guard, he has me lying on my back with my arms pinned above my head as he straddles me with his legs at either side of my hips. I didn't have time to mount a defense.

"Give me a chance," he breathes, as he lowers his face to mine forcing my mouth open with his tongue, in spite of my protest, ramming it down my throat.

"Jose Rodriguez," I scream at him as I struggle to find a way to wipe his taste and spit from my lips when he finally removes his mouth from mine. I thrash about the little I can, considering that he has me forcibly restrained on the floor with his body. I so want to free my hands, to wipe away his bad memory from my lips before it overtakes Christian's. And as I'm about to yell at him again, Jose imprisons my mouth in another one of his sloppy, disgusting kisses.

His kissing is becoming more frenetic as he sucks my tongue, slops wildly at my mouth, as his heavy panting sends my body into high alert. My heart starts beating hard and fast against my chest, and I'm sure Jose can feel it he's pressed so close to my body.

Fortunately, I get some much-needed relief, as I feel the weight of his body lifting off mine, and I can finally get some air in my lungs. "I know I can make you forget about him," Jose whispers against my lips and for the first time I notice his breath. I've never had reasons to before now. It's too warm on my skin and smells of cheap beer, pizza, and fury.

"Jose, please stop. You're scaring me. This isn't funny." I try reasoning with him, but he ignores my plea lowering the full weight of his body on me again as he resumes assaulting my mouth -This time alternating between my neck and my ear. I feel like I've fallen into the abyss and can't get out.

The friction from his body grinding against mine is causing my t-shirt to lift fractionally, exposing the skin at my belly. Meanwhile, the water is leaving my eyes in slow, warm trickles and in his current state of carnality Jose has the audacity to kiss my cheeks to dry them when he's causing them. Jose has morphed into a monster I don't recognize, but probably had a hand in creating. I have no doubt; he's reacting to what he witnessed at the Heath man. But my introspection has to wait, right now I have to find a way to get us both out of this predicament.

Jose running his fingers along my exposed skin around the edge of my jeans causes a shiver down my spine, but it creates the opening I've been praying for, and I have a moment of clarity. I rationed that if he's touching me there, he can't be gripping my wrist, leaving it free. So simultaneously I bring the free arm forward walloping him in the head at the same time bucking my hips with as much force as I can muster causing Jose to lose his balance toppling to one side. Which gives me the room I need to escape and I jump to my feet?

Standing, I rest a hand on my chest and bend over heaving as I try to catch my breath. In my position, I see Jose sitting on the floor with this back resting on the edge of the sofa and his knees up to his chest with his face buried in his hands. His shoulders are shaking uncontrollably, and I can hear the sobs. I know he has regret and remorse about his deplorable actions; the monster is gone and my kind, sensitive Jose has returned. But is it too little too late?

"Get out," I scream at him at the top of my lungs as I point to the door and I have my answer.

"Ana. Please, I'm so sorry." His voice trembles as his shoulders continue to shake. But I'm all tapped out, I have no pity left for him.

"Sorry. Sorry. You think that's all it will take. Do you know what you just put me through? It's unconscionable Jose considering what I just shared with you," I spit out at him

"I know. I just got so caught up in seeing you with him," he stutters.

"Don't you dare? This has nothing to do with Christian." I have to pause giving the air time to build up in my lungs. "Or me for that matter. I get it. I hurt you. But that is no excuse for what you just did." I sniffle. "It was disgusting." Sniffle. "Not to mention horrifying." I'm wrestling with what I'm going to say next. Can I say the R word? Can I think the R word? Saying it would make me a victim and Jose a criminal and those labels don't fit either one of us. "And I don't know if I can ever forgive you." In the end I couldn't say it, the word dies before it even gets to my tongue.

"Ana please don't say that."

"Really Jose? I could say so much worse. This could've been so much worse," I seethe. "Tell me Jose, if I hadn't had the wherewithal to get away from you, would you have stopped?" And it frightens me when I see his expression, and it frightens him too. He doesn't have to say a word, the look in his eyes, says it all. He doesn't know.

And I'm that 8-year-old little girl all over again

"Ana, please don't cry."

"Don't. You. Dare. Touch. Me." I jerk my arm away from him when he tries to grab hold of my elbow. Jose is delusional if he thinks I will ever let him touch me again.

"Ana. Just…" He runs his hand through his dark hair. "I just wanted to comfort you."

"Comfort me." I scoff. "Are you serious? I'm like this because of you." I wrap my arms around my body to hug myself. With his head down and in defeat, he starts heading in the vicinity of the door. And I step aside.

"I'll call you later."

"No, we're through."

"Don't say that. I'll give you a couple of days. I'll give you some space."

"I don't need space. We're over. We were over before this. This just cements it for me."

"When I got up this morning we were fine. Then enters one billionaire. And puff, we're over. That doesn't make any sense."

"Seriously. Really. Attacking me doesn't make any sense. You blaming Christian for the demise of a relationship that was a fraud in the beginning doesn't make any sense. You and I being in the relationship in the first place didn't make any sense. So let's start making some sense and put an end to this sham." I say sarcastically, but I'm hot.

"I love you and I'm so sorry. Please tell me you forgive me. At least take a few days before you completely cut me out of your life." From where I'm standing I can see the tear stains on his face, and I can hear the sincerity in his voice. Add to it my complicity in this whole fiasco, and I decide to put forgiveness back on the table. But forgetting will never be an option for me.

"Okay Jose, give me a couple of days," I say in hopes of bringing an end to the back and forth. I can see an immediate change in his posture.

"I'll call you in a few days." I don't respond and watch him leave the apartment with a newfound exuberance.

My eyes follow his every step until the door closes behind him. And I walk so fast to the already closed door, I nearly trip over the coffee table in my wake forgetting it was there. Nervously, I try to get my fingers to work as I fumble with the lock, finally getting the telltale clicking noise when it finds its rightful position. And swiftly I turn to the front of the room resting my back against the now locked and secured door taking in the view of the apartment that has lost some its warmth. My knees quivers and I succumb to my emotions as I curse Jose for bringing fear to my doorstep.

"So where's the poor fool?" Kate asks as she eyes me speculatively on the sofa. One ear bud ensconced in my ear; the Econ book is balancing vicariously on my knees, and the sheets of paper I used to jot down notes are strewn on the floor next to the sofa. Taking my readers by the frame, slowly I bring them down the bridge of my nose clapping the book close tilting my head back in exasperation.

"Don't ask," I say sarcastically over the $5 wire-rimmed spectacles.

"Let me get rid of this stuff and you can tell me what the poor sap has done now." Keeping her laser-like focus on me, she promptly sets her briefcase, purse, and jacket on the table at the front door. As she heads in my direction, like a cracker- jack novice investigative reporter she searches my face for clues. "Make some room," she says patting my legs encouraging me to move them, so maintaining my current position I hustle further up the sofa on the armrest bringing my legs up with me. And Kate quickly occupies the vacant spot and simultaneously reach for my earbuds. "What are you listening too? JT?"

"No. Some Nicki Minaj, Rihanna and Eminem."

"That bad huh?"

"Where do I begin?" And I remove the readers altogether, reach behind me to set both them and the book on the side table. Coiling the earbuds, I stuff them between the sofa cushions next to the iPhone and take a deep breath as I prepare to give Kate the rundown of what transpired with Jose.

"Fuck, Ana are you serious? Your next statement better starts with 'Oh yeah' ending with, 'and he's in jail." She's irate, and her Irish eyes blaze the darkest shade of green I've ever seen.

"Kate calm down. Of course, he's not in jail," I say as I instinctively lean over to grab my ankles.

"What do you mean calm down and of course not? And why are you so calm by the way?" She rests a hand on one of the wrist at my ankles. "Are you unaware of the national conversation going on about rape on college campuses? She asks incredulously gently squeezing the wrist she's holding.

"Very. I don't live under a rock." I tilt my head to one side and roll my eyes at her. "I'm well aware of the national discourse, but this was different…It is…"

"Stop right there." She removes her hand holding it up interrupting me. "I think I know what you're going to say. Do not blame yourself. I warn you." She stares me down. "Did you say no?" She hisses

"Yes," I. admit and release my ankles falling back against the armrest.

"Bam. There you go; it's not different." She takes hold of my pajamas clad legs bringing them over her lap as she rests her hands on top. "If you said no and he didn't stop on a dime its rape. In this case attempted rape. Look Jose is my friend too or was." She rolls her eyes up in her head. "But that doesn't change his actions." Her voice breaks and she clears her throat as she struggles to continue. "And I know you don't want to think of him in that way. But the act is what it is Sweetie." And she gently rubs my legs up and down as I fight back the tears pricking at my eyes.

"Listen Kate there's more to the story." Guilt-ridden, I share with her what Jose saw at the Heath man in hopes of putting the ordeal into context. At the same time, I walk an invisible tightrope as I also try to downplay what Jose witnessed.

"Ana, I get it. You feel guilty for betraying Jose's trust and under different circumstances we could have that debate. But it doesn't fly in this case; blaming yourself is akin to the tried and true tactics defense attorneys use blaming the victim. This isn't about the clothes, it never is, and all about his actions, which it always should be." She rests her forearm on my legs essentially stilling me. "Look at me." She urges and I bring my head up to meet her gaze. Her features have soften, but she remains steadfast. "I know this is taking you to a place you don't want to go. But here's the thing you're not that little girl, and you're not alone. You are a strong young woman capable of doing something about it this time." The tears come too quickly this time, and she can't stop them. Soon they are streaking down her face. I lean over for her hands, and our fingers can barely reach, but we manage to get a grip. So with our conjoined fingers locked in place, we cling to each to other. However; I keep the waterworks in check because if they start again, I don't know if they will ever stop.

"I appreciate how protective you are of me and I love you for it. But I know the difference between genuine evil and a lapse in judgment. Jose had a lapse in judgment." I swallow. "I fervently believe he didn't have any intentions of hurting me, he snapped for a lack of a better word. So there's no need for getting campus police involved. He has to live with this, and that will be punishment enough for him."

"I can tell you've made up your mind." She gives me a reassuring smile, but I can tell she's not pleased with my decision.

"More importantly I don't see Jose as a risk to anyone else. Otherwise, I would be down at the police station so fast." Kate sighs as she contemplates everything I've said.

"Okay. I trust you. If you say, you're fine. And you think Jose had some kind of psychotic break that won't happen again." She gives my knees one last hard pat. "Then I'll let it drop." We share a resigned smile, a pinky swear between best girlfriends. "I need a drink. You want one?" She grabs my legs lifting them so she can stand.

"No," I say tilting my head backward as she walks behind me on her way to the kitchen. When she's gone, I bring my knees up squeezing them tightly to my chest as I rest the side of my face on them to consider all that has happened today.

She means well, and I can't let on how much this has really impacted me. I've been here before, and I'm smart enough to know tomorrow will be worse than today. Until she mentioned it, I hadn't let myself go down that road, it's too dark and I can't risk going off course. I've worked too hard to find a place in my head that keeps me from self-destructing. I'm as damaged as the next person; I just hide it better by overcompensate and over-performing in everything I do. People think I'm a brainiac, but my education prowess is all about self- preservation. I'd known my explanation was rubbish, an attempt to not only protect Jose, but me too. Jose, because of the guilt over the role I might have played in his madness. And me because I don't want to be anybody's victim ever again.

"Here you go," Kate says giving me the flute of sparkling water. "I know you said no, but I thought you could use it," she says taking a sip of the white wine in her flute. "And I hate to drink alone," she smirks.

"Thank you." And I take a big gulp of the chilled liquid. "You're right I needed it." I flash her a smile, but it doesn't go anywhere.

"Let's change gear," she says excitingly and she retakes her seat on the sofa. "So I take it things went well with Mr. Grey. When are you seeing him again?"

"Hmm. Never."

"You can't be serious. Jose didn't lose his mind over never. So come clean," she says as she runs a finger over the rim of her wine glass.

"What? There's nothing more. We had a very pleasant talk and parted ways on a positive note, but with no plans for seeing each other again."

"Umm, I find that odd. Though it wound me deeply, I could've sworn he was into you, and I'm usually not wrong about these things. And it doesn't make sense, when I think about what Jose said he saw. Oh well. At least you'll see him at graduation, he's the keynote speaker." She gives me a knowing smile. "Got your attention huh?" She smirks as she takes another sip of wine.

"No. I'd just forgotten about it," I say trying to play it off.

"Well, kiddo you're lucky I'm exhausted. I'm too tired to bust your balls about the handsome and sexy bastard." She the turns the glass up to her lips to get the last bit of wine. "So I'm heading to bed and counting the number of ways I'm going to kick Jose's ass." And I nudge her with my feet.

"Katherine."

"You know Ana. You're too good for your own good. He better counts his blessings that it was you he tried this shit on. If it were me, he would be minus a dick right now. And I wouldn't bother with cutting it off either." Standing and very demonstratively, she demonstrates for me how she would've twisted off Jose's penis with a very intense wringing motion of her hands. "See that? That's how I would make his ass pay." And nonchalantly she stalks out of the living room leaving me quaking in fear and concerned for Jose's well-being.

"Alright Lorena Bobbitt, I don't want to pick you up from Campus Police," I joke as I scream out behind her.

I remained in the living room about an hour after Kate relocated to her bedroom to plot her revenge on Jose because I wanted to get more work done on my report. It does my heart good to know I have such a supportive friend, even if she's a bit demented. Kate isn't everyone's cup of tea. She can be like a bull in a china shop, but you won't find a more devoted person in the world.

It's because of her protectiveness that she's so bothered by this. But I can't let Kate pull me into her battle. I could possibly win the battle, but I know I would lose the war. As it is, it's already threatening to overshadow what I've shared with Christian. I'm struggling to hold on to our moment because when I close my eyes it's not Christian I see but Jose. As a result, I'm afraid to go to sleep because I can't be assured who it will be that will visit my dreams.

Reaching under my bed I pull out the worn keepsake box in hopes of tipping the scale in Christian's favor. It's a discarded cigar box that Lulu helped me fashion into a keepsake box, and it's my security blanket. When I need a warm hug, I pull it out. Tucking my legs, under my body, I carefully inspect the lid, tracing every weathered letter that was meticulously carved by digging into the cardboard box with an ink pen. It is so old and worn the grooves making up the letters are no longer white but various shades of ecru and brown. The discoloration only serves to give the words more character; raising the ordinary to the extraordinary it reads. Hearing him say the exact words only hours earlier has breathed new life into them. They are no longer an inspiration for a young girl, but the promise of what could be for the young woman she has become.

Lifting the lid, for the thousandth time I inspect the contents. Words to Angel downloaded from the internet; the dried rose Christian stuck in my hair, and a piece of metal I found on the ground that night. Holding the metal in my hand, I'm reminded why I picked it up in the first place. It was a stand in for steel. These worn pieces of artifacts represent the best part of my past and running into Christian reminded me why I've kept them all these years.

Exhausted, my eyes are becoming too heavy to keep open so I won't be able to avoid sleep much longer. Picking up the iPhone Kate handed down to me, I take a look at the time and making out 2.59 am on the screens is a shock to my system. So I nix plans for an early morning run and toss the phone on the bed.

"Hey, Ana." I pause in the doorway. "Did he call?" I hold my breath for a moment before responding.

"No, Kate he did not." My tone is clip. "By the way." I rest my hands against the doorframe turning my body so I can make eye contact with her as she sits at the table in the kitchen drinking her coffee. "We didn't exchange numbers. He didn't even ask. So there, that's that." I sigh "Your theory is out the window," I say sarcastically

"Ana Steel for some kind of whiz kid you can certainly be dumb sometimes. The man is a billionaire, not to mention a top benefactor of WSU. So getting your number would hardly pose a problem for him," She smirks.

"Bye" And I push off the door frame to scurry to the living room for my backpack, rather than admit to Kate that she may have a point.

"A tall tea, bag out please," I tell the barista.

Thankfully, I am nearing the end of my day. Once I get through this Study Group, I'm done. We're meeting at Starbucks because they have a community room and Nick the leader works here. So my tea in hand, I walk back to the community room blowing on the hot liquid as I go but stopping short of the door when I spot only Nick Gleeson through the glass. Nick is fairly smart, but he's also a lecher that goes out of his way to inflict his brand of lechery on me. Slowly stepping back, I decide to wait on the others.

Soon Paul Clayton shows up, and we take the opportunity to compare our schedules. I work at Clayton's, a store owned by his family, and sometimes we work the same shift, a fact that excites Paul far more than it does me. He uses the time to court me.

The irony isn't lost on me that I hung back hiding from Nick and Paul ends up putting the moves on me. However, unlike Nick, Paul's approach is more subtle and gentlemanly. Still I'm happy to see the rest of the group show up and one by one we file into the cramped space. Nick takes his place at the head of the group going down his list confirming that he has all our assignments correct. The primary assignment for the group is "Evaluating the Young Entrepreneurs of Today and Their Impact on Society Today, Tomorrow and Beyond". Under that umbrella, we will each evaluate an Entrepreneur and of course I chose Christian, but that was before Saturday. As Nick continues down the list, my phone rings, and I fumble to get it out of my pocket. It's a number I don't recognize, but not wanting to miss a call regarding the Fellowship at Harvard I apologize and under irritated glares I quickly exit the room.

"Hello," I answer eagerly and breathing way too hard.

"Anastasia. It's Christian Grey."

CPOV

"Is everything okay sir?" Taylor asks as soon as I step out the elevator, and he takes in my befuddled state.

"Fine," I snap. "Get Stephen on the phone. Alert him to get Charlie Tango ready, my plans have changed. I won't be staying in Portland after all. I need to make a few calls, but I should be ready to leave in a few hours.", A hand in my pocket, I bark the orders at him as he walks with me the relative short distance to my suite door.

"Yes sir," he acquiesces leaving me to my own demise and I stick the magnetic card in opening the door to the suite. Without her in it, all of sudden the space feels too big and an ominously quiet.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I don't know what the fuck that was, but I can go the rest of my life if I never felt it again. It has me out of sorts, and I do out of sorts; that's how people lose their edge. I pride myself on my control, but in one morning she has done the unthinkable, rattled me.

I need to get into see Flynn right away; maybe he can help me make sense out of this clusterfuck. So I'll add him to the list, first I need to set the wheels in motion to destroy everyone in the fucking Foster Care system that failed Anastasia. No first I need a stiff drink, I think as I eye the mini bar.

The glass of warm amber liquid burns going down, and it's exactly what I needed. Too bad it can't sear the tawdry thoughts clouding my brain about one little blonde. Fuck me, blondes are a hard limit for me. I run my hands through my hair, and snatch the iPhone from the mini bar where I laid it.

"Barney."

"Yes Mr. Grey," he stutters. It's been four fucking years, and he's still nervous about me. If he weren't a fucking genius and so good at his damn job, I'd fire him for his awkwardness. Today it's particularly aggravating.

"I need you to find the names of all people that had dealings with an Anastasia Steel while she was in Foster Care. I estimate that it's about a span of 4 to 5 years."

"Sir I'm not sure of your intentions, but you're aware that tapping into Government Computers is a Federal offense. There could be jail time if caught. And..."

"Then don't get fucking caught," I seethe interrupting him.

"Okay. But you also know this is a massive undertaking…" I interrupt his blabbering again. I don't need excuses, I need action.

"Listen Barney, I pay you a lot of fucking money not to worry about these minor details. Because when I want something done, I want it done. Period. And let me assure you have should be concerned, my intentions are less than honorable and highly suspect. So let me repeat don't get caught." My voice is low and menacing and I can feel Barney trembling on the other end of the phone even if I can't see it.

"Yes, sir. Considering the amount of information I will be combing through, realistically I can have the report ready in a couple of weeks."

"No. Two days max." And I disconnect the call.

Now on to Andria so she can schedule an appointment with Flynn for Monday morning. I know its Saturday, but I don't give a fuck. My staff is compensated very well to be available to me 24/7. So I'll interrupt her weekend and not give it a second thought. Because at the end of the month, in her savings account she will receive more money than some people make in a year, hell two years. So if she wants to go find a 9 to 5 job with 9 to 5 money, she can have at it.

"Call Flynn, and get me an appointment for Monday at 8:00 am." My voice is terse and I hear Andria sigh which only to serves to infuriate me more. "Sorry to wake you Andria," I say sarcastically, but my tone is all business.

"Sorry, sir. I was just frustrated because my pen ran out ink."

"The GEH ink pen?" I ask speculatively. The pen is a Montblanc Meisterstuck Le Grand Diamond Fountain Pen, Platinum trim that I gave the top Executives for Christmas last year on behalf of GEH. So I'm doubtful about problems with the pen.

"No, sir. That one I keep locked up at GEH." She's quick to point out, picking up on my tone that I'm less than pleased. "It's one from my home office." She continues to clarify. At the end of the day, I don't give a shit about the pen, I can afford to buy millions more. I'm in a foul mood and anything anyone says is not sitting well with me.

I don't even know why I bothered to have her get me an appointment with the good Dr., he's beholding to the mighty dollar too. The truth is, I could show up at his office and he'd see me regardless of his availability. If Flynn, were with another patient, he would simply step away to see me. And if he were out of the office he'd drop what he's doing to race back. It's good to me I smirk to myself as I pour another drink.

It's amazing what throwing your weight around will do for the old attitude, especially when the weight is measured in billions, not pounds. With each call, I regained some of, the control I unwittingly relented to Anastasia. I'm bewitched by her, but I'm confident that I know the crux of my problem and it's time to do something about it. A sub that's the answer. I haven't had one in months; hence, no sex which explains my lusting over a young woman that can only be described as a poisonous fruit.

I have no business having these lascivious thoughts about her, but the memory of her blond hair like spun silk through my fingers alone makes it almost too impossible to resist her. Almost, is the keyword, clearly I want the girl but there's no earthly way I see it happening. Anastasia Steel tied up in my playroom will only live in my mind. There are too many obstacles to name, but primary among them is our unlucky first meeting. Unfortunate because, it's hindering me from acting on the indecent thoughts I have of the alluring young woman that has fortuitously found her way back into my life. Just thinking the tawdry thoughts are making me feel perverted. Short of falling on my knees and begging the man above for forgiveness, I need to find a way to cleanse my mind.

And I think I know the trick, I'll focus on her as she was that night. Thick brown curls like chocolate tuiles, skin like a porcelain doll with blue marble eyes to match and not to mention frilly white socks. The trick might have worked. If I'd not seen with my own eyes the way her svelte body curves in all the right places. The way her perfectly round ass bounces when she walked and tasted her taste when I kissed her lips for the first time. I've seen it, felt it and there's no undo button. I'd tell by the way she was dressed she was unaware of her effect on men, unlike Katherine, who tried too hard, Anastasia captured the imagination with her simplicity and understated beauty.

Fuck me, I need Elena on the phone right now. A few hours with a Sub in my playroom that will do the trick for sure. By the end of the evening, I'd have fucked her out of my system. Damn, if a mousy little coed is going to get the better of me.

"Christian darling," she purrs. I get her perfected exaggerated sex kitten shtick is a way for her to preserve the last vestige of her youth. And ordinarily I'd play along. But today it's doing the exact opposite; she sounds old and tired.

"Elena you can lose the voice. It's wasted on me."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, someone is in a mood. And I know exactly what you need." I run my hand through my hair to keep from reaching a hand for her through the phone to strangle the bitch.

"So do I and it's not you," I snarl. "So you can stop the innuendo. What I need is a sub and I want one at Escala by Monday at 5 pm" She sighs. "You got a problem Elena?"

"No darling, never. It is short notice, but rest assured I'll make it happened. I gave you a couple of options a few weeks ago. But Christian dear you waited so long one of them found a Dom. But as luck would have it, I spoke with Susanna the other day and she's available. At least she was two days ago."

"Susanna. Isn't she a friend of Leila's? I'm not interested in a sub who was or is friendly with a former sub."

"I don't think so but I will confirm for you."

"You know what it doesn't matter. She's no longer a fit. My requirements have changed".

"Please enlighten me," she says sarcastically. Elena knows me better that anyone and since ending our contract I've had the same type. But it's a new day.

"She must be a blonde."

Stay tuned for the next installment.


	6. Chapter 6: Coping Together Again

Chapter:6 Coping Together Part 2

**Disclaimer: **Fifty Shades of Grey belongs to EL James

Thank you for reading and following my take on our favorite story.

Covering the phone with one hand I step to the side from in front of the glass door out of the view of the study group, and giddily I go into a happy dance.

"Anastasia. Are you still there?" I can hear what sounds like shuffling in the background, but I can't be guaranteed that she's still on the line.

"Yes. Sorry about that. I'm with a study group at a Starbucks and it's pretty noisy so I was searching for a quiet place to take the call." I squeeze my eyes close, distorting my face as I mentally kick myself for coming up with such a lame response.

"From what I know of Starbucks that would make it the restroom." I'm not buying her explanation, so I decide to have some fun at her expense. Listening to her breathing pattern, I think I have some idea what she was up to and I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me happy as hell. "So are you in the restroom Anastasia?" I imagine her face a deep shade of red.

Ugh, he's toying with me, but I'm not going to be such an easy target this time. "And what if I am?" Boo-yah, take that. Mentally I hi-five myself on my sassy comeback, but when I hear his low chuckle, I know my celebration was premature.

"I'd say the easier for you to clean up when we're done." It's not fair he's too good at this. But I can't engage him in a battle of innuendos. In a few minutes, I will be walking in back in front of a group of co-eds and the last thing I want is to look as if I was participating in a session of phone sex. Speaking of said group, I need to get back.

"Christian, I'm going to need to get back to my study group." I come to the conclusion that the only way for me to win the battle of innuendo with Christian Grey is to disengage.

"By all means Ms. Steel, I'll be quick." I can't decide if "quick" is meant to be a double entendre or should I get my mind out the gutter and take the statement at face value. After all, I highly doubt that Christian Grey is a minute man. "As I suspected my mother was beyond excited when I told her about our fortuitous meeting, so she is anxious to see you with her own eyes. And as luck would have it, The Coping Together Gala is at the end of the week so she would like for you to attend. It would be a full circle moment."

"Oh my God. I would love to. Thank her for me please."

"Your presence will be thanks enough."

"It's Saturday, right? I can..."

"Anastasia," he says interrupting me.

"No. It's on a Thursday this year. In the past, it was on a Saturday, but my parents have been experimenting with the day. Does it pose a problem for you?"

"Well..." I pause to rethink what I'm about to say. "You know what, I'm still good to go. I can rearrange my schedule. Aside from seeing your mother again, it'll be great to see kids from the center.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you. But the kids from the center no longer attend the Gala. Your group was the last, it was too emotional for my mother" Suddenly the mood turns serious. I can really be a Debbie Downer sometimes. I need to liven things up again. I prefer playful Christian to somber Christian.

"Still I'm excited." Okay, that might have been too much livening up, too much pitch in the voice. "By the way Christian, how did you get my number?" In the spur of the moment, I decide to change tactic and throw him a softball question. And almost immediately it works, because I can feel the smirk on his face if can't see it.

"Let me remind you, of the Ways and Means Committee. I have the means. And people find a way. And sometimes I'm a committee of one, with the means and the ways. Anything else you would like to know?" He is cocky and I know I set it in motion, but I would love to knock the smugness out of his voice.

"No. I think you answered my question pretty thoroughly." Kate was right. She's always right. I hate her too.

"Now that we have that settled, I will see you on Thursday. I'm surprised you didn't ask, but Katherine is invited. It isn't my preference, but I had a sneaking feeling you two traveled in pairs. However, perhaps my assumption was just that an assumption."

"No, you were right. I didn't ask because I thought it was a given."

"Ms. Steele." I sense the call coming to an end and all I can do is call her name in hopes of prolonging it.

"Mr. Grey. I'll see you Thursday." Is all she says and my cock twitches. A Thursday has never held so much promise.

Normally, I'm the one to end a call because I have to have the last word. But with Anastasia, it's the exact opposite, I could listen to her voice forever. That's it. I'll record it when she comes to the Gala.

I toss the phone on the desk in my home office. What a dumb fucking idea. What am I'm 15? How does this woman manage to make me feel like a bumbling, snotty nose idiot? I'm fucking Barney around her, maybe now I'll give the poor sap a break. Leaning back in my chair, I cover my eyes with my forearm. The reason I needed tonight so badly and it turn out to be a colossal failure. Sadie just didn't do it for me. Sure she was pretty of the face with a body made for Playboy. But as soon as she stepped out of the elevator and I saw her blonde hair, I'd known I'd made a mistake. I hadn't developed a sudden fondness for blondes, I was attracted to one blonde.

Against my better judgement, I took her on as sub right then and there. But after taking her to my playroom and turning her ass a beautiful shade of red and fucking her just once I ended the contract and sent the young woman on her way. I'd known better, after ending my contract with Elena for the second time I'd only been with one other blonde, Samra Chatsworth.

Samra was my second attempt at a relationship outside of BDSM. On paper, she was my perfect match, the alpha female to my alpha male. She was very successful in her own right, working as a Senior Vice President for one of the leading Hedge Fund Management firms in the country. This was a big deal on two fronts, she was a woman and she was young. But Samra Chatsworth wasn't any young woman, she was nonsense and once you got to know her you understood how she moved up the ranks so quickly. She was the epitome of beauty and brains, with a healthy heaping of cojones added in for good measure. And that was our downfall. We gave it a good go until I was forced to come to terms with two truths; I wanted a woman who was not only submissive in the bedroom but outside and I had a penchant for brunettes.

Granted Sam was more than willing to dabble in BDSM; she found the punishment to be a turn on. But once we crossed the threshold of the playroom she drew a line in the sand making sure I knew where her submission ended. During our time together, Sam never knew I was a Dom. She chalked up my interest in the lifestyle simply as a way for me to indulge my kinky side. Something she wouldn't begrudge me, because in her words "I earned it", after everything I had accomplished. And to her the playroom was an extension of the kinkiness that manifested itself in an over the top show of testosterone and money.

At the end of the day, what she knows or doesn't know isn't of concern to me. She signed an air tight NDA and she knows I will destroy her and anyone close to her if she divulges anything about her time with me. But I don't have to worry about Sam, she's smart and unlike with my former subs, I've remained friendly with her. Primarily because we travel in the same social and professional circles.

The problem that concerns me at the moment is the edge that remains because the blonde bombshell didn't stamp it out. And based on the time registering on my watch it's almost too late to do anything about it that doesn't involve my hand. Sure I could call Elena to get Susannah over, but I don't want to deal with Elena and her inquiring mind. My other option is a club and I haven't been to one of those since I was 21 and I'm not too keen on using one now. After all, that's why I built my own playroom. Fuck, running my hands through my hair isn't helping. I'm no closer to a decision.

I hold my mother responsible for this mess. By the time I'd made back to Seattle, my sense of order had been restored and my control was intact. The flight over in Charlie Tango had served to put much-needed distance between Anastasia and me, literally and figuratively. And I'd known what my mother's reaction would be to the information, yet I called her soon as I arrived at Escala. To say she was elated, isn't descriptive enough. The woman called my pilot, demanding not asking that he get my helicopter ready for a flight to Portland. And when he refused on account that Charlie Tango was in for maintenance she didn't stop there, she made the leap to the GEH jet forcing Stephen to get me on the phone. So on a heated three-way call with an irate Grace Trevelyan Grey and a trembling pilot, I had to make the trek to my parents'. Only when it was abundantly clear that Stephen and I were not going to settle the crazy woman dressed in my mother's clothing, did my father intervene. And it was only when he smartly suggest the upcoming Gala, as the perfect venue for the meeting did my mother have mercy on Stephen and me. Thus fast forward to tonight and my predicament; head spinning and dick throbbing from a simple call with the quiet storm thrusting me into uncharted territory. The one doing the lusting. Fuck this, I've got my answer.

"Taylor. Get the car ready we're going out."

"Ana, look at this thing," Kate says as she ooh and awe at the interior of the limousine Christian sent for us as if it's her first time in one.

"Kate, please. You of all people should not be impressed. Your family utilize limousines all the time."

"Yes, but I've never seen one this decked out. It's like a chariot coming to whisk you away to the ball; the only things missing are the horses and the gold filigree on the doors," she smirks. "But I'll take the hunk behind the wheel in lieu of the horses." And like a groupie she leans forward peers through the privacy glass, bobbing and weaving her head as she tries to get another look at Reynolds behind the steering wheel. "Where does he get these security men? 1-800 dial a hunk," she quips bringing her focus back to me as she cracks up at her own joke.

"I don't know. But I have to agree, so far they've been good looking," I admit.

"So what does the note say?" She asks as she tries to snatch it out of my hands. I have to put the hand with the note above my head to keep it out of her reach at the same time balancing the Harry and David basket on steroid on my lap.

"No," I say giggling at her adolescent behavior.

"If I can't see it, read the damn thing. Even if it's filled with debauchery," she says in a sinister voice rubbing her palms together.

"Really. Debauchery." And I wrinkle my brows at her.

"What can I say? It was a word of the day." She shrugs. "And liked it so shoot me. But not until you read the damn note." And she tries to take me by surprise and lunges for it. However, I telegraph the move and get the note behind my back before she can reach it.

"Chill Kate. I'm going to read it." I tilt my head bringing my hands from behind my back.

_Anastasia,_

_The ride to Seattle will be long, so here are some treats for you to enjoy. And I'm confident you did not eat breakfast so it will provide you needed sustenance. Sorry Charlie Tango was..._

"Sorry to interrupt. But what's or who is Charlie Tango?"

"His Helicopter."

"Oh. Excuse me. I'm sorry his helicopter," she says mockingly and I roll my eyes at her. "Rich Bastard." And she falls back into the plush seat of the limousine. "And control freak," she adds when jumps back up.

"Kate, you're from a wealthy family. Why are you carrying on so ridiculously? I'm the poor mouse."

"Yes my daddy is rich, but he's not Richie Rich rich." She grabs for the oversized basket and I let her take it. Relieved to have my lap free.

"Please take it and let me finish the note you begged me to read." I shake the note as if it's a sheet of paper and not card stock before I continue to read.

_Sorry, Charlie Tango was not available. Hopefully, the limousine meets your satisfaction. Again eat you have a long day and night ahead of you. Finally share the goodies with Katherine. _

_Christian Grey_

"Here you can have this back," she says handing the basket to me. "The only goodies Katherine wants to share in is some Prosecco and the other goodies of the liquid kind in that well stocked mini bar."

"Kate its 9 am."

"Yeah," she says holding up the chilled bottle and a flute. "Don't blame me. Blame him. If he didn't intend for us to have the alcohol he wouldn't have stocked the mini bar so abundantly and tastefully," she says as she pours her first glass and makes a show of sipping the beverage.

"Okay, Missy go ahead. Don't blame me when you get drunk," I say reaching for the Pierre.

"Don't you worry about me I can handle my liquor. Besides, I gotta feeling before the night is over you will need some of this too." She holds up her flute to me. "Get ready for the ride Cinderella." And she tilts the flute to her lips tossing the rest of it back.

"Here you go," she says snatching the note from the bouquet of more than 12 roses of all color and variety greeting us as we enter the palatial suite. "And it begins," she smirks as she hands the note to me and my eyes go into a familiar position of late and if I keep it up they're going to get stuck there. Grabbing the card from her hand I read it while she continues further into the well-appointed space taking in everything as she goes.

_Anastasia,_

_Welcome to Seattle. Roses aren't very original, but I thought they suited your name. I hope you find the suite to your liking, if not please contact Andria immediately. The master bedroom is set aside for you so please don't let Katherine take it. Caroline Acton and Franco will be arriving at 3 pm to help you and Katherine get ready for the Gala. Finally, I won't be able to meet you at my parents something came up at work. My brother Elliot will do the honors. I will see you at the Gala. Order whatever you want, it's all on me._

_Christian Grey_

"Kate," I call to her with the note still in my hand.

"Yes."

"He wants me to have the master," I say apologetically

"Of course he does," she says sarcastically.

After settling in we decide to have a light lunch in the suite. Kate needed food to help soak up all the alcohol she drank and I was finally hungry after only nibbling on some of the whatnots in the gift basket.

"So what do you think of all of this? I know you and this is not your style," Kate says digging into her salad of pears, gorgonzola and candied walnut. I ordered a salad too. Mine has orange and grapefruit slices with slivered almonds.

"It's overwhelming, but I can do it for a weekend. I'll go back to being a peasant on Monday."

"Speaking of returning to the real world, I wonder if we're going back in the limousine or Charlie Tango." With gusto, she stabs her fork in her salad for emphasis. She couldn't resist a Charlie Tango reference.

"I don't know Kate. You can ask Christian tonight," I say peering over at her and she looks pensive.

"Are you going to tell him how old you are?" Startled by the question, I put down my fork.

"Where did that come from?"

"And while we're at, are you going to tell him you're a virgin?" Instead of answering my question, she adds another. This one more personal than the last.

"Well, Kate seeing that none of those things are relevant to the Gala, my answer would have to be no. And no," I say and nervously I pull at the band holding my ponytail in place.

"Ana let's get real. Why do you think he invited you?"

"His mother invited me. If it were up to Christian, I doubt I would be here right now. I'd be seeing him at the WSU graduation only."

"Keep telling yourself that. The tricked out limo, this suite, hair and wardrobe. Please. You can't be that naïve not to see what's up."

"Maybe I am, so tell me what's up." I sweep the hair that's now loose up in a bun on top of my head holding it in place with my hand.

"Let me spell it out for you. He's not doing all of this for his mother. Trust me he has an expectation of something in return. Look I know you've probably not been in this situation before, after all, you were with loser Jose." And she waves a hand at me. "I digress. He's a discussion for later. Back to hunky CEO. What I'm alluding to is the boy code. When a guy buys a girl dinner, he expects her to put out. The same principle applies here. The only difference, he has more money to play with. So you better be prepared to answer those tough questions."

I move the hand holding my hair in place on the top of my head as I think of how much I want to share with Kate. Let's be honest I want to sleep with Christian, but I'm not sure he's that into me as Kate thinks. What Jose said keeps ringing in my head as true, that I was nothing more than a flash in the pan for Christian? Kate has asked some valid questions, the same ones I've asked myself but I've yet to come up with the answers.

"If I am to believe what people say about me, it's a forgone conclusion. Everyone thinks I'm much younger than my 17 years anyway, so it's reasonable to believe that Christian sees me the same way; therefore, it's probably not necessary for me to broadcast it. As for my virginity, that's on an as needed basis."

"Fair enough. I mentioned Jose so can we talk about him for 30 seconds before putting him to rest?"

"Sure. At this point I think he's a safer bet than Christian. What do you have on your mind?"

"You. I'm not happy that you talked to him. And I know what you're hiding on your neck. There's that everything I have on my chest. Now I can enjoy myself."

"Really now. I didn't see you having a problem enjoying yourself when you were knocking back those drinks in the limo," I tease her and Kate sticks her tongue out at me. "Grow up Katherine, you're acting like a 17-year-old." Then she starts throwing lettuce my way. "That's so much more mature," I say dodging the small greens. "Do you want me to answer you or are you going to keep throwing food at me?" And I pick up a leaf to throw at her.

"Okay, we're even now," she squeals putting her hand up to block her face.

"Geeze, Kate it's just a lettuce leaf, not a stone. Anyways, back to Jose. I took his call because I promised him I would. But I set him straight about us ever getting together again. He did fill me in on your conversation with him and he's pretty bum about losing both of us as friends."

"He's lucky that's all he's lost. While he disgusts me, I have to admit I felt sorry for him when I saw him the other day. He looked like a dejected puppy. Don't get me wrong it serves him right. I still believe he should be in jail."

"Yeah, Paul Clayton mentioned something to me about Jose's demeanor as he tried to get the scoop."

"I'm sure he did. He wants in your pants."

"Does everything have to lead back to my pants?"

"Yes."

Standing behind me with my hair in his hands, Franco contemplates what to do next and I want to say welcome to my nightmare.

"I see the dark roots so what do you say we take your hair back to the natural color?" He asks tilting his head down to look in my face to gauge my reaction I guess.

"Franco anything you want to do with my hair is fine with me."

"Perfect. With your skin tone I think darker is better. The blonde is washing you out. The dark color will make you look more mature and I gotta feeling you will want to look mature." He winks. "Don't worry, you'll keep your youthful exuberance, but more refined."

About two hours later my hair is returned to better than its natural glory, the brunette locks are shining like a L'Oréal commercial causing me again to question why I went blonde? More importantly why I kept the color all these years?

"I take it you like it."

"I love it," I say as I continue to inspect the tresses in the mirror and I spot Kate walking into the room with two dresses in her hand. She's wearing a beautiful green number that is sheer on the top.

"Kate I like your dress, but I'm surprised you chose the color."

"Yeah green isn't a color I would normally gravitate too, but it's an Elie Saab original. If the billionaire is springing, I'm going to take full advantage. There are some off the rack dresses, but I can buy those myself. My father would never approve of me spending this much money on one dress or twenty for that matter," she says twirling to give us a better look. Kate is so in her element that she's forgotten that I'm clueless about designers. If it's not from the Gap or Target forget it. I have no clue who Elie Saab is.

"I'm sorry Franco, please forgive her. My friend is more gracious than she's letting on."

"Honey please." He waves a hand at me. "I don't blame her. I'd do the same thing. I've known Mr. Grey for years, he takes pride in indulging people. So I'm not going to let you disappoint the man. I'm going to help you spend his money," he says proudly. "Miss Kate you can take those dresses back to Caroline, I going in another direction with Anastasia."

When Franco is done with me, I don't recognize the girl in the mirror. It really feels like I'm in a fairytale the transformation is so dramatic.

"What do you think?"

"I love it. You're a magician."

"No, sweetie. It was all you. You were a jewel that just needed a little shining. Let me walk through what we did. We just added product to your naturally wavy hair, deciding to go with a tamed version of the messy do. A youthful twist to those formal dated styles of the bun, chignon and behind the ear on one side. However, to show off earrings we did tuck the hairs loosely behind both ears. For your makeup, we kept the foundation light because your skin is flawless. We gave you a smoky eye but took it down a notch, because we didn't want to overpower the eyes. And because your eyes are so enticing we wanted to keep the lips natural with a hint of color. So we went with a peach lip ala Jennifer Lopez. As for the dress. The dress mama." He steps back to admire his masterpiece. "Hmmm, what can I say you are wearing this dress? I knew this Alexander McQueen number was the one. It's edgy, youthful and sexy without trying. Like you. Perfecto." He puts his fingers to his lips when he says it. "The wet sequin fabric is hugging your insane body without being restrictive. As a result, it doesn't need a slit for ease of movement or for a show. Not giving it a slit is genius because it adds to the allure. It hints at what's beneath without revealing any of it. The high neckline that mimics a mock turtleneck is also a genius design choice. And just so happened it works to hide your little secret." He lightly squeezes my shoulders and I give him a reassuring smile. "Finally leaving it sleeveless and going with a dark navy blue color keeps it from looking like an Elvira costume." Just as he's finishing up his long winded explanation, a well-dressed man walks in handing Franco a small black box. Stepping aside he waits for Franco to open it.

"What's going on?" I whisper so only Franco can hear me.

"You," he says as he opens the box revealing flawless diamond tier earrings. "These are gifts of Harry Winston for the night at the request of one Mr. Christian Grey. The gentleman over there is the security man that will be your shadow. And I can't help but gasp when Franco brings the beautiful drop diamond earrings to my ears. Kate was right. Again. I am Cinderella, I'll be sad to go back to Ana at midnight.

Soon as we pull up to the winding road there's a sense of nostalgia, but no real memories of my last time taking this same path. Regrettably, the memories aren't rushing back. When we pull up to the circular driveway stopping in front of the impressive mansion, I stare in amazement. Kate's family is the only wealthy family I know so I can't help comparing everything to them and this house trumps the Kavanagh's. And by the way she's gaping, I would say Kate agrees.

"Before you make another one of your money quips. Remember this is his parents' home, not his." I lean over warning her.

To her dismay she doesn't get a chance to respond before Reynolds is opening our door and a very handsome blonde in a tux is standing next to him. Her eyes on fresh meat, Kate rushes to get out the limo before me.

"Anastasia, it's so nice to meet you. I'm Elliot." The stud says pulling Kate into a hug and shamelessly she doesn't correct him.

"Elliot, I'm Anastasia," I say as Reynolds gives me his hand helping me out of the car.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," he apologizes profusely and Kate just smiles. "My brother told me you were blonde so I..."

"So logically you assume the red head must be her," Kate say too sweetly as she interrupts Elliot

"Well, no one has ever accused me of being a genius or logical, Ms." And he picks up her hand.

"Kate Kavanagh," she blushes and Elliot gives her a peck on the hand. "Lucky you, I think geniuses are overrated." I roll my eyes, but neither notice they are too busy flirting so I'm forced to clear my throat to get any attention.

"Anastasia, you don't look anything like my mother's and brother's description," he says pulling me into a bear hug. "Come on let's go inside before my mother expires."

Sure enough, a woman that I assume is Christian's mother mobs me at the door.

"Oh sweetheart I can't believe you're here." she whispers into my hair.

"Mom let the poor girl breathe."

"Yeah mom, you're going to mess up her hair and make- up," a young woman appears joining Elliot's chorus.

"I swear Mia that's the only thing you care about." I open my eyes and behind Mrs. Grey I see a young woman sticking a tongue out at Elliot

"Very grown up," Elliot chastises.

"Quiet you two we have guests," Mrs. Grey warns as she finally releases me. "I'm sorry sweetheart from the moment Christian told me about you I've been dreaming of this moment. I'm sorry," she says when she realize Kate has been standing next to me. "Forgive my manners I'm Dr. Grace Trevelyan Grey. This one use to call me Dr. Grace." She nods her head at me.

"Kate Kavanagh. Please to meet you," Kate says taking her proffered hand.

"You've met my sons. Well, this is my daughter Mia." She formally introduces Kate and me to Mia as she's releasing me from a hug.

"You two look hot, who are you wearing?" Mia ask.

"Mia you sound like the Fashion Police," Elliot chides her.

"You wouldn't know about it, if you didn't watch the show," she smirks.

"It's okay. I think my dress is Alexander McQueen." Kate makes a hissing sound.

"Forget her, she has the fashion savvy of a turtle. Yes, her dress is Alexander McQueen and I'm in Elie Saab." Mia gasp at the information

"I hate my brother. I have on this sack and you guys are in Couture," Mia wines.

"Mia Grey. Your dress is far from a sack and cost way too much as it so stop your complaining," Dr. Grey warns. "Come on everyone lets go into the family room and wait for my husband. Mr. Grey is checking on something on the grounds. He should be back shortly."

"By the way everything looks fabulous Dr. Grey," Kate says

"Thank you. It's a lot of work, but we look forward to the Gala every year." She looks up as a server walks in with a tray of what looks to be water. "Thank you, Gretchen. Please, ladies, help yourself to some water. I've learned not to serve anything alcoholic before the Gala."

"I would love a glass," Kate says. "Good call. I hate to admit it, I had a little too much to drink in the limo."

"Yes. I'd forgotten that Christian sent a limo to pick you, ladies, up," Dr. Grey say. "That works out perfectly, you ladies can come for brunch in the morning and I'm hoping you're staying longer because I want you back for..."

"Slow down dear, you're going to scare the young ladies off." Everyone turns toward the professorial voice that's permeating the room.

"Be quiet Carrick and come meet Anastasia," Dr. Grey says.

"And Kate mom," Elliot says.

"Yes of course and Kate."

"It's okay, I'm not offended. I know this all about Ana," Kate says

"Not for everyone." I hear Elliot murmur as he leans in closer to Kate.

"Anastasia. It is such a pleasure to meet you. You have been the topic of conversation in this family of late. We didn't get a chance to meet that infamous night, but you look well," he says.

"Doesn't she? I'm so happy I can hardly stand it," Mrs. Grey sniffles.

"Mom. You need to get a grip before you mess up your makeup," Mia says.

"It's too late. But Elena promises to help touch me up," Mrs. Grey says.

"Mrs. Grey, Christian told me you stopped bringing the kids. What have you done to replace the experience for them?" I didn't mean to sound defensive, but that's how it comes across. It saddens me that kids will miss out on the opportunity.

"Interesting, I never looked at it from that angle. So I've not thought of a replacement but maybe we should?" Mrs. Grey questions.

"Never mind me, I'm just feeling sentimental," I say

"You know Anastasia I really regret that I didn't get a chance to meet you back then. We would've been fast friends," Mia says.

"Everyone, please call me Ana."

"Only if you call me Grace."

"Oh, I don't think I can do that. Maybe Dr. Grace," I say.

"Fair enough," she says.

"Ana. Christian tells me you'll be graduating with a master and a bachelor. That's quite an accomplishment," Mr. Grey says embarrassing me.

"She's too humble so I'll speak for her. She's been accepted into Harvard's Doctorial program," Kate brags and I elbow her in the side.

"Well let's drink to that." And they all lift a glass to me and I want to disappear."

"I'm sorry, but I can't believe you're in front of me," Dr. Grace says before wrapping an arm around my shoulders pulling me into her side.

"Ana you better get used to it. She's been dreaming of this moment since Saturday, "Elliot smirks.

"We should get to the tent, I see people arriving." Mr. Grey says. "Ana I think my wife wants you to stay back for a moment." I sit back down next to Dr. Grace while Mr. Grey leads everyone else out the room.

"Ana, I wanted to have some time alone with you. Christian shared a little of your past with me and to say it hurt me," she pauses taking my hand in hers, "is putting it mildly. I always saw you as our little girl. So I want you to know that we didn't give up on you, the system failed us all. I checked on you every day until they stopped giving me information. However, no one felt your loss more than Christian. You had such a positive impact on him, I will always be grateful for you. I'm confident in saying that you singled handedly put him on the right course or at least helped him better negotiate our family dynamics. Do you know the first time I was able to touch my son was that night." And her voice breaks and I see the water making its way down her cheeks.

"He hinted at his touch issues, but I'm not sure I understood the significance."

"Christian is a proud young man, but you were one special little girl. And I'm sure he didn't share this either, but Christian wanted to look for you to offer assistance with your education, but from the looks of things it wasn't needed."

"No, he didn't share. Why didn't he look?"

"I told him to let you live your life when in reality I was afraid of opening old wounds. But look at you now." And I'm pulled into yet another hug.

"Grace Grey. According to Mia, I have my work cut out for me so we better get started." She releases me when she hears a voice that to me sounds as cold as ice cubes.

"Elena please you know Mia. She exaggerates. You haven't met Anastasia," Dr. Grey says as she introduces me to a platinum blonde in a sexy black dress that's probably a little too young for her. "Anastasia Steel is very important to this family, especially to Christian." When Dr. Grace mentions Christian's name, I can almost see her claws.

"Grace, if she's so important to the family, why am I just meeting her? The cold fish ask as she eyes me speculatively.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Lincoln," I say overlooking her poor manners and if looks could kill I would be dead. Dr. Grace does not pick up on the chilly reception the woman has given me so she continues to gush about the ice queen being her dearest and oldest friend.

"Grace dear, I think we can leave out oldest."

"Nonsense Elena, you've been with me through thick and thin," she says touching the woman on her forearm. "We should get going. Ana, you'll see the group. Everyone is sitting at the same table including you and your date Elena."

My heart flutters when I eye Christian entering the opulent tent. If I thought he looked good in a suit, he's illegal in a tux. Our eyes lock and it feels like the world stops rotating and he doesn't break our connection or his strides as he makes his way to the table. And it doesn't go unnoticed that the eyes of every woman in the room are fixated on him including ones on the witch at my table.

"Anastasia. You look…Wow." He leans down whispering so only I can hear.

"I hope that's mean good," I respond back in a whisper as he takes the empty seat between Mia and me.

"Better than good," he smirks as he rests a hand on my thigh giving it a light squeeze and I feel it deep in my belly.

"Nice to see you too Christian. You know Anjelica..."

"Anastasia," Everyone at the table yells in unison interrupting the woman because they've had it with her calling me every name but my correct one.

"Am I missing something?" Christian leans over to ask and I give him a curt smile.

"Later," I say between clenched teeth.

"Sorry. Anastasia. As I was saying," she lets out a harsh breath. "She's not the only one at the table yet she's the only one Christian addressed."

"Forgive my manners. Hello everyone," Christian says and his look is impassive.

"What was that about?" I ask leaning over to him.

"Later," he says.

"Touché." And on cue the wait staff places a small salad in front of each person at the table.

The meal was delicious, I learned that Kat Kora a renowned chef donated her services. And I can't wait to see what she's serving for desert. Fortunately, the conversation flowed more smoothly and comfortably with Christian at the table, but now that dinner is winding down the group is starting to couple off to have more private conversations. Mia with her date Brad, Kate and Elliot, and reluctantly Mrs. Lincoln, with her date a young man named Javier.

With everyone in their bubbles, I try to have a conversation with Christian but he seems preoccupied. And Mrs. Lincoln doesn't help when she keeps butting in on us.

"Anastasia, I've noticed you drinking only water you don't want to swap it out for something stronger?" She asks as the server comes around with the wine.

"We overdid it in the limo..." Kate responds trying to cover for me, but the witch interrupts her.

"That hasn't stopped you, Katherine." Mrs. Lincoln purrs, as he brings her wine glass to her lips.

"Elena. If Anastasia wants to drink water whose business is it?" Christian gives what can only be described as a panty dropping smile. "Listen, everyone, I see some people I want to connect with so I'm going to step away. Make sure to donate your wallet and your conscious. Anastasia and Katherine, please enjoy the rest of your evening at the Gala." When he's standing, he leans down to speak softly so only I can care and he tells me he will cover my donation. I'm sure it wasn't his intention but I feel the coolness of his breath against the bit of exposed skin at my neck and it sends a shiver down my spine.

A few steps into his walk, Christian doubles back taking the table by surprise especially Mrs. Lincoln who can't help but follows his every step back to the table.

"It would be a disgrace if I didn't mention how beautifully you make the diamonds look." He rests a hand on the back of my seat so he's at my ear level and he's so close I half expect him to lick the shell. But he gracefully rises when he's done complimenting me. One can dream, but he's gone; as fast as, he came.

As he walks away, for the second time, I follow him and I feel like this is the constant state of being between us; me watching him walk away. Businessmen are all over the Gala and I'm watching for Christian to walk to one of them, but oh no he makes a beeline to a leggy blonde at the bar.

"Ana and Mia do you want to go with me to the bathroom?" Kate asks taking my attention away from the handsome pair.

"Thanks, but Brad and I are going to dance." And Mia's date rises leading her to the dance floor.

"I'm offended. You didn't ask me."

"Ana are you ready?" Kate asks avoiding the older woman's comment and Mrs. Lincoln gives her a nasty smirk.

"What is that Bitches problem?" Kate asks as soon as the door to the elegant porta potty closes. I didn't know such a thing existed.

"I don't know Kate."

"Forget her. Are you alright? I saw how you looked when he left."

"I'm fine."

"Good. Hang in there the night is young. That chick has nothing on you. I know her type, she's played out," she says trying to get me to smile and it works.

"You're a good friend Katherine Kavanagh." I say grabbing her by the wrist.

"I know. But let's get out of here before we get emotional."

"Or before Harry Winston's security guard storms in here for his diamonds," I say and we start giggling like school girls.

"Sam I didn't expect to see you here tonight," I say when I walk up behind her at the bar. She turns to face me and we give each other perfunctory air kisses.

"The Partners couldn't make it so they asked me to step in and seeing that I've always wanted to come, I jumped at the chance. It still angers me that, after all, my badgering you never asked me when we were in…what do you call what we were…"

"A beneficial arrangement between two consenting adults," I say interrupting her.

"Who said Prince Charming doesn't exist." Her response is swift and cutting.

"Thanks for reminding me why I ended it?" I give her one of my patent smiles.

"Yes, my balls were bigger," she says deadpan without skipping a beat and I can't hep but let out a hearty chuckle. I'd forgotten Sam's wicked sense of humor.

"Of course that's how you would see it." And I reach around taking her drink from her setting it on the bar. Dance with me." I put a hand out and she takes it for me to lead her to the dance floor. "As usual, you look lovely tonight." Resting a hand on her spine I pull her against my body into position.

"Thank you and you sir are divine," she says and we start moving as the band plays "Fly Me To The Moon". Like Elena, Sam is a fabulous dancer so we're a force to be reckoned with on the dance floor. I can almost read the headlines tomorrow "Fred Astaire has found his Ginger," with a picture of Sam and me.

Ironically during our time together, we hung out publicly but the gossip rags never suspected anything. Thinking back on it now, we never looked or behaved liked anything but business associates so why would they.

"So who's the hot little number at the table?"

"Who?"

"Don't play coy Grey it doesn't fit you. But I'll play along. The one that's just your type." And I break our frame momentarily pulling back to look in her face.

"What does that mean? You think you know me, huh?"

"Even after months of being privy to your interworld, I don't pretend to know you. You're still an enigma to me. But I do have some insights into what makes you tick and she fits the bill."

"Do tell," I say when I pull her back into hold.

"Passive with enough raw sensuality to hold your attention."

"I can tell you're proud of yourself for what you think is a spot on evaluation of the situation. I actually hate to ruin it for you, but she's a friend of the family and not in line to be the next notch on my bed post." She scoffs

"No matter how big the man's dick he still has a small brain." I pause our movement for a moment

"I beg your pardon. If that was a subtle dig at me, it was not so subtle." She squeezes my hand.

"Lead Grey or I will," she huffs and I have no doubt that she would. "If you're not picking up on the signals Cindy Lou is sending you, you're not the man I thought. I don't know your plans, but I know hers and it definitely entails you being horizontal." On cue the music ends.

"Thank you for the dance Ms. Chatsworth. "

"So am I making her jealous or am I a decoy?" Resting a hand on my arm she whispers as she stands on her tippy toes.

"You're not letting this drop are you?"

"I just want to know my role in this game of cat and mouse," she says.

"Sam, you should know better, I don't repeat myself. Thank you for the dance," And I make to move.

"Christian," she says softly, but her voice is serious this time "Be careful. Naive young women are just as manipulative."

"Thank you, Sam, but your concern is unwarranted. Come let me walk you back to the bar before I go have a few words with Paul Allen."

"I'll have what he's having." I shift to see to see Sam moseying up to the bar next to me and I hold my glass up to her.

"Your family friend has been pining away for you all night. And from the looks of it, you've been doing the same. You've spent a good part of the evening talking to businessmen you could care less about and women who mean less to you than gum on your shoes," she says.

"I choose jealously." And I down the shot before slamming the glass on the bar. "Ready to make someone jealous? Skip the drink and let's get out of here," I say as I get close enough to that spot at her ear that makes her weak in the knees.

"I thought you would never ask," she says running a long manicured nail over the back of my hand.

"You've been a bad girl Sam and you need punishing." And I move a loose tendril behind her ear.

"The worse. Bartender, never mind." She grabs at my cock, but I'm too fast.

"No. I don't want to walk through the crowd at my parents' Gala with a major hard on."

"Have it your way," she smirks.

"I plan too. Wait here while I say my goodbyes."

"It shouldn't take you too long, Cindy Lou has finally left her spot."

**A/N **Thank you and please don't to forget to review


	7. Chapter 7: Non, Je ne regrette rien

Chapter 7: Coping Together: Non Je ne regrette rien

Fifty Shades of Grey belongs to EL James

**A/N:** From the reviews, saying people hate this story is putting it mildly. So I'm going to put it out there now, this story is filled with drama and there's going to be a lot of it in the next few chapters. It's going without saying, I am a Christian and Ana fan otherwise I wouldn't be on this site. At the same the beautifully wrapped package of their courtship isn't my story because to me EL James did it so beautifully and there are writers far better than me who already have those stories. If we all told the same story, the site would be pretty boring. I wanted to explore the ups and downs of the relationship, the darker side. Where other writers venture but pull back. As much as I would love for everyone to take the ride with me I understand if some can't because it's too bumpy. So if a wild ride is your thing, thank you for hanging in with me…. If we all wrote the same story FF would be boring

Enjoy and please review.

"I thought I would find you here." A voice in the wilderness pierces the night cutting through the booming noise of the Gala. My arms wrapped around my body to shield the chill in the air, I turn to the faceless night.

"Hmm. Funny, I didn't realize you were looking seeing I was in front of you all night," I say tersely hugging my body more tightly as I turn my back to stare at the tranquil water again.

"I have it from here." I hear Christian say to the security guard who's been following me around all night, as he comes closer. And it hits me, I never bothered to get the guard's name.

"Yes Sir Mr. Grey, he responds before I hear am walking away.

"Oh, I get it. You weren't looking for me after all. You were looking for these," I say half-joking as my hands automatically go to my left ear to remove the expensive bauble.

"Anastasia stop," Christian says vehemently as he lunges for and grabs hold of my wrist stopping me before I can remove the flawless earring. "That's not why I'm here," he breathe as our eyes lock and we stare intently at each other until he's the first to speak. "I see old habits die hard. You always liked the dock. It's where I found you that night." He reminisces and he lets go of my wrist.

"Well, it felt stuffy in the tent. Plus I'd had it with Mrs. Lincoln," I say as I rub the wrist he'd just released. Not because he hurt me, but to be reminded where he last touched me.

"Elena. What did she do?" He huffs.

"Oh, I don't know. Put me down every chance she got. Intentionally mispronounced my name. The list is endless," I hiss.

"I'm sorry. I'll talk to her." Out the corner of my eye, I see him removing his tuxedo jacket. "Here take this," he says as he holds the jacket open for me to stick my arms in the two armholes.

"No thank you," I say rejecting his chivalry choosing to stay with the warmth of my arms.

"Anastasia damn it. Take it." And he steps closer with the open jacket.

"You know Christian I was fine out here by myself." I sigh. "Why don't you take your jacket inside for Miss Leggy Blonde? She'll need it when you take her home," I snip. I go to step around him to walk to another part of the lawn far away from him and he stops me.

"You want to play hardball? Fine," he growls and before I know it I'm looking at the grass upside down as I dangle from Christian's shoulder. "Two can play at that game." Huffing, he gives me a light swat on my touch before he stalks off in a fit.

"Christian put me down," I squeal.

"No. You won't take my jacket. Then we'll go where it's warm. The boathouse." And he gets the last say throwing the jacket over my back for spite.

"You're a bully," I say as he continues carrying me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Baby, you have no idea," he yells so I can hear him over the loud music of Gala.

"There," he says breathing hard when he sets my feet on the floor. I was so relieved when I saw the hardwood floors. Being upside down was starting to get to me. As Soon as, I'm upright and feel the blood flowing back into its proper places my head immediately feels normal. "Now what did you say with that smart mouth of yours?"

"Why did you bring me here Christian?" I ask intentionally ignoring his sardonic question.

"What?" He has a puzzled expression on his face.

"Let me spell it out for you. Did you bring me to the Gala to embarrass me? To watch you flirt with every woman at the Gala, while ignoring me." I have to bite my lip to keep from letting my emotions get the better of me. My head bowed, I can see him stepping closer and I feel a finger nudging my head up.

"Is that what you think?" His voice is soft as he lightly pulls my chin downward, freeing my bottom lip from between my teeth. "You're biting your lip. You know what that does to me," he says huskily. My breath catches and mesmerized by his words I nod my head no.

"Yes, you do. Don't be coy," I say running the pad of my thumb along her bottom lip. "The same way you know how you affect me. None of those women compare to you. When I saw you like this." I take a few strands of my hair between my fingers. "This is what I like." I weave my fingers through the silken chocolate tinted tresses until my hand is cupping her head at the nape of her neck. In anticipation of what's to come, Anastasia closes her eyes and brining her head forward and I brush my lips across her lips teasing her. And she lets out a soft whimper that's barely audible. I'd missed it if not for the closed proximity of our lips and the sweet feel of her breath against my lips.

He sucks on my bottom lip, before skillfully and gently prodding them open to allow his tongue entry. And I swoon, as he caresses my tongue with his greedily devouring my mouth. Lost in the myriad of sensations taking over my body, I get the courage to bring my arms around his neck but when I do, he pushes them away. Hurt and confuse I pull back on the kiss. Christian moves his hand from the back of my head resting his forehead mine and he lets out a deep breath.

"I thought one more. One more kiss. One more taste. Just one more that's all I needed and I'd stay away," he mumbles and I hold my breath waiting. "But one more isn't enough. I need more. So much more. I want you." He finally says it and I can release the breath I've been holding. "Let's get out of here? Come home with me" And he presses his forehead into mine.

"Okay," I pant and he immediately brings his head up and takes me by the hand. "Oh, I forgot," I say pulling on his hand getting him to pause.

"What?"

"Mia. I promised her that I would go out with her and her friends." He smirks at me.

"Don't worry I'll take care of Mia. We'll need to find my mother anyway to let her know I'm taking you home."

"Don't say it," Sam says putting up a hand as I approach. "I knew you were going after her; as soon as, I told you she was gone."

"It's always a pleasure seeing you," I say taking the hand she has up in mine giving it a light kiss on the back.

"I underestimated her and from the looks of it so did you. Or maybe I underestimated you. Watch it Grey. Your vulnerability is showing."

"What can I say have a soft spot for young passive women with a good body," I smirk.

"Keep telling yourself that," Sam says before resting a hand on the side of my face, "if it's what you need to get through the night." She removes her hand and pause for a moment "To be honest I never saw her as a worthy adversary, I thought she was a little too young for your taste." Before I can respond to Sam, I'm distracted by the scene unfolding behind her. Anastasia and Elena are engaged in a heated discussion so abandon Sam and head in their direction. Unfortunately, I'm not fast enough to catch Anastasia before she storms out the tent.

"What the fuck did you say to her?" I snarl when I reach Elena.

"Christian, please. Why are so upset? She's just some mousy little co-ed. She's not worthy of your time so I was just helping the poor girl to see it before she gets hurt," she purrs.

"Fuck you." And I take off after Anastasia.

"Christian go away. Leave me alone," Anastasia yells at me over her shoulders when she feels me coming up behind her.

"Damn it. Stop," I scream when I'm finally able to grab her by the elbow. "Stop running from me."

"Me. That's laughable. I'm the one always watching you leave. So I thought I would turn the tables for change." She jerks her elbow out of my grasp.

"Would you grow the fuck up?" I regret the words; as soon as, they leave my mouth, but Anastasia is frustrating the hell out of me right now.

"Tell you what Christian. Why don't you go back to the wicked stepsister and her mother if you want something old," she screams as she furiously points in the direction of the glamorous tent. Her voice is garbled so I can tell she's near tears so I quickly pull her to me.

"What did Elena say?" I whisper as I rub her back.

"The truth," she sobs.

"What truth does she know that I don't know?"

"Everyone does so I don't know why you don't," she sniffs. "That I'm not good enough for you," she says.

"Let me be the judge of that." And I push her back to cup her face in my hands wiping away the tears from her cheeks with the pads of my thumbs.

"You're going to mess up my makeup," she whimpers.

"You don't need it," I tell her and I bring her face closer so I can give her a soft kiss on her lips swollen from crying. "I'll call my mom and Mia. Let's get out of here." I release her face and she reaches for my hand.

Out of an abundance of caution, I intentionally take the trail at the perimeter of the property away from the sight and sound of the Gala to ensure that Anastasia doesn't cross path with Elena or Sam. She's suffered enough of their pettiness and I'm to blame for leaving her alone and vulnerable to their bullshit. I was too wrapped up in my own needs to consider hers. This must be as confusing for her as it is for me and I'm certain my behavior from tonight hasn't helped. Fuck, I'm supposed to be the worldly, controlled CEO in this duo and I'm the one behaving like the student.

"Wait in the car for me while I talk to Taylor," I say to Anastasia as I reluctantly release her hand to open the door to the R8. Ensuring that she's safely ensconced in the car, I step to the rear to have a conversation with Taylor.

"Nice car," she says as she runs her hand over the soft leather upholstery.

"Thank you. It's a favorite toy of mine."

"I didn't realize you drove yourself. I thought that was the purpose of your driver."

"He's not simply my driver. He's much more. But yes normally he drives me; however, tonight I felt like driving myself."

"I see. But are you okay to drive?" She asks as the R8 purrs to life. "I mean I did see you drinking a lot at the Gala."

"I'm more than okay to drive. It's why I was talking to Taylor. He keeps a breathalyzer on hand and I was breathing into it to make sure my blood alcohol level was below the legal limit. I would never endanger my life, yours or the other drivers on the road. It might've looked like I was drinking a lot, but water was in most of the glasses because I knew I would be driving. So I'm good. Otherwise, Taylor would be driving."

"Silly me, how could I've forgotten about the Ways and Means Committee," she smirks.

"Ms. Steel you sure have a smart mouth," I warn her before pulling out to the driveway. Looking in the rearview mirror I can see Taylor on my tail in the SUV.

"Pull your dress up," I instruct Anastasia as we make our way down the long driveway. To teach her a lesson because of her smart mouth so I decide to have some fun.

"What?"

"You heard me, Anastasia. Bring that very alluring blue dress up. Roll it and bring it half way your thighs," I specify and I see her wheels turning. "Now," I say in my Dom voice which means nothing to her, but she's smart enough to know that I mean business. And soon I see her lifting her tight little ass up from the seat to facilitate in bringing the dress up to my specification. Careful not to leave my eyes off the road for too long, I shoot glances her way, taking in every inch of her legs as she rolls the dress up is making me salivate.

"Good," I say when she reaches my desired position on her upper thighs. I can almost see that magical spot between her legs that has been calling to me, but no one else can. "Thigh highs." I shift into gear. "Next time I want you in garters." And I shift again.

"Okay," she pants. She's breathless and I haven't touched her.

"These will do for the night." And I run my fingers along the lace over the top, lightly grazing the skin on her inner thigh.

"OH, she moans as she presses the back of her head into the headrest.

"Damn baby. If you're reacting that way from a graze on the thigh, what are you going to do when I touch you here?" Quickly, I move my hand under the rolled up dress cupping her panty clad wetness before pulling my hand back. Fuck me she's drenched.

She gasp, as she lifts out of the seat, I'm afraid someone will see her. But I have to admit seeing her in this much need for me, is a fucking turn on and I can feel my dick pressing against the zipper of my tuxedo pants begging for relief. My hand resting on the gear, I give it another shift before turning my attention back to the writhing woman on the seat next to me.

"I'm on Fire," comes over the sound system, echoing my sentiments exactly. Obviously this was not plan, I'm making it up on the fly, but I can't resist. I chance a peek at Anastasia and she's squirming. This combined with the scent of her arousal filling the car, propels me to go to the next step. I want to see if I can make her come before we arrive at Escala.

"Pull your panties downs your legs." She hesitates to confirm my seriousness. When she sees that I'm damn serious, she follows through. "Good girl," I say huskily.

Her panties down, I reach under her dress running my fingers along the skin of her inner thigh before settling on her lips. And I let my fingers play between the slit as I drag a finger along the bundle of nerves at the center and like a vice grip Anastasia takes hold of my wrist.

"Okay, baby if we're going to do this you can't fight me. It's tough enough; as it is, to do this and drive. So can you handle it?" She nods her head yes, as she tries to regulate her breathing and she releases my wrist. My hand free to roam, I pinch the throbbing nub between my two fingers massaging it until Anastasia screams out her pleasure as she struggles to stay in her seat.

"Oh Christian, that feels so good," she pants and squeezes her eyes close absorbing all the pleasure my fingers are bringing her.

I can't make it to Escala fast enough, but as it is the R8 is barely skimming the road so I can't risk push it any faster. Just as my fingers are really exploring and massaging Anastasia's core, the phone rings interrupting the Boss and me. I see Elliot's name on the screen in the car and I want to kill him

"Elliot," I huff. My hand deep in Anastasia's wetness, I give her a quick glance and she looks horrified. So I give her a reassuring nod but I don't stop rubbing the pulsating nub hard.

"Hey, Bro. Mom said Anastasia is with you."

"Yes, she is," I say calmly as I continue my manipulation between Anastasia's leg. And she covers her mouth with one hand to muffle her cries while simultaneously burying her fingernails into the upholstery at the door in an effort to conceal from Elliot what I'm doing to her.

"Look man. Kate and I are heading back to the hotel so she was checking in with Ana. She wanted to know when she would arrive at the hotel." Elliot says and we hear Kate in the background. Clearly she's drunk.

"Elliot it's my understanding there are two bedroom so it doesn't matter when Anastasia arrives. Look I'm taking Anastasia to Escala for a moment so you two can have some alone time in peace," I say hurriedly trying to get him off the phone. I feel Anastasia clenching around my fingers and I pause.

"Good looking out. Hey tell Anastasi hi and Kate wants to talk to her." Caught in the middle of an orgasm, Anastasia nervously shakes her head no at me and I immediately disconnect Elliot. Since I do it to him all the time, it shouldn't tip him off.

The music returns to sound system signaling an end to the call and Anastasia lets go. She calls out variations of my name as her orgasm consumes her. As she comes down from her orgasm, I remove my fingers soaked with her arousal bringing them to my mouth sucking them one at a time. She rests the back of her head against the seat, as she looks at me with her mouth gaping open.

"Are you okay?" I smile at her.

"Yes. Just give me a moment to come back to earth," she lets out a breath.

"Well, you have about 5 minutes before we make it to Escala." I reach over to help her with her dress. "Well, that was quite the show. You're so responsive," I say as I reach to move strands of sweat drenched hair from her face. Anastasia doesn't respond she simply closes her eyes.

She's exhausted. Taking into account, how Anastasia has reacted to me fucking her with my hand it's clear the asshole photographer hasn't done a good job taking care of her needs. Fucker, probably doesn't know how to or what she needs. I need to erase that thought from mind, but I hate to think of him touching her at all.

Finally, Escala is insight and Taylor is right behind me when I pull into the underground garage and subsequent parking spot. When he's out of his vehicle, I signal for him to go up without us.

Taylor gone, I shift in my seat to face Anastasia and I take a moment to adjust my engorge cock. Reaching over I brush more strands of her dampen hair from her face.

"Hello," I say when she opens her eyes for me.

"Hi, yourself." She blinks. "I wasn't sleeping. I was resting my eyes," she gives me a shy smile.

"I know." And with my fingers I move a few more of the wet strands from her face as she turns her head away in disgust.

"No." She swats a hand at me. "I must look horrible," she whines.

"Look at me." Gently, I nudge at the side of her face coercing her to turn to me. "You're beautiful." And I lightly tap her on the tip of her nose. "But we need to talk."

"Did I do something wrong?" She asks anxiously as her expression morphs into concerns.

"No, just the opposite. You were breathtaking. I've never done anything like that in my car. Any of them," I add.

"Really," she says and her mood morphs back.

"Yes really," I give her a boy next door smile. "You were my first," I say softly and she gives me a broad smile.

"I hope it was, as good for you as it was for me," she says coquettishly.

"By the way you were writhing in your seat," I wrinkle my brows," I'd have to say no." And she swats at the hand resting at her head, but holding my fingers instead. It's a subtle, but the simple action is comforting.

"I'll make it up to you," she whispers and I draw my hand back reluctantly breaking the connection between our fingertips. And I run a hand through my hair as I close my eyes burying the back of the head against the plush headrest of the R8.

"What's wrong Christian? You're scaring me," she says.

"You're scaring me." I rotate my whole body in the seat bending my legs awkwardly so I'm positioned to face her full on. As full on, as one can get in a sports car. "You and me like this is scaring me. I can't help it. Somehow it feels wrong but there's something about you that won't let me do the right thing and let you go. I can't leave you alone no matter how hard I try. You saw how well it worked out at the Gala?" I snort, shaking my head at the ridiculousness of my actions.

"Well it wasn't your finest hour, but all's well that ends well." And she gives me a smile warm enough to melt most harden glacier.

"See that's it." I point," that smile slays me every time. You are lethal. But seriously Anastasia we're about to enter uncharted territory…"

"Too late, we've already entered it or at least put a finger in it," she jokes and she bites her bottom lip.

"I know what you're doing so stop biting your lip," I warn and I watch as she seductively releases the plump lip toying with me. "Ms. Steel stop trying to distract me. Baby we need to get serious. I need you to understand who I am. I'm not the Prince Charming you've created in your mind and memorialize in a nice little box. Far from it, I'm deeply flawed. I bare the physical and emotional scars of my past." Anastasia reaches across the console, resting a finger against my lips shushing me.

"May I remind you how I first came into your life? No one was more broken than me and it was you who helped put me back together. So I have scars too. Christian, We're all flawed no one is perfect," she says removing her finger and sitting back in her seat.

"I wish it was that simple."

"It can be."

"No. For one, I have very singular taste."

"Enlighten me."

"Let's just say I don't do hearts and flowers. I fuck. Hard," I say and I wait for her reaction. To her credit, she gives nothing away.

"Okay."

"Okay. That's all you have to say?"

"What do you want me to say, Christian? Is it what you do or is it an incendiary comment meant to get a rise out of me? I can't tell with you. One minute I feel like you're letting me in and we're getting somewhere. Then you push me away again. If that big declaration was an attempt to get me to change my mind. I'm sorry I'm not going anywhere. I've been waiting for you," she breathes and I lean over to cup her face.

"I can see it in your eyes. You're a romantic. You believe in everything I don't. You want someone to make love to you like the photographer." She grasps my wrist throwing my hand off her face.

"I can't believe you're bringing up Jose now," she huffs and she turns her head to face out the car window.

"I'm sorry. I'm not good at this." I rub my hand over my face. "It's not what I do. I don't talk about this shit. Feelings. I don't have a fucking heart, so how can I. I just fuck." The word almost dies on my tongue as I watch Anastasia stare in the distance concentrating on a concrete wall.

"What do you want Christian? I know what I want and I'm sorry you don't get to tell me what to feel. I want you. And I will take you any way I can get you. Now you know where I stand. The ball is in your court. You can make excuses, but you have to make a decision," she says when she manages to pull her attention away from the window bringing it back to me. And I watch her wipe at the moisture on her face.

"Can I ask you something that has been on my mind, but it's gotten lost in all of this? Late, I know but how old are you? I need to know." She squares her shoulders and take a final swipe at her cheeks.

"Why do you ask?"

"I think it's a reasonable question. I mean I've done some calculations in my head as I try to rationalize this attraction I have for you. Since I don't know how old you were back then, trying to calculate is moot." Defiant, Anastasia interrupts

"You can stop with the math. I'm 21," Anastasia says defiantly. Clearly she's upset because I've offended her. Damn Sam for putting the thought in my head. I keep finding my way a way to stick my foot in my mouth with her.

The rubber finally met the road. Kate's prediction came to fruition. Sensing the moment slipping away, I made the snap to the decision to lie. Who am I kidding, I'd known all along what my response would be to this question. I was just hoping it would never come to this point. Hoping I wouldn't have to lie. I guess I didn't have to lie, but the truth would've assured me a one-way ticket back to the hotel.

"Its 10:30 PM," Christian says looking at his watch. "Let's get out of here. I don't know about you, but it's starting to get uncomfortable."

"Taylor you can take the rest of the evening off we're good here," I say when I see him entering the main part of the house.

"Yes, Mr. Grey."

"Anastasia, do you want a glass?" I ask as I reach in the cabinet for two wine glasses.

"No, but I'll have some water," she says as she continues to the sofa.

When I have our drinks poured, I carry them to the living room where Anastasia is waiting for me. I set the glasses on the glass coffee table. Before taking my seat next to her, I undo my bowtie and the top button on my shirt for some much-needed relief. After the impromptu scene in the car and our frank and sometimes fiery discussion Anastasia's appearance is not as put together. Her hair is messy, her makeup out of place and her dress eschew, but she's never looked more beautiful. I've always appreciated her simplicity. To me, it's one of the many things that makes her irresistible. In my life, I've experienced so much bad, that when something so perfect comes my way it's hard to believe it's meant for me.

"Here, let me have your feet," I say reaching for her Louboutin clad feet. I remove the shoes before letting her legs rest on my lap. "Let me take these off," I say as I run my hands over her stocking feet. And she hikes her dress giving me better access to the thigh high stockings.

I run my fingers over the delicate lace before I slowly pull the mesh down her thigh, her leg and feet kissing each spot as I go. And the whimpering sound Anastasia makes is music to my ear.

"I can still taste your arousal on your inner thigh," I groan as I make eye contact with her. She's so turned on, at this point I could probably make her come with my words. And as I'm about to lean down and take another whiff of her, my pocket vibrates.

"Elliot," I snip when I pull the phone from my pocket answering it. Anastasia comes up on her elbows and I don't know if it was my tone or hearing me say Elliot that catches her attention.

"Hey, Bro. Kate wanted to talk to Ana." I sigh, before handing Anastasia the phone. While she talks to her friend, I pick up my wine glass and pace back and forth as I think on what's coming next.

I know she's adamant, but I also know I'm not right for her. This is not right for her so I need to be the more mature person and for the first time not give into my selfish needs.

"Okay bye, Kate." When I hear Anastasia end the call, cautiously I approach her, and I see her trying to read my expression.

"Sorry about that," she says.

"Don't worry about it. At first I cursed my brother but after thinking things over, I've come to the conclusion that it's exactly what we needed. Consider it a push of the pause button." Steepling my fingers, I bring them to my lips and Anastasia eyes me warily.

Her sapphire blue eyes are blazing with heat, but the twinge of doubt is threatening to break through. And I don't want the doubt to be about her, viewing this as another rejection from me. So leaning forward I rest my hand on the back of the sofa at her head as I hover over her. I want no, I need her to understand that this is far from a rejection. I want nothing more than to lay with her in my bed. Something I've never done with anyone, not even Sam. She was never my sub, but she might as well have been because I saw her in the same light. With Anastasia it's different, all week I've tried to convince myself that I wanted her in my playroom but in my head I only saw her in my bed. After all these years, the image I create in my mind is still far more powerful and based in truth, than the lie I perpetrate in reality.

"I need you to trust me and not argue. It's better this way. So I'm going to take a shower. Probably a very cold one I may add," I say trying to bring some levity to the situation, but it's not working. Anastasia remains blank. "I'll take you to the hotel when I'm showered and dressed. Kate and Elliot should be fine in her room and if not it serves them right," I say bringing my body back to a standing position. I pull the bowtie through the collar of the still crisp white tuxedo shirt tossing it on the back of a chair I pass on my way to the hall. I intentionally avoid making eye contact with Anastasia before heading down the hallway to keep from changing my mind.

APOW

What just happened? How did we go from white hot heat to arctic cold with nothing in between? Darn Kate and her nosiness and Elliot for indulging her drunkenness and calling me. Not for the call, I'd probably be heading down the hallway with him. Watching him disappear down the corridor of the condo, I desperately try to come up with a plan to salvage the evening. I fear if we lose this moment we may never get another shot at it.

Christian's attitude is at odds with the image he projects in public. He's so insecure. In the few conversations, I've had with him I see a damaged boy who has not been healed with the change in seasons. I'm familiar with the pain, but I guess I've done a better job of suppressing mine to keep it from crippling me. We're more alike than I first thought, overcompensating for our poor excuses for pasts. Then I have an aha moment, I'll go to him. I'll take the lead because I have the sneaking feeling no one has ever asked him what he needs. So I'll go to him and give of myself freely with no expectation of anything in return because he needs me even if he doesn't see it.

Bending I pick up the stilettos, he put at the corner of the sofa because they are crucial to my plan so with them in my hand I tiptoe down the same hallway Christian took. Unsure of where to go I follow the stream of light coming through a door slightly ajar at the end of the hall. Slowly pushing the door back, I scan the room to one make sure it's Christian's bedroom and two that he's not in it. When I hear the shower, I get my answer so I slowly make my way inside.

I have to be quick so there's only time for a speedy scan of the room. Compared to the other rooms in the condo I've seen, it's more inviting. Just as spacious, same clean lines but plush bedding and wood tones provide some needed warmth. Christian's scent is pervasive in the space and I'm seriously thinking of abandoning my plan to roll around in the tux shirt that's now tossed on a chair near the bed. But thinking of the greater good keeps me focused.

Reaching my arm around to my back to find the zipper, of the stupidly expensive dress, fumbling I slowly bring it down as fast as I can without getting it caught. The dress pooling at my feet, I step out of it right into the Christian Louboutin's. I'm going with the shoes mimicking seduction scenes from the movies.

Clad only in my exceedingly high-priced bra, panties and shoes I prepare to execute the final leg of my plan pausing only to enjoy the sweet sounds of Andrea Bocelli. Then I tip slowly on my toes so my shoes won't hit against the hardwood floor alerting him to my arrival. When I make it to the door of the bathroom, I can feel the warmth coming from the hot water. "What, no cold shower," I giggle under my breath.

I rest a palm on the door before slowly pushing it open; fear and doubt are creeping in as I now question my sanity. Who am I to think I'm the salvation for Christian Grey. He's a Greek God and I'm a mere mortal. But in the end, it doesn't really matters I just want to be with him; I've gotten a sample and already he's my drug. Justin has never sung any truer words.

My confidence back, inch by inch I push the door keeping it from making a sound, not that any doors in this apartment would make a sound, but you know what they say about old habits. Plus, I'm not at all confident that I will be welcomed by Christian so I don't want him to see me too soon making it easy for him to dismiss me. But it's too late to turn back now; I couldn't if I wanted to. I'm greeted with a view that defies a description. Christian Grey in the nude is not for the faint of heart. Paralyzed, I take a moment to enjoy the pretty.

From where I'm standing, I think his eyes are closed in quiet contemplation as he rests his palms against the tiled wall. The steaming water is raining on his beautiful head as he leans into the cascading downpour of the shower. And I can't help but watch as the water ripples over every sinew of his body before it pitter-patters on the tiled floor. First it rolls down his strong neck over his broad shoulders along his bulging biceps across his hard chest over every ridge and valley on his abandon not missing his masculine legs landing on his feet. Oh his feet, how can feet be a turn on? If there on Christian Grey that's how. How can this man be real, the way he is in the shower he doesn't look real. I have an overwhelming need to touch him. But as I take in the beautiful features of his face and body under the water, he looks too perfect to disturb. Like a work of art made to be admired but not touched.

I feel an arm snaking around my waist taking me by surprise and it doesn't hit me that it's Christian until the water makes contact with my body. I didn't realize I was standing so close. Heck, I have no memory of walking further into the room.

CPOV

Her presence in the room is overwhelming and when I open my eyes I see why. Anastasia is standing before me, her already tousled hair untamed by the steam. And she's a vision. Her face is flushed, her eyes dark with need, and her body insanely defined in the all the right areas. My forearm braced against the tiled wall, shields my eyes from her view, so I doubt she knows that I'm watching her watching me. Sneaking a peek down my body, I see what has captured her attention. My dick is fully erect, the veins are visible as it throbs with a need only she can satisfy.

So in a stealth move I open the glass enclosure, reach through snake an arm around her waist yanking her flush with my body bringing her under the steamy water with me. Caught unawares, Anastasia shrieks and squirms in a veil attempt to get away. In a whirlwind of water, hair, squeals, and squirms simultaneously I spin slamming Anastasia to the tiled wall while my outstretched hand braces against it breaking her contact.

Caged in by my body and held in a vice grip, Anastasia circles my neck with her arms, at the same time swinging her legs around my waist. I can feel the patent leather of her sky high heels digging into my ass, as she struggles to get traction with my slippery body. Pausing a beat, I remove the hand at her head bracing the wall to urge her back slightly to gain better access to her full mouth. Anastasia lays back as far as she can, considering the tiled wall at her back. It's incremental, but its room enough for me take her face between my hands and as she pants I cover her mouth swallowing her every breath, as I greedily partake of her tongue. Roughly, I nibble, suck, lick and prod at her mouth hungrily as I try to consume her. The deeper and harder I thrust my tongue devouring her mouth the more I want. I can almost feel her already plump lips getting plumper, as they become gloriously swollen from my ministration. If the treatment is too much, Anastasia's body is a liar because I can feel the arousal on every surface of her skin. The water cascading over our heads only serves to add more heat to our already inflamed bodies.

"Thought I said wait for me?" I ask breathing huskily, as I pause to give us both a chance to catch our breaths.

"I've already waited for forever," she pants. "My very expensive shoes and lingerie are getting wet," she whines and I reach behind me removing the now soaking wet Christian Louboutin one at a time before tossing them aside.

I move her dripping hair off her shoulder to kiss her neck. "I'll have Christian Louboutin make you a million more," I say against her skin as I give her butterfly kisses and she giggles and squirms. My arm is wrapped around her tiny waist so tight, she's not going anywhere until I say so. "Stay still Anastasia," I warn and I lightly bite down on a diamonds earring and she lets out an audible gasp.

"Oh god, I forgot I had the earrings on."

"I can afford them too, besides I've wanted to fuck you in them all night." And I suck gently on that space between her ears and neck before coming back to face her. "Now let's get you out these wet clothes," I say against her lips before I slip my tongue through curling it in her mouth. And when I release her mouth I see the lump at the base of her throat as she swallows hard.

I move my hand behind her to undo her bra. The snaps free, deftly I hook a finger under each strap letting my fingers graze her skin as I slowly bring the straps down her arms. When the lacy fabric is in my hand, I toss it to the other end of the shower to join her shoes. I take a moment to admire her full sumptuous breasts, before brushing my lips against the pink erect nipples

Anastasia exhales loudly as her head lolls back against the tiled wall. And I put my palms at the small of her back forcing her chest closer to my mouth so I can suck one of the wet plump mounds further in my mouth where I feast ravenously.

"You're a perfect size." My voice is garbled as I savor the breast in my mouth.

Anastasia whimpers are heard over the running water and I suck, bite and lick until I'm ready to give the other breast the same treatment. By the way she's breathing and kneading my ass with the heels of her feet, as she desperately tries to pull my cock closer to her entrance for relief, I know Anastasia is close. Fuck so am I, but I'm not ready for this impromptu scene to end, luckily I'm skilled at holding back my orgasm. However, if the car is any indication Anastasia is most definitely not. She's much too sensitive or inexperienced for me to attempt orgasm denial with her. So to my dismay, I'm going to have to move this along but I will not fuck her in here. The first time I enter her, I want it to be in my bed where I can take my time. I've not gone hearts and flowers, on the contrary after these little snippets, I want to give her the full taste of my sexual appetite.

Grabbing her leg at either side of my waist, I give the erect nipple one last hard bite for maximum pleasure before gently setting her back on her feet. The height difference causes her arms to forcibly untangle from my neck, so taking advantage of the break in connection I immediately drop to my knees and instantaneously cup her breasts with both my hands. Peeking up, through my lashes I see Anastasia looking down on me rendered speechless. Her wet main but a thin veil over her face failing to conceal her scorching hot desire that is evident by the redness of her cheeks, her heavy panting, and her look of awe. I give her a sinister smirk, before lowering to take a small piece of the fabric covering her sweetness between my teeth and slowly bring it down her legs. When I've completed my task, I toss the triangular fabric to the rest of the pile. I don't have to look at Anastasia to know what she's feeling, from the sounds she's making and the way her body is responding, she's on the edge.

Removing my hands from her breasts, I rest my palms on her toned abdomen to keep her still while I feather kisses down that trail leading to my happy place.

"Christian. Please," Anastasia begs as she tries to move but I have her pressed against the tiled wall so firmly she can't. And I make to say something but the words get stuck in my throat, as my lips come in contact with her smattering of hair. Ordinarily, this would be an automatic turn-off for me, but on her it's making my dick ache even more with need for her. My target in sight, I rub my face against the fuzz taking in her scent before I lick and suck her folds. Then I use my tongue to prod my way through the swollen lips.

"Christian," Anastasia pleads and I have to move my hands from her stomach to behind her knees to keep her upright.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you," I say against her wetness as I get out what I was meant to say earlier. And I go back to sucking on the throbbing nub at her core. Again her knees buckle and still time I send her spiraling with a flick of my tongue and I cup her ass pulling her flush to my mouth because I want to taste every bit of her.

And I'm right at her entry lapping up her arousal not allowing it to go to waste this time; she taste even better than before. Anastasia my favorite taste in the world, I think as I suck her dry. I feel Anastasia collapsing as her organism courses through her body and I fall to the shower floor with her. When I'm sure she's reached the end of her orgasm, I rise to my feet with her in my arms. Her arms encircling my neck, Anastasia gives me a sweet kiss.

"Ewe. I think I taste myself on your lips."

"You taste good huh?" I tease and she wrinkles her face as she gives her head a childlike nod. And I can't help but give her another peck on the lips. "It's the best taste in the world, you better get used to it. Now put your legs back around me." I adjust my engorged cock, so I don't end up fucking her in the shower after all. Pulling her flush against my body I reach behind her turning off the water before stepping out the shower with Anastasia clinging to me.

As I go to make my first step, I can hear Edith Piaf, singing the hauntingly beautiful" Non je ne regrette rien", and I hope I won't regret tonight.

Thank you and I hope you enjoyed…Don't forget to review


	8. Chapter 8: You're My Angel

Chapter 8: You're My Angel

Fifty Shades of Grey belongs to EL James

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With Anastasia clinging to me like ivy, I step carefully as not to slip on the warm wet tiled floor. But my strides are long because I'm anxious to reach my bedroom; as a result, I don't bother to stop for towels. For what I have planned, there's no need to dry our bodies only to get them wet again. Drops of water are hitting me from all direction, on my front from Anastasia's hair and my back from my hair.

I'm relieved when my knees hit the edge of the bed because it's a miracle that I made this far without ramming my aching cock into her. Breathing hard, I untangle Anastasia from my body and toss her on the king size bed where I watch her bounce for a fraction before climbing to join her. She continues to shriek as I put my hands on either on the inside of her inner thighs stilling her, as I crawl between her legs where I lean down capturing her shriek with my mouth.

"Be quiet," I whisper against her lips when I release her mouth, and I crawl back down her body my engorged cock grazing her wet skin in the process.

"Oh Christian," she moans as she wriggles beneath me.

Unable to deny myself any longer, on my knees between her legs I take the pulsating cock in my hand giving it one long stroke as I prepare to position it at her entrance. The lids on Anastasia's eyes are heavy, and her cheeks flushed as she watches, but I also see a tinge of fear. And I know it's the size of my dick that has her concerned. Based on her reaction it's clear that I'm bigger than the photographer, not that I had much doubt. Fuck I'm bigger than most men, but seeing it in Anastasia expression fills me with a sense of pride that I wasn't expecting. But I need to reassure her, so I lean over and speak softly against her ear.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you." I almost said I'll be gentle, but I only know one speed when it comes to fucking. Hard.

"Okay," she says nervously. Her voice is breathy and soft.

Hovering over her, I reach a hand back and take a hold my cock aligning it with her entrance.

I'm millimeters from reaching my target until I hear three words that cause me to freeze.

"I'm a virgin," I blurt out and immediately cover my face with my hands.

Peeking through the holes in my fingers I spy Christian on his knees with his penis hanging between his legs and his eyes are dark with fury. He runs his hands through his hair and I feel the bed dip as he crawls over me to the other side. I had every intention of getting through this without him ever knowing my virginity status, but when I felt him down there the fear took over. The silence is looming large in the room and I can't take it anymore so I'm the first to speak.

"Say something." I whimper.

"What fuck do you want me to say?" He seethes. Oh no he angrier than I thought.

"Please don't yell at me," I sniffle and I hear him sighing before he comes up on one elbow.

"I'm sorry. But this is a vital piece of information to leave out of the discussion. I don't mean to be blunt, but I've made it my mission not to fuck inexperienced women. I haven't fucked a woman that was a virgin since college. To be truthful, being with you was already breaking one of my rules." He pauses.

"What?" I ask, but my voice is barely audible.

"I don't fuck women your age. Let me qualify that statement. I prefer my women more seasoned and experienced."

"So you like cougars?" My question is sarcastic, but I'm hurt because I think he's throwing Sam and Elena in my face.

"No. Just women that I can be assured are not virgins. I don't care about the number of partners as long their health records check out. I feel it's easier for them to accept what I have to offer. I'm not hearts and flowers." He takes his free hand and moves some of still the wet strands from my face. "You shouldn't lose your virginity to someone like me. I always knew, this was wrong. Me being with you like this and this confirms it for me."

"Christian. I want this. Yes, I got scared when I saw your size but I still want you," I whisper.

"How are you still a virgin? I mean you're 21 almost 22 and I saw how the photographer looked at you at the photo shoot. I just assumed you two were intimate despite the nature of your relationship. After all love isn't essential for sex…" And he pauses "Fuck me," he yells out before collapsing on the bed and bringing his forearm over his eyes.

"Christian," I call as I turn to look down at him and he removes his forearm to stare up at me.

"You're exactly what I thought. A romantic. You believe in the fairytale. The white knight and everything. I was right you want someone to make love to you. That's important to you and it should be. I don't begrudge you it, but I can't offer you it return. Regardless of how hard you try to tell yourself, you're not cynical," he says and he sits up reaching for my hand. I give it to him and he brings me up with him. "How did you let me do all that shit to you in the car? In the shower?"

"I wanted it. Like I want you. You say I'm lying well so are you. You want me, Christian. Stop putting up roadblocks for yourself. Stop denying me. If you didn't want me, you wouldn't still be hard," I say reaching over to grab his erection.

I think he's going to stop me, but he doesn't he closes his eyes as I rub the large member in my hand feeling every vein and the moisture at the tip.

"Fuck it," he pants and pushes me back down on the bed. "Damn." He breathes

"What now?"

"You're a virgin so I'm sure you're not on birth control and my condoms are in the other drawer."

"Wrong again Mr. Control Freak. I'm on the pill for female reasons." Geez, I'm about to get intimate with the guy and I can't say period.

"Okay. But I'm not taking you like this. We're on the bed so let's get underneath the covers." And he stands reaching down to take me in his arms and he pulls down the now wet comforter with the sheet placing me on the bottom sheet.

Without skipping a beat, he climbs on the bed and I open my legs to him. Holding my gaze, he sticks two fingers in me and I squirm.

"Good. I was checking to ensure that you were still wet for me." And leans over me taking my mouth in a kiss. This time it's more passionate. More desperate as he enslaves my mouth sucking and exploring every inch of it. And it isn't until he enters me that I realize what his tactic of distraction.

Since India, I vowed to never fuck another virgin. I'd known better, but India promised me that she could handle it; however, after a few weeks she wrote me a letter professing her love for me. I too had conflicted feelings, but seeing the words on paper made mine come into focus. I wasn't in love, not the same way she was anyway. So to keep emotions out of the sex, I played it safe and went back to BDSM adding an extra layer of protection by requiring that all my subs be experienced submissive. That way I could ensure no more virgins. Yet, after all, the safeguards put into place here I am between the legs of a virgin. Alas, I have no one to blame but myself, I should have known not to venture out of the lifestyle. It never worked in my favor in the past. It didn't work with the co-eds at Harvard. It didn't work with Sam and it sure as hell didn't work out with India. What do they say, "Those who do not learn from their mistakes are bound to repeat them", or some variation of that.

To distract her from what I'm about to do to her, I take Anastasia in a rough, passionate kiss and let my dick rub up against her until it finds her entrance on its own. And with my tongue embedded deep in her mouth I flex my ass and in one smooth thrust I enter her. It's meant to be as gentle as I can be, but considering my size and it's her first time the entry is painful for her and she cries out. My mouth still covering hers, I'm there to capture her cries and I still giving her time to acclimate.

"Baby, I'm going to move now," I moan against her mouth as I release it to come up on my elbows to get the traction I need to really move. Anastasia's head lifts off the bed marginally as she seeks out my connection finding it with my chest.

Resting her head against my chest, she moans as I continue thrusting in her. She's so tight, tighter than India. How's that even possible, because India was tighter than hell. Anastasia also feels good, better than any woman I've ever fucked in my lifetime and a swell of pride fills my chest knowing I'm her first. At the same time, it scares me that the thought of not being her last burns in that same space.

The more he thrusts, the higher I feel. The feeling is indescribable. Imagine the best feeling you've ever experienced multiplied by infinity is how good I'm feeling right now. It feels like my body has detached from this world and I'm floating and he pumps into me again harder this time. Hitting all the right spot. Spots I didn't even know existed.

I feel his breath on my neck as he bury his face in my hair bracing himself to go deeper and harder in me. My face positioned similarly on his neck, I breathe in his scent a combination of expensive gel and Christian. Our bodies' slick with moisture, I can no longer discern if it's the dampness from our recent tryst in the shower or the sweat we just created. Either way, it serves as the perfect lubricant for the friction his thrusting is creating between our bodies. There's music in the background, but all I hear is our combined heavy breathing, moans, and vocal prowess. And it's his words I'm more focused on.

I like the sound of my name on his tongue every time he thrusts into me. I like the way he asks if I'm okay after every slam. I like the way he murmurs under his breath how tight I am when he enters me, and I even like the way he says fuck when he feels it. My first orgasm in his car under the tutelage of his fingers was mind blowing. The second in the shower under his deft tongue was earth shattering. And this one is on target to be… "Argh" I scream out interrupting my own thought.

"Come for me Anastasia," Christian says huskily as he reaches back touching me there as he continues driving into me.

Soon I'm falling, glorious falling… "Oh, my God" I hear myself crying out as my orgasm starts coursing through my body. Tears beckon and they fall uncontested down my cheeks as the I love yous' fall liberally from my lips in a voice I don't recognize as my own as the last of my orgasm wracks my body. As I start to come down from my cosmic high Christian reaches his peak and fills me with his release.

Once I get past Anastasia's emotional outcry, another reminder of why I don't fuck inexperienced women, I succumb to my own orgasm. "Fuck...Fuck me," I yell out. Anastasia's tightness is squeezing me in a vice grip milking me dry. In all my years, I'd never had my dick gripped quite like this. Out of breath, the full weight of my body collapses on her, as I let the last of my cum empty into her.

Pulling out I look down and see the evidence of her virginity coating my cock along with our joint orgasms. When I hold my head up Anastasia meets my gaze and she's beet red, as she eyes the blood on my cock. Embarrassed she closes her eyes and hustles up the bed anxious to get away from me.

"Oh no, you don't," I say grabbing hold of her by the waist before rolling off her to my side of the bed. "Move your hands. No time to be shy now," I tease.

"I know. But I didn't expect it," she lets out a nervous giggle.

"Since you're getting all these degrees I keep hearing about, I'm sure you had sex education at one point?" My question is rhetorical and as she answers I clean my dick with the sheet. Looking over I can see my cum coating her fuzz. I don't dear offer her to clean up, now that I've marked her as mine. My eyes fixed on the spot between her legs where I've just been I get on my elbow turning on my side to face her.

"We need to talk," I can't believe I just mouth those words so soon after sex. What the hell is she doing to me? Her is hair is starting to dry so the frizz is setting in, but she's never looked more beautiful. And I have to refrain from staring at her adoringly giving her the wrong impression, considering the upcoming topic of conversation.

"I think I know what you want to talk about. But don't say it. I don't need to hear you say it. It may be wrong and I probably shouldn't have, but I meant it. You may think this makes no sense. That I could feel this way so quickly, but I am in love you. I think I've been in love with in some form or other since that night." And I intentionally bite my lip to pause. "I don't expect you to return my sentiments, but I don't want to hear deny me either. Please don't tell me to suppress my feelings. Let me have tonight, tomorrow we will deal with it then."

"Anastasia I was right. You think this is a fairytale. It's not and I'm not prince charming, White Knight or any of those gallant heroes. I'm a man, a flawed man who is incapable of giving you what you want, what you think you want or what you need. I'm not hearts and flowers or any of those pretty things little girls like you dream about. The photographer may not be my favorite person, but he's more suited for you than I am."

"Stop it. I don't need to hear you sell Jose to me like my thoughts don't matter. They do matter. My heart matters and he's not the one my heart wants. My heart wants you. And I wonder if you would so heartedly embrace the idea that he was better for me than you if you knew what he did to me," I snarl and jump from the bed. Instantaneously I feel the sign of my lost virginity and his release starts to make it way down my thighs.

"Ana what did he do to you?" He yells at me and I stop at the end of his bed.

"This." And I pull my hair back to show him the hickey Jose left on my neck. ""He tried to rape me," I seethe and it's the first time I've used the words to describe what Jose did. At that moment, I feel vulnerable and I flee before reaches. Luckily I'm close to the bathroom so I'm able to make it inside in time.

"Anastasia," I shout as I hear the clock on the door click and I give the door one last pound with my fist before walking away.

"Motherfucker," I hiss. From the first moment I saw him, I knew there was something I didn't like about the Bastard. But putting his hand on her is one step too far and he's going to pay. I know it's late, but I pay him very well specifically for situations like this one. I want Mr. Rodriguez handled.

I go back to the bed to patiently wait for her. It doesn't take long for Anastasia to come back. I'm sitting on the bed with my arm behind my head and she slowly walks toward be as I pat the space next to me for her to take.

"You smell like bath oil," I say.

"Yes. I hope you don't mind I used some of your bath wash to clean up a bit."

"No, I don't mind Anastasia. Tell me what happened with the Photographer," I say as pull her hair back to look at the spot she tried to show me earlier. It's fading, but I can tell it was a fairly large hickey.

"It wasn't that bad I made it sound worse than it was because I was trying to make a point."

"Let me be the judge. The now fading hickey looks pretty bad to me. So tell me what happened," I say putting my finger under her chin to bring her face back up to meet mine.

"After he had picked me up at the hotel we went back to my place and I told him everything like I promised. But that wasn't enough, he got aggressive and only stopped when I freaked out. That's it."

"No that's not it. Someone needs to teach him a lesson," I hiss

"Christian please don't do anything. Jose's a good guy. Besides I wasn't completely innocent."

"I take it you've forgiven him?

"Yes, I have. This was out of the ordinary for him and considering the situation I had to give him the benefit of the doubt."

"What situation? Is there something else I'm missing?" She pauses. "I ended things with him. I mean our relationship was not a real one so I wanted to go back to being friends."

"Let me guess, he didn't agree? I'll give it to him. I understand not wanting to lose you, but that doesn't give him the right to brutalize you. He doesn't deserve your forgiveness. You're too good Ms. Steele."

"No, I'm not. I just choose to see the best in people. Like you for example. Despite the image, you try to portray Mr. Grey you're a good man. Exhibit A; the young man who held me that night, that sang to me and told me most inspiring words was a kind, gentle and caring. And I still see you as that young man Christian; you're good man and there's nothing you can say or do to convince me otherwise," she says and bites that dam lip

"Don't," I warn

"Too late. To reiterate you can't tell me what to think or how to feel," she says.

"I mean don't bite your damn lip," I say and I put my hand on her chin nudging her lip from between her teeth. "I will always protect you Anastasia but that's all there can ever be between us. How did we go from those two wounded young people to being in bed with each other? I'll never understand"

"That's the magic you're refusing to see. Everything can't be described in black and white; life is made up of shades of gray too."

"I know I'm fifty shades of them." My tone is joking, but I'm dead serious. "I would never forgive myself if anything ever happened to you. That includes at my hand." I push some strands of her drying hair away from her face. The way the moonlight is catching her eyes reminds me of that innocent little girl and I feel guilty that I've taken away that innocence. She leans into my touch and I can't resist stroking her face. "I repeat what are you doing to me?"

"I would like to think the same thing you are doing to me," she says and I pull her flush to my body. I give her a chaste kiss on the top of her head which leads to another peck lower, followed by another even lower and before you know it I'm pushing my tongue into her mouth. I swear my intentional was to hold her, but her scent is so intoxicating to resist. I need to have her again.

"Oh yeah, you're still wet for me." And he continues to let his finger explore down there.

"See how you taste," he says sticking the same finger in my mouth and like a good little girl I suck it. Not exactly thrilled with the idea of tasting myself again, but over the moon about having Christian's finger in my mouth.

"I think I'm jealous of my finger," Christian says pulling his finger back and replacing it with his tongue. First he lets me suck his tongue before taking me into a proper kiss where he plunders my mouth. As he takes everything from me with this kiss, he pushes me flush with the bed and hovers over me.

"Can you handle it again?" Biting my lip I shake my head yes and he lowers himself to me. His body has finally dried from the shower, but it still feels damp from his arousal and his erection is starting to grow. It is hard and soft at the same time as it presses into my stomach. I try hard to summon the control that Christian keeps talking about, but I can't and start undulating below him.

In an attempt to distract myself to help regulate my breathing, I focus on the music in the background. The song is beautiful, but I can't recognize the voice or the song. "Who is singing?"

"No regrets by Edith Piaf," he whispers "It was on when we first entered room

"Really," I giggle.

"Yes, the irony isn't lost on me," he chuckles. "Looks like the playlist is starting to repeat. And as much as I love that sound, I don't want to hear laughter in my bed," he warns and runs his cock along my seam.

"I'm going to fuck you now Ms. Steele." I see that look in her eyes. The same look I saw in India's and I feel compelled to reiterate what I've been telling her. "Nothing has changed Anastasia." And I don't know who I'm trying to convince more me or her.

"Everything has changed Christian. I'm yours. You've taken me places I've never knew existed and I didn't have to leave this bed. You can protest all you want but that Big. Erect. Cock says you want me too," I say and I wrap my hands around his neck pulling him closer for a kiss

"No. No more topping from the bottom I dominate in here. You will do what I say. When I say it and how I say it," he says pulling back from me. His gray eyes are no longer cold and aloof they are hot and smoldering.

"You're playing with fire Anastasia."

"I know, but I'm too helpless to pull my hands away from the flames," I answer honestly. I'm so mesmerized and an enamored by him that I couldn't run if he were a freight train barreling down on me. Surprised by my honesty his expression softens and he releases my wrists.

"I'm going to take you now." And gently he pushes me back against the bed as he pushes into me.

"Are you okay?" He pants. "Fuck you're so tight," he says huskily as he buries his head in my slightly damp hair.

"I'm okay," I breathe out hard and Christian lifts up on his elbows thrusting his hips sending his cock deeper than before. He makes slow, deliberate thrusts as my hips undulate beneath him; I marvel that I can stay in rhythm. I surmise my body is moving on its own accord because my mind is not of this world. It's in heavenly bliss. The pleasure mixed with the pain is overwhelming. Just as I'm about to get comfortable with the rhythm, we've set Christian reaches down taking me into a passionate kiss.

He holds on to my thighs as he rams his cock into me. He keeps up this fast and relentless pace making me moan and cry out in ecstasy. When he slows to rub my clitoris I think I'm going to lose it but Christian talks me through it. Teaching me to absorb the pleasure and not just succumb to it.

"Not yet baby. I need more of you. I'll tell you when," he says with his gaze locked on mine.

In my position, I can't see with my eyes but by his rhythm, I can feel the muscle in his ass flexing with each movement. I also feel his ab because the ripples of the washboard are hitting my flat tummy making me thankful for Shaun T Hip Hop Abs, running and good genes.

I feel Christian hook his arms under my shoulder blades pulling me tighter to him as he whispers in my ear. "Fuck. Baby, you feel so good. Warm. So tight. Its official we fit perfectly." He buries his head in my neck as he plows deeper into me. As if his words are not enough to send me spiraling that thrust almost does.

"Baby you're right. You're mine. And no one touches this but me," he groans and he drives into with full force

"Yes," I breathe because his words are music to my ears.

"Yes, what? Say it," he demands as he flexes his hips pushing deeper into me

"No one but…" Is all I'm able to pant out before I start jabbering some version of his name as another jolt hits me.

"Mine," He grunts and this one word on his lips sound like a symphony to my ears more beautiful than the chords in the background

"You are extraordinary," He whispers and my breath catches.

"Oh, Christian I can't take it," I yell as my back bows from the bed and my head presses deeper into the pillow and I feel my orgasms coming on.

"Come for me Anastasia," He commands but it's not needed. I'm already spiraling.

"Yes. Yes. I. Love. You. Jesus yes Christian I love you." I scream out as my orgasm overtakes me and the tears threatening to come start streaming down my cheeks. I feel Christian tense above me before he leans down taking me into a kiss capturing my cries as I ride out the last of my orgasm. Then he breaks the kiss and takes the pad of his thumb to wipe the tears from cheeks before his body quivers, his orgasm taking over.

"Fuck me." He yells

"Anastasia," He cries out as he lifts up from me and his head falls back. In the throes of passion, he really looks like a Greek God. And it nearly brings me to tears again knowing that this what I do to him.

When he releases all of his cum into me, he collapses and I wrap my arms and legs pulling him closer to me. Yes, I love this man this I know for sure quoting Oprah.

Sated I pull my placid dick out of her and she winces.

"Sorry. I guess it still hurts. Are you okay?" I ask

"Yes. I'm perfect," she says grinning.

"What? I'm funny. You wound me, Ms. Steele." I feign hurt.

"No. Don't be. It was even better the second go around and I didn't think that was even possible. Now I know what the fuss is all about," I say and a nervous chuckle escapes me again.

"Yes. Sex is most excellent. I don't think I could do without it nor would I try," I say before rolling off her to the side next to her.

"Do you want to clean up?" I ask her

"No. I love having your cum running down my legs. It proves it really happened, I only cleaned up the last time because I was in the bathroom." I smile when she says that.

"A girl after my own heart. But I think you will have all the proof you need tomorrow because you will be sore."

"I hope so." Is all she responds? She's a woman after my own heart. If only I had one.

I'm in fucking trouble because that was the best damn sex I've ever had and it was vanilla. And not to mention Anastasia keeps telling me she loves me. She can't love me. I warned her. Let's hope her outburst was a spontaneous reaction to her intercourse induce orgasms.

I sit up and put my arms behind my head in order to have a conversation with her. Ana leans into me and lays her head on my chest. It catches me off guard. I guess this is akin to snuggling after sex something I do not do. But since it's Anastasia it feels nice so I give in and pull my hands back to gently caress her hair.

"Oh gosh, I hate to imagine what my hair must look like," she says reaching a hand up to touch her hair at the same time keeping her head on my chest.

"It's perfect," I say and I reach down kissing her on the top of her head.

"So tell me why you've waited to have sex?"

"Like I said I was waiting for you."

"Seriously Anastasia."

"There was never anyone I was attracted too. I was beginning to think I was frigid."

"Well let me confirm you are not."

"Good. I was worried about disappointing you."

"Never," I say and I close my eyes thinking on the meaning of that one little word "Anastasia?" My voice is calm but stern when I call her name

"Yes," she whispers and her breath blows across my nipples.

"Did you break up with him because of me?" I detest talking about him, but I have to know. I know where her heart is but I need to know where her head is.

"No. I mean kind of but not in the way you think. Our relationship had run its course and I felt if I was thinking about another guy mainly you the decent thing to do was to end it. .."

"Be honest with me. Did he hurt you?"

"Not really. I was able to stop him before he went too far. I was scared because it was so out of character for Jose and I didn't know how far it would go. Hold me please" she whispers and I pull her tighter

"Are you sure he didn't?" I ask as I rest my chin on the top of her head.

"Yes," she confirms.

"Good or I'll break his fucking hands," I say and she relaxes against my chest.

"You're wet," she says and I chuckle

"Good observation. So are you," I say and we sit quietly for a moment holding each other.

"What's the music?" She ask

"It's my IPod. Right now, we're listening to Andrea Bocelli. Not exactly fucking music but in my defense I only intended to shower and change my clothes."

"I like it plus the Edith Piaf song."

"In French it's "Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien," it's one of my favorite song of hers," I say correcting her on the title.

"It's beautiful but sad,"

"Yes, it is. It's an anthem for how I try to live my life with no regrets," I say

"Me too. Am I a regret?" She asks taking me by surprise. I remove my arms and reach around peeling hers from my body. I put my hands under her chin nudging her face up to meet my gaze.

"No," I say but deep down I know it's a lie; however, when I see the relief wash over her face, I no longer regret the lie. Relieved she lays her head back on my chest.

"So did Hogan touch you?" I ask to lighten the mood

"Hogan?" She repeats in a confused tone.

"Yes, Ana. My little cousin that my mother introduced you too. Mia told me all about it," I say reminding her. She may be smart and beautiful, but she can be trying sometimes.

"No. He barely acknowledged me. He was fixated on Lily," she says giggling. Giggling isn't usually a turn of for me but with Anastasia it's hot as hell and doesn't grate on my nerves.

"Good or I would break his hands too."

"Jealous. Careful Mr. Grey I could confuse you for caring."

"Jealous yes. Now that I've had you I don't want anyone else fucking you or touching you for that matter. Caring yes. I've always cared for you but don't confuse this with love Anastasia. Speaking of love we need to talk about what you said," I say my voice now serious and sit up bringing her with me so we're facing each other.

"You can't love me."

"Oh forget you, Grey," she yells as she pulls out of my embrace and jumps out of bed.

"You know what Christian I'm sorry you can't tell people what to think or what to feel; despite what they might've taught you in egomaniac college. I have my own mind, my own heart and that mind is telling that heart that I love you so get over yourself. Now. I'm going to clean up," she shouts before sashaying that pert little ass towards the bathroom and turning me the fuck on.

"Anastasia," I call behind her.

"What Christian? Your ego isn't big enough to keep you company while I'm gone," she seethes before slamming the bathroom door on me yet again. This is starting to get old and she's pissing me the fuck off and damn it if it isn't a turning me on. What I wouldn't give to shove my dick in that smart mouth and fuck it. Ms. Steele has some bite. I'm beginning to miss mute Anastasia.

When Anastasia comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her body, I'm resting by the windows naked with my arms crossed in front of my chest and legs crossed at the ankles. I took the opportunity to go to a spare bathroom and clean up a bit too.

"So have you calmed down?" I ask as I stalk towards her and she spots me in the mirror.

"Stay away from me Grey," she says with very little conviction behind the words.

"I can't do that Anastasia. I want you back in my bed," I say seductively and I pick up my stride.

"No. Why should I?" She asks but it is more of a statement.

"Because I want you." I say and I've closed the distance between us and I'm now standing behind her resting my hands on her shoulders.

"If you want me, it's going to take more than that," she says breathing hard. So I kiss her on the spot at the crook of her neck and she sighs pressing her ass into my front.

"What about that?" I ask huskily

"It's a start," she moans

I smirk and reach around undoing the towel tucked in at her chest letting it fall to the floor. "You drive a hard bargain. But I'm harder," I whisper in her ear-grabbing her hip pulling it against my erection so she can feel how hard it is for her.

"Does that show you how much I want you?" I spin her around to face me and I squeeze her chin rimming her lips with my tongue before I stick it in her mouth claiming it for the umpteenth time tonight. The kiss is hard, deep and ferocious. If I made love to her before, I'm hell-bent on fucking her into next week this time around and this kiss makes my intention known. Kissing her as if my life depended on this one kiss. I walk us backwards until the back of my legs hit the bed at which time I spin us switching our positions. So now Ana's legs are hitting the edge of the bed as I continue squeezing her face keeping our lips locked. My grasp is so tight on her she couldn't move it she wanted to. Content that I've milked her tongue dry I release her face and mouth, causing her to gasp for air. Then I push her gently so she can fall backwards onto the bed where I proceed to flip her on her stomach.

"On your knees Anastasia. You must be sore so I'm going to fuck you from behind." I hear a low moan in her throat and I stick one then two fingers to make sure she's wet for me.

"You're always wet for me. Huh, Anastasia? "I ask huskily as I push my fingers up and in her further.

"Yes," She moans and she bucks her ass. I give it a light swat nothing compared to what I'm capable of.

"What a nice perfect ass Anastasia. One day I'm going to fuck this ass." She lets out an audible gasp. "Don't worry not tonight. Though you deserve it because of your irreverent behavior."

"Irreverent," she calls out in protest.

"Not now Anastasia. Now is not a good time for your smart mouth. I'm going to fuck you now. Hard," I say positioning my cock from behind at her entrance and I slam into her so hard it almost lifts her off the bed. She squeals but I continue pounding into her with all the power my ass can deliver. Whatever heart and flowers she got from our last coupling I want it to be replaced with the carnal ferocious fucking that is Dominant Christian Grey. I want to leave an indelible mark, so that she will forget about love, so she will remember what this night was about; fucking, unadulterated fucking. Fuck me just when I think fucking her can't get any better it does. It feels deeper and tighter this way; she is sucking me in like a vice.

"That's right Anastasia take it. You're mine," I say as I continue my relentless pounding into her. She's crying out some garbled mash up I can hardly make out. But I know she's calling for mercy but I show her none instead I grab a handful of her hair pulling her head back to me as I ride her like a fucking stallion.

"Christian please," she pleads

"Please what Anastasia? Do you love me?" I ask grunting as I slam in and out of her fucking her out of her mind. So hard, my sturdy bed moves from the force.

"Yes," She cries out

"Yes, what Anastasia?"

"Yes I love you," she says confidently

"If you love me then take it. I want you to get on your knees on the floor. So you can suck my dick and let me fuck that smart mouth of yours," I say in my dominant voice as I release her hair and pull out of her. And I step back giving her room to take her position on the floor. When she's in place, I position my cock slick with her juices at her mouth.

"Open Anastasia. See how you taste on my dick," I command and she complies slowly opening her mouth. I'm sure she's pondering the savagery in which I'm treating her. Who says I can't influence what people think and feel.

I can't believe he's asking no demanding this of me. The one thing I would do anything not to do, I'm doing it for him. When I feel his tip on my lips, I realize there's no turning back. I would do anything not to disappoint him so I close my eyes hold my breath open my mouth and let him stick his cock in my mouth. "Yuk," I hate my taste. I hate everything about this. As much as I detest the taste I hate the feel and I hate sucking the most. It brings back such bad memories I want to cry. But I suck it up no pun intended and I go through the motion. Christian moaning his pleasure spurs me on making me want this more and more for him. But when he cups my head pushing me down on him while at the same time pushing his cock further to the back of my throat I almost gag. I'm so thankful he relents and pulls his cock out of my mouth right before I yell out enough.

When I remove my cock, I help her to her feet. I changed my mind something about it was off so this will have to do. I push her back and crawl over her. "I want to make sure you're good and sore tomorrow. Every time you move it will remind you where I've been."

"Yes," she moans and she brings her legs up assuming the position. I grab them pushing them further aside giving me enough room to fuck her at my pace. I put two fingers in checking what I already know. She's wet for me. In such a short time, her body responds to me wholeheartedly.

Wet, panting and ready Anastasia's scent calls to me and I plow into her. I take her hand pulling them above her head as I fuck her hard. She tries to keep up but this time I'm too relentless. I bring my mouth to hers but instead of kissing her I grab that bottom lip she always biting and suck on it before feasting on her mouth.

When I've had enough of biting and sucking her lip, I move my attention to that spot between her legs. As I pump in and out of her, I play with her clitoris.

"Yes," she moans

"Come for me Anastasia," I command and soon we're coming and I pull her close so we can ride out our orgasm together. My plan got foiled, I wanted to pull out and come in her mouth, but it felt too good to do so.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"Yes. Fine time to ask" she says as she closes her eyes. "Exhausted maybe," she says.

"Okay. Stay here let me get a wash clothes to clean you up. "

Despite my plans, I can't help taking care of her. When she's cleaned up, she lies on her side and I lie behind her...yes spooning.

We lay quiet for a moment and I think she's asleep until she pulls my hands to her lips giving them a chaste kiss and slaying me in the process.

"Anastasia. What happened to bring you into our lives that night?" I ask, always curious for the truth. My mom had an idea but never the details. I need to know the truth because it has become my life's goal to destroy any asshole that has hurt her.

"For someone so closed off you're sure talkative tonight."

"Yes, because we didn't tackle this topic full on Saturday and I want to know. I need to know. "I say and she shifts to face me.

"Look Christian I understand and I appreciate your need to slay all my dragons but some dragons are destined to lurk in the shadows and that's okay. I'm fine with them. Please don't make me talk about that part of my past. I don't want it to cloud tonight. It's already a centerpiece of our time together so many years ago don't make it part of our present. I would much prefer talking about when I'm going to see you again? What will we do when I go to Harvard in a couple of weeks? You know mundane topics like those," She says softly as she rubs circles on my hand.

"I don't know those topics don't sound so mundane to me, oddly they seem like relationship questions. But you win Ms. Steele," I say but this doesn't make her happy either.

"Christian I get that you don't do the love thing so you don't have to keep reminding me. Twisting my words and making them about you."

"Okay," I say kissing her on her ear "Remind me why you are going to Harvard in the middle of the semester," I say safely calmly.

"Some special program no big deal," she says downplaying the prestige behind this opportunity

"Very humble Ms. Steele. Okay I won't push you," I say stroking her arm

"Coincidentally one of my security men is there right now finishing up his degree."

"Oh really. You can give me his name. I can look him up and I can have someone I kind of know," she says excitedly.

"There's no way in hell I'm giving you his information in fact I'm not going to tell him about you. Next to my brother he's the biggest man whore in Seattle and he would make it his goal to get in your pants. So the answer is a resounding hell no."

"Wow, do you have trust issues, Grey. He's your employee. Would he try something if he knew my connection to you?" She asks innocently.

"Ana he's a horny as fuck young man and you're a sexy as fuck young woman so no I'm not taking any chances."

"Geez ok just wanted to be neighborly," she says before turning to face me.

"What are you doing to me? I've broken so many rules with you. I fucked you here in my bed. I cuddled with you after sex. We actually had conversations afterwards and I initiated them. Now I'm about to break the final taboo and let you sleep with me," I say taking my fingers pushing her hair from her face. I feel an overwhelming need to kiss her lips swollen from my earlier manipulations. She closes her eyes with anticipation and I gently give her a peck.

"It's good to know I'm not the only one with a first," she giggle and she pulls the palm of my hand to her lips planting a soft kiss on it. The moment so soft, it catches my breath. My feeling catches me off guard leaving me speechless for a moment then I find my voice.

"What's that for?" I question

"A thank you for letting me be your first," she says and a yawn escapes her. "Baby, as much as I find sex with you beyond spectacular. I don't think my body can stand another round and I need my beauty rest. Plus I need to get some sleep so I won't look like a wet noodle when we go to your mother's tomorrow for brunch. But I promise in the morning and the rest of the weekend I will be all yours," she says and she gives me one of her shy smiles.

CPOV

The hits keep coming, she called me baby. I've never had a woman or anyone for that matter call me baby and to my surprise I like it. So much so I want to ask her to say it again but I'm too much of a coward. "By the way I hope you break one more rule," she whispers and bites her bottom lip staring right into my tortured eyes but never revealing the rule.

"If you don't want me to fuck you anymore tonight, don't. Bite. That. Lip," I threaten and I put a hand on her chin nudging her plump bottom lip from between her teeth.

The moonlight is position perfectly over her sleeping form so I sit quietly on my side of the bed simply watching her breath. She looks so young but sexy as hell. It amazes me that she's so unsure of herself and wields so much power over me. I know I'm not the man for her yet I can't, hell I don't want to stay away from her.

A smile crosses my face as she mumbles something ineligible before flipping over to her front shielding her face from me. She's exhausted, of course she is, I was particularly rough with her towards the end. I wanted to give her a glimpse into my dark world so she doesn't walk away with a false sense of what occurred between us. I was hoping to erase the silly notion from her mind that somehow she was in love with me from her brain, but I don't think I was too successful. Her stubbornness won't let her admit to mistaking lust for love.

Her sleep is restless and for a moment I wonder if it has anything to do with me. I was too rough with her in everything. A final toss and her face is now turned towards me and I get to admire her. She's all grown up, but I still see that little girl from that night. She's vulnerable, fragile and like me she still carries the scars from what really haunts her; they may not be visible, but they are there. In sleep, her vulnerability comes through. She needs to feel secure and protected, like that the reality of what I need to do comes crashing down on me like a ton of bricks.

Slowly I move from the bed so I don't wake her with the intentions of going to play another sad lament at my piano to help settle these warring emotions swirling around in my head. Instead, I take a seat in a chair in the corner of the room to continue watching Anastasia sleep. Right now, this is far more soothing to me. Damn she's my kryptonite; unlike any other woman I've met she has the power to destroy me. And if I'm honest I her

Her mahogany hair which has dried is now fanned out on her pillow framing her perfect face against her perfect porcelain skin making her look harmless. But that is far from the truth; her bare shoulders gives just a tantalizing glimpse of the jewel that lies beneath the silken cotton sheets. I watch the sheet rise and fall from her breathing reminding me she's completely naked beneath. It takes all the control I've learned through BDSM and business to restrain myself from waking her up and taking her again.

In the quiet of the night, the rhythm beneath my chest beats for her, but I can't have her. I'm not capable of giving her the one thing she desires the most… love. My eyes fixated on her and my heart beating for her I start singing "You're My Angel", her favorite song but she can't hear me in her sleep. And when I come to the end of the song, I make the only decision I can. I need to take back control and bring this dream to an end. The Harry Winston diamond earrings on the side table are sparkling in the night, but they don't compare to Anastasia and walk quietly to take them in my hand.

"Taylor," I say my voice low as not wake up Anastasia. She was so naive in thinking she could change me and I have to give it to her she came the closest.


	9. Chapter 9: The first cut is the deepest

Chapter 9: The First Cut is the Deepest

**Fifty Shades Of Greys belongs to EL James**

Surrounded by floor to ceiling windows, I can't escape the glaring sunlight. I'm regretting my decision to not let Christian draw the blinds mightily. Last night it felt romantic, this morning not so much. Sitting up I squeeze my eyes closed then open repeating the action until I'm able to get enough sleep out to discern my surroundings. Obviously, I'm in Christian's bedroom, in his bed but where is he is the one hundred dollar question. Panning the room I try to run my hand through my tangled hair and it gets stuck so I mentally kick myself for sleeping with it wet.

I'm disappointed that he's not here, I was really looking forward to waking up to his drop dead gorgeous face and getting more of his sexual expertise. I already knew I was in love with him so sleeping with him only sealed it for me, he made my body soar and heart sing.

"Argh." Stretching the evidence of our coupling is more perceptible. He's right, I am sore. However, it's a pain I welcome. As Christian so arrogantly put it, "it's a reminder of where he's been", and a reminder of what I've given to him. The most revered part of my being, the piece of me that I cherished the most. I'd triumphed in keeping my virginity intact in the face of many of those whose mission was to take it from me, determined to be the one to say when. And In Christian I found my when. In him, I found everything I was looking for and it was more than I'd imagine it would be or could be. The way I feel can best be summed up by India Aria's "Purify Me" and instantaneously I have an overwhelming need to see and touch him. Grinning ear to ear, I call to him. I'm so unbelievably happy, I'm almost singing his name.

"Christian!" Nothing. I call him again. Crickets. After calling out to him for a fourth time, the lyricism disappears and my cries become desperate. And when I'm about to call out again, I spot items on my bedside table and I don't know how I'd not seen them before now. They're in plain sight. My mouth in a ball, nonchalantly I lean over to first pick up the note. Oblivious, I innocently I start to read it, but a sense of foreboding envelops me; as soon as, I see my name. My hands start shaking, anxiety consumes me and tears start to build and all I've read thus far is Anastasia.

_Anastasia,_

_I'm sorry I'm not there to see you in all your morning glory. Last night was unexpected and it's all I'm capable of giving right now. I agonized over how to deliver this message to you and decided that this was the best way. Face to face would only serve to make matters worse for both of us. I so wanted to be the man you see, but I'm not. Please understand. Along with this note, you will find a few other things I want you to keep._

_*You wore the diamond earrings so well, it's as if they were made for you._

_*A pendant, a reminder of how special you really are. _

_* An envelope with $10,000 to help you with expenses while at Harvard. If you need more money for school, please follow up with Taylor._

_* Finally you will find an NDA to sign. No explanation needed, but if you have questions Taylor can answer them for you. This is another the rule I broke with you. I should've had you signed it as soon as we came back to Escala. _

_I've already notified my mother that I won't be at brunch because of an unexpected business trip. I'll leave it up to you to decide if you want to attend or not. Reynolds is at your disposal, he can take you anywhere you want to go._

_Seeing that you don't have much that is fit to wear, I had Taylor pick some things up for you. The bag is at the foot of the bed. Ms. Jones, my housekeeper, is also available to you as is Taylor. If you forgo brunch at my parents, Ms. Jones will make you anything you want for breakfast. _

_Good luck at Harvard,_

_Christian Grey_

The dread was a predictor of what was to come. By the time I get to the end of the hellish note, the paper is soaked. The words are barely legible they are so smeared from the uncontrollable tears streaming down my face to the crisp ivory stationary. My hands are shaking so feverishly, the paper is making an audible sound from the vibration the shaking is making. In front of me, I set the quivering paper down on the sumptuous duvet that is almost like a cloud it's so fluffy and soft. And if my heart weren't busy shattering into a million little pieces, maybe I could luxuriate in it. My shoulders shudder and I bring my quaking hands to my face, as I succumb to the pain. A guttural howl is the sound that leaves my body I'm sobbing so hard. It hurts so devastatingly bad. I've suffered through a lot in my young life and I'd like to think I can take a lot, but this pain is too searing to bare. I lost my virginity to a man who doesn't love me, and thinks so little of me he left me in his bed without so much of a personal goodbye. I didn't expect much, but I expected better than this.

When I'm physically unable to cry anymore, a gluten for punishment I move on to the other items on the table, starting with the velvet black box from last night. In light of the situation the diamonds have lost their luster and they no longer sparkle. Even the sunlight can't restore their brilliance. Letting the box clamp shut, I set it back on the table moving to the familiar Tiffany blue one. Unaware of its content, cautiously I lift the lid as if I'm expecting a cobra to strike at any moment. Despite my concerns the content is far from sinister, it's a necklace. Platinum I assume, seeing it's from Christian. Taking it out, I lay the delicate piece across my palm inspecting the subscription on the pendant.

"Extraordinary", is simply engraved on the front, the back reads "Raising the ordinary". The piece is beautiful and the sentiment could've been heartwarming, but in his absence it means nothing. If anything I think it's cruel. Irate, I toss the piece as hard as I can, but it falls well short of the wall. And in a sweeping motion, I angrily knock the box to the floor before I bring my hands back to my face.

Somewhat in control of my emotions, I pick up the dreaded NDA. My hands are still shaking so I have to use both to hold the document steady. I peruse it, before politely tearing it in half. The audacity of him asking me to sign such a thing is laughable. As if I would want to tell anyone of my humiliation. He takes my virginity only to treat me like a common whore by throwing money and trinkets at me and I'm the one asked to sign a piece of paper. Sure I offered it up to him on a silver platter and I didn't expect forever. However, I didn't know the next morning was off the table too.

To his credit, he'd told me, but I'd refused to believe that he was anything less than the man I had fallen in love with. It's beyond me that I could've been so misguided. After years of priding myself on my maturity and good decision-making skills, in the last week I've exhibited neither. Making one bad decision after another and managing to look like a tempestuous teenager at the same time.

The envelope is taunting me from the table, so stretching I snatch it so I can remove the wad of cash to toss in the air and wash it rain. The hundreds fall like oversized confetti over me, the bed, the floor, and any other surface of the room it comes in contact. Sadly it brings me no comfort. I've taken my frustration out on everything and none of it has mended the fragile shards of my shattered heart. So out of things to throw across the room, toss in the air, and tear in half, I'm left only with my feelings. But the emotions are too raw and I'm not ready to deal with them. I've dreamed of the idea of him for so long, I don't know how to come to terms with the reality of the man. A man in his truest form, but at his essence he's deity to me and in all honesty I'd known I was not fit to breathe his rarefied air. But in my naiveté, I'd hope the offering of my body, heart and soul would be enough to allow me favor.

Memories of my first orgasm and all the others that followed flood my mind; last night was the single best night of my life to only come to an end worthy of Shakespeare. My chest feels like it's going to explode, the heartache is so intense. I want to blame him, be mad at him, but he warned me. The great Maya Angelou once said, "When people tell you who they are believe them". I should have believed him. But I wanted him so badly and loved him so much the consequences be damned. Now the devil is here to collect his due and my only wish is that he makes it quick because I want to die and follow him to the depths of hell. It has to be better than living here on earth in this much pain without Christian. He said I would get burn, then let me burn in hell. It's no less than I deserve from my brazen behavior in the way I threw myself at him. I acted without moral or self- respect so it's hypocritical of me to expect him to treat me with any.

Heaving, I vow to move forward from this and from him. My hands trembling, I throw the exceedingly expensive sheet back and I gasp at the bloody patch greeting me like a kick in the stomach from my conscious. Another sad reminder of my lost virginity glaring at me. Intentionally I bite my bottom lip as I proceed to throw my legs over the side of the bed. With my knuckles rooted on either side of me on shaky arms, I push myself up to stand on even shakier legs. As I try to steady my wobbly legs, the soreness Christian so bragged about becomes even more apparent. But I do my best to ignore it as I take my first steps, figuratively and literally towards reclaiming the little self-worth I had.

I mentally chastise myself. For 17 years, my virginity was the jewel, in my rusted crown. And so easily, I stupidly gave it to a man who by his own admission isn't capable of more than a good fuck. Darn, I hate saying that word, but in the end that's all I was for him. The thought is so repugnant I have to rush to the bathroom to throw up the contents of my empty stomach.

Wiping my mouth I get my first glimpse of the post-sexual Ana and I don't recognize the reflection in the mirror. It's haunting. She's a stranger staring back at me. And it has nothing to with the frayed hair, red-rimmed eyes, swollen lips and blotchy skin, but everything to do with all I sacrificed to be with him. The contours of my face are there, but I don't see me anymore. I see any young woman with a story to tell of her lost virginity. I'm just a number nothing special. My virginity was the only thing I had that made me special.

Despondent, somehow I make it to the shower. Turning on the water, I stand stalk still while the powerful shower head rains water over me. Soon I collapse to the floor under the burden of all that I've lost. Exhausted, weary, and shriveled, I pull myself up from the tiled floor, abandoning the notion of actually washing myself. Instead, I choose to get dressed and getting as far away from his cold ivory tower as possible.

A fluffy towel wrapped around me my eyes roam the room as I contemplate what to wear. Do I wear the clothing Christian bought for me that feels too much like another payment for services rendered or my outfit from the gala? Clearly the gala dress is inappropriate so I need another plan fast because I'm not wearing his clothing. So I walk to a button on the wall sending up a silent prayer that it's an intercom and Saint Peter is smiling on me after all, because it is.

"Ms. Steele."

"Mr. Taylor. I have a favor to ask."

"What can I help you with?"

"Hmmm" I stutter

"Wait Ms. Steele I'll have you talk to Ms. Jones, Mr. Grey's housekeeper. Maybe you will feel more comfortable talking to a woman," he says and I hear some mumbling before Ms. Jones gets on the line.

"Hi, Ms. Jones. This is going to sound weird but can I borrow something from you to wear?"

In hindsight that probably wasn't the best decision, but good decisions seem to be eluding me of late. At least Ms. Jones was nice and didn't make me feel uncomfortable about the whole thing. Peeking down at the towel covering my body, I decide donning a robe would probably be more appropriate, so I rush to the bathroom to grab a robe from the stainless steel peg. And I make it back to the bedroom just as Ms. Jones is entering. For the most part, Ms. Jones does a good job hiding her dismay at the mess I've made, but her eyes give her away.

"Sorry. I'll clean it up," I say nervously, as I gather some of the bills in my hand.

"Nonsense I'll take care of it." She smiles. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Steele," she says eyeing the cash speculatively.

"Don't ask," I say as I shove the money in the pockets of the robe.

"I didn't plan too." She winks. "But, looking at you. My dear, you are not a size 8 so my clothing will not fit. But you're in luck. Mr. Grey's sister Mia keeps some clothing here and she's more your size. So I'll go select a few pieces for you to choose from," she says before quickly leaving.

She has at least three outfits in her hands when she comes back and I jump up from the bed to help her. Unfortunately, this confirms what happened in here last night. The sign of my lost virginity is again front and center and I feel compelled to say something.

"Well this is embarrassing," I sigh.

"It shouldn't be. This is Mr. Grey's private space and what he goes in here is his business. He's very protective of his privacy and so am I," she says professionally.

"I know, but I'm not proud…" My voice cracks as I try to get the rest out and Ms. Jones reaches over to take my hand in hers.

"I'm not here to judge. My instructions were to take care of you and give you whatever you need. So that's what I'm doing, making sure you have what you need. So tell me what do you need?" Her tone is so soothing and motherly I start blathering as the dam opens again. She drops my hand to pull me into an embrace and I really start blubbering.

"Sweetheart, don't cry. Things are never as bad as we think they are. Whatever you're feeling now, I promise in a few days or a month from now it won't have quite the same sting," she coos as she rubs circles on my back. "Come on let's sit down." And she leads me to the edge of the bed.

"I wanna die," I sob as I rest my head on her shoulder.

"Oh no you don't," she says forcefully nudging my head off her shoulder so she can take face my between her two fingers. "Look at me. You are too young to think those words less more utter them. I know Mr. Grey and he's a good man. The closest thing to a son, I will ever have, but he's not worthy of your life. No man is. You know what they say the first cut is always the deepest, but the pain will subside. You're so young, you may have to kiss a lot of frogs…" Sniffling I interrupt her.

"What if I've already kissed the prince?" I hiccup.

"That's not what I was going to say. I was going to say until you find the right one but if it's a prince you want. Luckily, there's more than one kingdom," she says deadpan releasing my face to use her fingers to wipe my cheeks. "I think this is a conversation you should have with your mother," she says softly as she wipes the last of my tears.

"I don't have a mother. I mean she abandoned me years ago." And I see her shoulders drop.

"Well, that's her loss. I've known you for all of the 15 minutes and I think you're pretty special," she says pulling me to her and pushing me back just as quickly. "I have the perfect remedy to make you feel better. My gingerbread pancakes with warm berry compote." She gives me a warm smile to rival Dr. Grace's.

"That sounds really good actually, but I'm going to the Greys for brunch. I should've told you sooner."

"I think Jason mentioned it, but I forgot. So tell you what I'll make you something small to tide you over until brunch. When this hurts here." She rests a palm on my chest over my heart. "You need something warm in here to make it feel better." And she moves her hand to my stomach. "So let me go get things ready while you get dressed," she says before standing. I watch her step around the money and she bends down to pick the necklace up from the floor before exiting.

"Are sure you don't want to keep this?" She asks holding up the pendant.

"Yes" is my one-word response.

She reads the inscription, before clasping it in her fist, "Okay then," she says and she takes a few steps before stopping again. "Ms. Steele..."

"Call me Ana please," I correct her.

"Ana it is then. I'm going to give you my number so if you need to talk, please call me. I don't care what time it is. Sometimes we all need a safe place to fall." Her voice is soft and sincere.

"Thank you for being so nice to me," I sniffle.

"You make it easy." And she closes the door.

"Everyone look who I found," Dr. Grace calls to Elliot and Mr. Grey when we enter the family room and the two men end their conversation. "It's our guest of honor and she's bright-eyed and bushy-tailed," she gushes as she leads me to the sofa. "At least somebody didn't get drunk," she says sarcastically.

"Hi Ana," Elliot says as he walks up to give me a kiss on the cheeks. "So my brother isn't coming? What's up with that?" He whispers so only I can here and I give him a tight smile but not an answer. So I'm elated when Mr. Grey walks up giving me an out.

"Hello, Anastasia. Thank you for coming," he says offering me a handshake instead of a hug. He's standoffish like his son.

"Have a seat dear brunch will be served shortly. Unfortunately, our guest list has dwindled. Of course Christian won't be here, he called to say he had an unexpected business meeting and you would understand." She looks directly at me when she says the last part. And I'm glad to be near the sofa; in case, my knees buckle under the pressure of having to provide his family with an explanation. I swallow hard but say nothing doing my best not to give anything away though I feel all eyes are on me analyzing my every movement.

"Anastasia are you alright? You look pale," Mr. Grey says as he helps me take my seat on the sofa.

"Yes. I'm fine. I just swallowed something wrong," I say fanning myself.

'Are you sure you're alright," Dr. Grace says rushing to my side. "Maybe some water will help?"

"Mom I think Ana's fine. Why don't you give her some space?" Elliot places his hands on her shoulders moving her aside. By the way he's looking at me, I can tell he knows there something up with Christian and me.

"Alright Elliot I get it," she says and walks away.

"I'll take some water," I say and Dr. Grace happily pours me a glass.

"Ana, Elliot, was just telling us that your friend Katherine won't be making it either," Mr. Grey says

"Yeah Kate had too much to drink and could barely pick her head up off the pillow. She said she knows the story and what she misses you can fill her in later," Elliot jokes and I give him a nervous smile. This explains why I haven't heard from her. Thank heavens for small favors.

"Where's Mia?" I ask

"I'm afraid she's suffering from the same ailment as Ms. Kavanagh but she should be down shortly," Mr. Grey responds.

"I'm right here dad," Mia says picking up a mimosa from the tray as she drags herself into the room looking less than her cheerful and well put together self from last night.

"So where's everyone?" She asks looking around the room. "Especially Christian. I thought he would've brought you here himself." She sips her drink putting me on the spot. Think Ana. Think.

"He would've, but I guess he had a meeting he couldn't cancel," I say being forthcoming yet not giving anything away. I'm thankful when Dr. Grace intervenes recounting the story of our missing guests.

"Oh yeah, I forgot Brad's won't be coming either. He had to go back to Princeton to get ready for this big medical test," Mia says bringing her drink back to her mouth.

Then I hear Elliott mumble under his breath "who cares," but I think I was the only one who heard. Then a staffer walks in announcing that brunch is ready. In a line, we follow her into the elegant dining room.

"So Ana I'm sorry you missed the after party last night," Mia says pulling out her chair.

"Ana dear I forgot to ask since this is the first I've seen of you or Hogan. Did you two make a connection?" Dr. Grace asks, following up on her matchmaking attempt.

"Mom please tell me you didn't?" Mia's voice drops an octave as she tries to admonish her mother. "Hogan was all over Lily. Leave these things to me next time," Mia says shaking her head.

"Yeah, mom I think you're barking up the wrong tree for our little Ana here. You need to aim higher," Elliot teases and winks at, but I glare at him.

"Ana what are you doing after this?" Mia ask.

"I'm going back to Portland. A group I volunteer with called me in." Its scary how easy lying is becoming for me.

"Does Kate know about this?" Elliott ask.

"No, we haven't spoken this morning and now that I know her problem I understand why," I say. Elliot starts to speak and I'm thrilled when Mr. Grey calls an end to all conversation for the prayer.

Immediately following the prayer, we dig into the big spread Gretchen has laid out on the table for us. Every breakfast meat imaginable, eggs, waffles, and fresh fruit to name a few of the selections. As we eat, I add more details to the sorrowful story of my life. Mia and Elliott freely admit they have no recollection of me from that night. At the time neither were particularly interested either, seeing that Christian was the one who was handed picked for the task of working with me.

On a normal day, I'm uncomfortable with people gushing about my academic accomplishments, so given my melancholy, hearing it today is downright agony. However, as difficult as it is, for them I summon the strength to pretend to care until I can't do it anymore and I move the conversation to my least favorite topic, homelessness. Dr. Grace is so moved to tears, I have to stop frequently to give Mr. Grey time to console her.

"None of this would have happened, if only they'd allowed us to adopt you," Dr. Grace sniffles, reminding me that if the stars had aligned properly, I would be a proud member of the Grey clan by now. Before last night, the thought was gratifying, now it feels incestuous. So much so, I want to empty my stomach for a second time today. Luckily the bile stays down and Dr. Grace ends the discussion so the two of us can go for a walk on the grounds.

Her arms wrapped around my shoulders, and mine around her waist we walk in silence until we reach the dock area.

"I remember the first day we brought the kids from the center to the house. Everyone ran to the myriad of playground equipment we had set up, but not you. You came here straight away and it's where you spent most of the day. Do you remember that?" She asks as we come to a stop in front of a bench. Dropping our arms we take a seat and I look out on the tranquil water.

"Not really," I say giving her an apologetic smile.

"I'm not surprised. I think it was only a few days after you were removed from your home. Anyway, it was my first time seeing you and I immediately knew I wanted you in our family. I envisioned you and Mia playing together. She would have a sister to bond with like her big brothers had each other," she says giving me a beaming smile.

"That sounds nice. I think I would've liked that." My voice is small and my words tentative.

"Darling girl are you okay? You seem different. More reserved."

"Yes. Just tired, the last few days have been overwhelming and I think it's starting to catch up with me."

"I can understand that. Coincidentally Christian sounded a little off when I spoke to him this morning. Do you know anything about that?" She asks and my stomach does an acrobatic flip at the question. It feels like she's testing me out. The notion that she may know about us makes me ill.

"No. I was asleep when he left…" I cringe at my response and inwardly chastise myself for giving so much away.

"Dear girl, you don't have to blush every time you talk about my son or at the mention of his name. I'm well aware of his swoon worthiness." She gives the smile of a proud mother. "Seriously, I'm glad you two got some alone time so I was thrilled he took you home. I'm just sorry that he couldn't be here this morning. But it also means that I get more of you to myself." She smiles pulling me to her side. "So you stayed up late talking huh?" The question is innocent, but my guilt twists it.

"Yes, we did," I say hesitantly as I try to discern if there's a hidden agenda behind her question. Is it her way of asking me if I slept with her son. Alas, I relax when see nothing questionable in her expression.

"Good. He needed it," she says

"Why?" Now I'm curious

"What happened to you, hit him particularly hard. I know he projects this steely persona, but he's a sensitive young man. And I'm confident I wouldn't be breaking his confidence if I told you he didn't have an easy start in life." She pauses and I swallow hard at her words. He's told me as much, but hearing it from her has added another layer of sadness.

"Yes he has, but not in many details."

"Of course not, he's very protective of his privacy and he keeps his feeling close to the vest…he's closed off. Actually the most open I've seen him is around you." She gives me a closed mouth smile. "That night of the Gala, when he first interacted with you was the first time I held my son and I have you to thank for it. So I will always be grateful to you my darling girl," she sniffles as tears again beckon.

"And what else makes you think he's so much different when I'm around?" I've become the instigator, trying to gather clues in hopes of finding out what makes the enigmatic Christian Grey tick. And maybe derive some insight into what's playing out between us.

"Last night at the gala for example. In all the years of the event, I've never seen Christian work the room. Actually socializing and dancing. It made my heart sing to see him participating in his life and not just be a bystander. And I have a feeling that it was because of you. You can't see it because you don't know him the way I do. But in the short time I can already see the positive impact you're having on him so thank you for giving me my son back a second time. I can see the twinkle in his eyes. "

"I Think you give me too much credit," I say humbly. Her perspective on the evening is so different from mine and even Christian's.

"I don't think so, I know my son and the difference in him when you're around is like night and day," she says and I decide to accept her gratitude.

"I should get going. Reynolds has to drive me to Portland and drive back," I say as I start to get up from the bench.

"Okay, but promise me you'll be back soon. And please don't worry about the money. I will have Christian send one of his various toys to pick you up or I'll pick you up myself," she says taking my hand in hers.

"I definitely I want too, but I don't know how soon considering that I'll be back East for a while."

"Yes and I'm so proud of you. I will love to visit you at Harvard if you don't mind seeing an old woman."

"That would be great and you're not old," I say and she pulls me into an embrace.

"Thank you for the compliment I walked you into. Now tell me about your stepfather," she says pushing out of the embrace and taking my hand. "We'll walk and talk at the same time."

"Ray. " I pause to think how to describe Ray. "He's quiet. A gentle giant. Over the years, he has provided for my physical needs, but emotionally he's distant and I think it has a lot to do with my mother. She hurt him deeply and I think he's still trying to get over that pain. But to me he will always be my hero because he wanted me when my own mother didn't," I say and I can't keep the tears from falling.

"Come here sweetie," she says stopping to pull me into her chest. "Do you want to talk about your mother?" She asks tilting down to look at me.

"No. She doesn't deserve any more of my breath."

"Okay. What about what caused you to be taken from her care?" She asks and I nudge out of the embrace.

"I hope you don't mind if I respectfully decline."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry. I just hate that you seem…" She hesitates thinking on her words.

"Adrift," I say

"What?" She asks confused.

"I think the word you were searching for to describe me is adrift."

"Well it's not the word, but it's an interesting one. Care to elaborate?" She asks

"There's not much to say really. I'm confused. It's all so confusing," I say.

"Now I'm confused. You're out of sorts. Are you sure you don't want to spend the night? I could take care of you. A night of being taken care would do you a world of good," she says

"Maybe, but this not my life. And what I need now is to get back to my life."

"Why so cynical all of a sudden Anastasia? Something is off so I insist that you stay with us. Seeing that Christian is out of town and Kate and Elliot are discovering each other, staying here is the logical option." Right on time we come to a stop in front of the property and I can see Reynolds waiting in front of the Limousine for me. So we drop our hands to face each other.

"Never mind me. Kate can contest that on too little sleep I'm cranky and I say things that make no sense," I say reassuring her.

"Okay, but please call me when you get home." And she pulls me in for the millionth embrace of the day. "Please take care of yourself."

Soon as Reynolds closes my door and walks to his side, I hear banging and I look over to see Elliot at the window.

"Reynolds give me a moment so I can talk to Elliot," I say through the privacy glass.

"Nice try. I know you're trying to get away from me. But what's up with you and my brother? I mean I know you spent the night with him and he doesn't show up to your celebration brunch? What gives?" He asks soon as the rear window is lowered.

"There's nothing to talk about Elliot. Like your mother said Christian had to go out of town."

"Bullshit. But if that's how you want to play it. I'll talk to you later," he say hitting on the car as he steps back and Reynolds puts up my window.

Without Kate, the limousine feels like a cavernous box on wheels. A ping of loneliness and sadness hits me so I reach for my phone and I run through the names on my directory. I see his name and I let my finger hover over it and my breath gets lodged in my throat. I want to call him, but I know it's a bad idea. If he wanted to talk to me, he would have waited for me. Thankfully my brain prevails and I call my guardian angel the original target. Since I ran away from foster care, she's been there for me and remains a central guiding force in my life. Though we're close in age over the years, she's become my de facto guardian.

"Snow," she answers the phone and I giggle. This is her pet name for me and she refuses to drop it.

"Hi, Lulu. I didn't expect you to pick up. You're always traveling to an exotic location and can't be reached."

"Well your timing is perfect I'm settled for a few days. So kiddo what's up? By the break in your voice, I can tell something is wrong."

"You know no me so well." And I tell her about last night leaving out information that would lead to Christian. Though I didn't sign the NDA, I intend to follow the spirit of it.

"So my little Snow is finally a woman," she says

"I guess. I don't feel that different, except for a broken heart."

"This is my fault in a way. While I've always been honest with you about life's hard knocks, I've allowed you to believe in fairy tales and happily ever after. I'm sorry you had to find out the hard way that life doesn't work out the way it does in those romantic books you read. Of course, this guy seems like a real jerk and if I were there I would castrate him. What's his name again?"

"I never said it."

"Come to think of it, you haven't said much about him."

"I can't and I can't lie to you. He had me sign something..."

"A NDA," she says interrupting, "so he's powerful?"

"I guess you can say that. So you're familiar with an NDA."

"Ana in the lifestyle I'm in and with the men I deal with an NDA is second nature."

"Yeah, I forgot about that."

"Please, tell me he's not into BDSM?"

"Oh God no. I promised you I would never get involved in that lifestyle. And no offense but it's not my thing."

"No offense taken. You know how I feel about it. I've worked too hard to make sure you have a normal life. I just want you to be safe and happy. Look, I have to go but I will check on you later but call me if you need me," she says

Soon as I wrap my call with Lulu, I see a call from Kate coming through.

"What the hell Ana?"

"Hi, Kate."

"Don't Hi Kate me. What the hell is going on with Christian?"

"He left okay," I shout. "Is that what you want to hear? He left me sleeping in his bed, with just a note," I sob

"Oh Ana, I'm so sorry. Bastard. I want you to know he's not picking up calls from anyone in his family. Now I know why. He's running. Coward," she hisses.

"I don't care. I just want to get as far away from Seattle as I can."

"Good. I will get Elliot to bring me home. Then I'm going to kill you for not calling me right away."

"Thank you Kate, but I don't want to ruin your weekend. If you want to help, stay in Seattle and enjoy yourself."

"Seriously. How the hell do you think I can enjoy myself when I know you're suffering?"

"Kate, please. I need to be alone."

"Okay, but call me as soon as you get home."

The Portland skyline greets me and I expected to feel different. Foolishly, I thought once I got some distance from Seattle the pain would lessen...no such luck.

Reynolds walks me up to the door of my apartment and I have to wait outside while he secures the premises.

"All clear. You can come in now," he says holstering his gun and waving me in. "If that's all I'm leaving. Please make sure you lock the door behind me," he commands and I nod my head as I keep one hand on the door knob. Watching him leave I push the door closed so I thought but apparently I leave it ajar so Jose easily walks in without me knowing.

My back to the door, standing in front of the couch, I start to unbutton my shirt and I hear him.

"You were with him," he snarls and I spin around coming face to face with a furious Jose.

"Jose how did you get in here?"

"Never mind. I saw the limo. You were with Grey?" He asks angrily as he steps closer to me and I take a step back mindful that the sofa is behind me. If I thought Saturday's outburst was scary, this is downright terrifying.

"Jose..."

"Don't fucking Jose me," he growls interrupting me as he reaches for my wrists. I flinch holding my arms up in a defensive posture, but this only makes it easier for him to grab them.

"You don't have to tell me. I smell him on you. You let him fuck you. One night and you let him fuck you. Years and a commitment and the closest I get is a feel over your pants," he spits out. "Well, congratulations you just became a number. The number of whores Christian Grey has fucked on his way to finding a real lady," he seethe as he squeezes my wrists.

"Let me go," I squeal.

"How does it feel?" He screams. He's squeezing my wrists so tightly my feet almost leave the floor and all I can do is cry and plead with him. Ironically he doesn't realize the truth behind his words. They sting more than the tightening of his hands around my wrists.

"Huh Ana," He shouts and I turn my face away from him. "Answer me," he taunts me with his fury. His eyes bulge and spit is leaving his mouth when he yells. His rage is worse than Saturday. "Stop the crying and stop giving me that look. I'm not going to rape you. You're not worth it. In the end you're just like the rest of them," his voice drops and I hear disappointment behind the anger.

Out of nowhere Reynolds comes up behind Jose taking him by surprise causing him to releases my wrists and it sends backwards to the sofa. Then I scramble to my feet to keep Reynolds from pummeling Jose.

"Let him go," I yell hysterically and Reynolds lets him up.

"I was leaving," he says to Reynolds "You can have the whore," he say and he spits in my direction. I see Reynolds about to tackle him again and I run between them pleading with Reynolds to just let him go.

"Ms. Steele are you okay?" He asks looking at my wrists that are starting to bruise. "Do you need me to take you to the hospital? We need to call the police."

"No, I'm fine. No hospital and definitely no cops. I can imagine what it looked like because it felt scary to me, but Jose is harmless. He's hurt and he's acting out. I understand that more than he knows." I assure Reynolds and I feel like I've been making excuses for Jose all week. "Besides what am I going to tell the Police he insulted me? I can't even get him on deformation because he's not lying," I say and unsure of how to respond Reynolds stands to his feet.

"Okay. But I have to call Taylor," he says and I sit on the sofa trying to contain my tears as he gets Taylor on the phone.

"Ms. Steele Taylor would like to talk to you," he says handing me the phone.

"Mr. Taylor," I say

"I'm checking to make sure you're okay. Plus Gail is right here and she's anxious to talk to you.

"Ana. Are you sure you're okay? I understand he said some pretty nasty things so I wanted to make sure you were alright emotionally; as well, as physically. He didn't hurt you did he?" Ms. Jones ask in that motherly tone I've gotten accustomed to.

"No, I'm fine. A little shaken up but fine. Jose is acting out so I don't expect any further trouble out of him," I say unconvinced by own words.

"Okay. But if you need to talk please call me. I'll give you back to Jason now," she says

"Ms. Steele. I understand that you do not want to press charges, but I will need to inform Mr. Grey."

"If you must," I say resigned to the fact that I won't be able to change his mind and I give the phone back to Reynolds.

"I will lock the door myself this time. Taylor has also instructed me to hang around for a little bit making sure your Ex doesn't show up again. Oh yeah, I almost forgot the bag you left in the back of the limo is by the door. The reason I came back here in the first place. "

"Thanks Heaven for dirty clothes," I joke looking at the bag at the door.

RPOV

"Jason."

"Ryan. Is everything alright with Ms. Steele?" He asks anxiously

"Yes, sir. I'm in the limo outside her apartment, but I wanted to discuss something with you. I'm probably out of place, but I feel I'm obligated to bring this to your attention."

"Damn Ryan, can you please stop talking like a fucking FBI agent and get to the point," Taylor shouts.

"Yes, sir. Ms. Steele looks very young to me." I pause. "I mean really young, as in under 21. I thought it before, but it became clearer to me just now. Maybe it's because she was in a vulnerable state, but her youthfulness stood out like a sore thumb," I say holding my breath waiting Taylor to respond.

I'm smart enough not to say it out loud, but its obvious Mr. Grey slept with Ms. Steele. And apparently it went very wrong. So I'm just hoping young Ms. Steele doesn't try to seek revenge against the boss.

"Ryan, I appreciate your concerns and thank you for bringing it to my attention. However, you've worked long enough for Christian Grey and me for that matter to know we're nothing but thorough. So you have nothing to worry about it and if I were you I wouldn't bring this up again."

"Of course sir."

"Good. Now I want you to stay in front of Ms. Steele's until morning," Taylor commands and I loosen my jacket and tie in the preparation of a long night.

Showered, relaxed and dressed in my comfiest pajama, I sit on my bed. Leaning down I reach under the bed for my keepsake box. When I have it in my hand, I cross my legs under me and set the box on my lap. Inspecting the lid, it's like my first time seeing it. Taking into account everything that has transpired with Christian and me it looks different, the lettering even feels different to the touch. So I'm relieved when I raise the top, and the contents are the same and familiar to me. He's taken away so much from me, I can't let him take away my memories too. Tears trickling down my cheeks, I lean down shoving the box back under the bed. When I bring my head up, my phone minding its own business on the bedside table catches my attention.

So I pick it up and it feels like an anvil in my hand. My mouth dry, palms clammy and heart racing I stroll until I find his number. The universe is telling me it's a bad idea, but I let my finger linger over it for a fraction before I lower it letting it come in contact with the surface of the iPhone. And I close my eyes, hold my breath as I send the first shot across the bow.

To keep my already shattered heart from splintering, I set my expectations low. Convincing myself hearing his voice greeting would be enough to satisfy me, knowing full well he may not answer my call. But like everything else today, it doesn't go the way I predicted at all. On the final ring, he accepts the call. I hear his controlled breathing on the other end, and I audibly gasp immediately bringing a hand to my mouth to hide any further embarrassing sounds.

My hand over my mouth, a lump in my throat, tears trickling down my face, and my heart beating at an alarming rate, I wait for him to say something. But he doesn't and neither do I. Except for his controlled breathing and the soft whimpers that escape through my fingers there are no other sounds. I don't know how long I'm expected to play the waiting game, but it's too gut wrenching. So grunting my frustration, I hurl the phone across the room before collapsing onto the bed in tears. The phone and I collide with our intended targets at the same time.

"Whoa Tiger," I hear and turn to see Kate at the threshold of my door.

"Oh Kate, I'm sorry," I say when I see her bending to pick up the phone.

"You just missed me. Good thing I had time to sober up on the ride here. Otherwise this," she holds up the phone, "would have made contact with my head instead of the door."

"Wait a minute what are you doing here? I told you to stay in Seattle," I say as I furiously wipe the water from my face.

"Did you really think I would leave you here to suffer on your own? Come on now, you're my girl." And she rushes across the room flinging herself on the bed.

"Thank you," I snivel, as I bury my face in the crook of her neck.

"You're welcome. Elliot is in the living room. He wants to talk to you," she says as she rubs my back.

"Kate, sorry but I don't feel like it right now," I sniffle.

She releases me and pushes back on my shoulders, "Don't apologize. I understand. I'll let him know." And she gets up from the bed.

In a ball laying on my side, I hear the door open when Kate reenters the room. "What did he say?" I ask keeping my back to her as she lifts the covers, sliding in behind me.

"He understands and he wants you to know he's not his brother," she sighs. "By the way, why is Reynolds parked in front of our apartment? Reluctantly I give her the rundown on Jose. "Ana I'm worried he's escalating," she says resting a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't be, but just in case I'm going to do my best to keep my distance from him. So can we not talk about it anymore tonight?"

"Okay, but I'm still worried. I'll move on to my next favorite person then…Lulu. Have you spoken to her?"

"Yes, I did."

"So is she coming to see about you?"

"Kate please I really don't want to have this discussion either. It will only cause a fight," I say as I shift to face her and she slides down under the covers to meet me.

"Okay." Is her one-word answer and the room fills with the sound of familiar words from earlier today?

"Look at my Pandora and let me know who's singing this song."

"I don't have to, it's Sheryl Crowe, 'The First Cut Is The Deepest'. I'm surprise you've never heard it. It's pretty old now," she says.

"I have, but it never resonated with me; however, now the words are very apropos."

"It's going to get better you know," Kate says softly as she pushes back some loose tendrils from my face.

"That's what I've heard." And I lay my head on her chest as the song continues to play.

The first cut is the deepest.

The first cut is the deepest.

But when it comes to being lucky he's cursed. When it comes to loving me

He's worse.

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. Please review


	10. Chapter 10 I can't make you love me

Chapter 10: I can't make you loving me

**FSOG belongs to EL James**

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"Hi El, come on in."

"How is she?"

"As good as can be expected, considering what your asshole brother has put her through. She didn't sleep at all. I was in the bed with her, and she cried all night."

"Damn, if things weren't so messed up, that would have to be the hottest thing I've heard in a long time."

""Elliot." I hear Kate scold him for the crude comment, but he redeems himself by showing her what he brought for breakfast.

I'm not amused by their conversation, it's making me angry hearing them talk about me like I'm dead or worse non-existent. And if I weren't too emotionally traumatized, I would do something about it. I'm exhausted from a lack of sleep because he invades my dreams and nightmares. But being awake brings me no respite either. He's everywhere in my space.

They've moved the conversation to the kitchen so they're out of my earshot; however, the laughing is very audible. The merriment is stoking the flame of my ire. My life is so marred in grief, I can't rejoice in the happiness of others including my friend. The longer I stare at the ceiling, the louder their giggling and cackling becomes until it's unbearable. Agitated, I jump out of bed because if I hesitate I'll back out. Poised for a confrontation, I storm into the kitchen catching Kate and Elliot unawares.

"Ana," Kate says, turning in my direction when she hears me entering.

"You want something to eat?" Elliot asks anxiously as he stands to give me his seat.

"No Elliot stay seated. This won't take long," I say snapping my head between the two and when I make eye contact with Kate she's leery. "In case you're wondering, I heard everything thing that was said." My tone is sarcastic.

"Ana I don't know what you think you heard," Kate says finally piping in.

"Oh yes, you do. Otherwise, you wouldn't look so guilty. But you can save it, I came out here to say my peace and you and Elliot can go back to your fun," I snip

"Ana that's not fair."

"Fair. Let's talk about what's not fair. You sleeping with anything with three legs and ending up with the good guy and getting treated like a queen. Meanwhile, I've played by the rules and gets treated like crap. Maybe I should've stepped aside and let you have Christian after all. You two deserve each other." Inwardly I recoil at my words, but I can't stop.

"Ana. Enough," Elliot says sternly as he stands to silence me, and I jerk my elbow from his grasp.

"Elliot don't stop her let her get it out," Kate says as she remains seated and she's trying to put on a brave front, but her voice gives her away.

"Thank you, Kate, for the approval to speak," I say mockingly. "I helped you with all the heartaches and one-night stands, without complaint. But the one time I need you, you think it's a hardship. You didn't come back here for me. You came back here for you. You came back to gloat." And her chair scrapes against the floor as she roughly pushes it back to stand.

"We can have a discussion about who I deserve, but what I don't deserve is you taking your frustration out on me. I was only filling Elliot in on you because he was worried. And like you've so blissfully pointed out, I've been in your shoes. And because I have, I would change places in a heartbeat so you wouldn't have to suffer. But I can't and beating up on me won't help either. I will be your shoulder to cry on, but I will not be your punching bag," she says calmly, before running out of the kitchen and I immediately feel smaller than a gnat.

"You know she really was..." I hold up my hand stopping him.

"You don't have to say it just go to her." Elliot pauses to consider which emotional female needs him most.

"Elliot, let's get out of here," Kate says bitterly when she peeks her head in the kitchen. Elliot is bailed out of his dilemma and he quickly moves from my side to follow her.

"Elliot," softly I call to him and he pauses. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that about your brother," I say when he turns to me.

"You should say it to Kate. But, I think you both need your space right now," he says before walking out and I bury my face in my hands embarrassed by my outburst.

Seeing the mostly uneaten food on the kitchen table sends another bolt of guilt through me. Struggling to hold it together, I pinch off a piece of the croissant roll, from Kate's plate and pop it in my mouth. But I can't even swallow the small morsel, my appetite has taken a hiatus, so I have to spit it out in my hand. Tossing it in the sink, I wipe my hand with a napkin before stumbling out of the kitchen.

I feel a hand resting on my exposed shoulder and shifting I open my eyes to Kate sitting on the edge of my bed.

"Kate," I whimper reaching up to hug her neck. "I'm so so so sorry," I cry on her shoulder and she pulls me in tighter returning the embrace.

"I know," she says as she struggles to contain her tears. Releasing me she leans back breaking our contact. "Were you sleeping? I didn't want to wake you, but I thought we needed to hug this out sooner rather than later."

"Yes, I must have drifted off. But don't worry about it. I am tired, but my mind and heart are too weary to let me have a restful sleep. You were right to wake me. What happened has been weighing heavy on my heart."

"Listen, Ana, this is new for you and unfortunately it's a doozy. But the heighten emotions from a break up will make you behave counter to your regular behavior. I'm exhibit A. As you so eloquently put it; I've been around the block," she says

"Please don't remind me, I was inappropriate revealing sensitive and personal information about your past in front of Elliot. And what I said about Christian was most definitely out of bounds," I sigh.

"Well, without a doubt it wasn't your finest moment. And hearing what you had to say about my sexual history didn't exactly thrill me. But as luck would have it, Elliot and I had a frank discussion about our past that first night. We both have a long list of ex-lovers. Neither of us is the staying around type, so one night stands are common place for us. But for some reason this time is different, we want to stick around. And maybe it's because we were so open. I don't know, but we enjoy each other's company, and we'll hang out until we don't anymore." She shrugs her shoulders.

"You like him don't you?" She beams and nudges me to move over so she can join me on the bed.

"I do. And you're right he's a great guy. He brought us breakfast without me having to ask."

"Oh, Kate I'm so happy for you. What did he say about what I had to say about Christian?" I frown ashamed at my actions.

"Not much really. I was as honest as I could be, and he brushed it off. Apparently, he's used to girls crushing over his little brother."

"Silly girls, they didn't know they had the best Grey brother. Anyway, I'm glad it worked out. Still I'm sorry."

"I accept your apology," she says giving me a peck on the head. "I also want you to know I'm not gloating. I wanted this to work out for you because you wanted. So, I guess he was fine with your age, huh?"

"You know what, I'm tired talking about Christian. Tell me about Elliot," I say desperate to change the subject because I don't want to admit to lying. I am very regretful of my decision.

"What can I say? He's smart. Good looking and funny. And thoughtful..."

"I'm happy for you. And for the record I knew you weren't gloating."

"Hey, can I ask you something that I've been dying to ask. If it's too evasive, you don't have to answer. But I have to know. How was the sex?"

"Can, I say I'm proud of you for waiting this long. I fully expected you to ask me; as soon as, you got me on the phone. I will answer, but I will not go into details. Let's just say it was amazingly mind- blowing good..." And she lets out a shrill

"OMG! You had an orgasm?" I raise my brows. "Don't say it, you had more than one?" She doesn't wait for me to answer before her shrill becomes dangerously loud.

"Yes," I say biting my bottom lip and she nearly bounces us from the bed.

"I'm sorry," she says. "But you don't know how lucky you are to experience multiple orgasms your first time out the gate. Then again, you were with a man and not a boy. My first time was in the back of a limo after Junior /senior prom. I was a sophomore; he was a Senior I think. It doesn't matter. But let's just say it was not memorable."

"I don't why you're so surprised; it was Christian Grey after all. The man exudes sex," I say, and my shoulders sag at another reminder of why he's out of my league.

"Hey you're a hot mamma yourself," she says boosting my ego as she elbows me in the side.

"I told him I loved him," I blurt out.

"And,"

"Nothing," I say.

"That's not surprising. In normal circumstances, men are spooked by those three little words. Telling them during sex is a relationship killer. It's part of the rules of engagement," she says wryly.

"I didn't know the rules. Regardless, I don't regret it," I say vehemently.

"That's what counts the most, being true to yourself. But have you considered that maybe what you're feeling isn't love. But a spontaneous reaction, brought on by multiple mind-blowing orgasms? Don't under-estimate the power of the dick."

"Kate no need to be so crude. And I'm tired of being told how to feel. I would like to think I'm smart enough to distinguish deep affection from a passing fancy."

"Rule # 1, intelligence has no place in love. They're a lot of smart people who do dumb things in the name of love. But, I was thinking more along the line of love versus lust. Lust is as powerful of an emotion as love."

"If it makes you feel better, I will cop to both. I lust after him. How can I not, he's a Greek God but I also love him."

"Okay, you win. I'm not going to convince you of how to feel. But I am going have to insist that you get more appropriate break-up pajamas," she says bringing levity into our conversation.

"What's wrong with my Hanro pajamas?" I ask looking down at what I'm wearing.

"Hanro, that's what. Too nice and practical, they're akin to mom jeans." And she grabs at the fabric. "You're the only girl I know who keeps up with what to wear to bed more than what to wear out of it." She's right, my closet looks like Goodwill, but my sleepwear and loungewear drawer rivals Neiman's.

"If novelty pajamas made this pain go away, I'd put on your bunny ones right now." and I let my head fall back against the headboard. "It hurts so badly, it's suffocating," I say when I bring my head forward.

"I know, I'm the poster child right remember?" She gives me a tight smile elbowing me. "So I'm here to tell you it gets better. It's only been a day. In a few days, the pain will lessen."

"I hope so."

"I saw the breakfast food on the table just as we left it, so I take it you haven't eaten today?"

"Wow that was a quick change of subject, it almost gave me whiplash," I tease. "But the answer to your question is no."

"Ana you have to eat."

"I can't Kate. I pinched off a tiny bit of your croissant and I couldn't even swallow it. I can barely drink water. You promise it will get better," I sniff and let my head falls to her shoulder.

"Yes and you will survive. And be better for it," she says laying the side of her head on mine. "So what did Lulu have to say?"

"She's not happy with me, but she's supportive. Of course, she wants to castrate Christian."

"Finally something we agree on, but she has to stand in line behind Elliot and me."

"Elliot really."

"Yes. He's very angry with his brother and he says it's a good thing his mother doesn't know or she would probably disown him."

"Well let's hope she never finds out, I would be horrified," I say and I lift my head.

"Yeah, I guess that would be pretty embarrassing. But back to Lulu."

"Well, there isn't much more to tell. We didn't talk that long. But she did say to call if I needed anything."

"I bet she did," Kate says sarcastically. "So have you been able to reach her?"

"I haven't tried reaching out to her since yesterday."

"Because you don't want to be disappointed. Ana, I know you love Lulu, and you can't see her for who she is. I know she was there during some dark days, but you've grown up. Is it possible that you've outgrown her?"

"No. Will you ever outgrow your mother?" Kate is rendered speechless. "Your silence says it all. Well, that's how I feel about Lulu. She's the closest thing to a mother figure I have. And it kills me that the two women I love the most dislike each other so much."

"I promise when I see her at graduation, I will be on my best behavior."

"Thank you."

CPOV

"Morning, Sam," I say walking around my desk to greet her.

"Morning to you. Thank you for seeing me." Her demeanor is professional, but there's a hint of playfulness to her so I know she's up to something. This meeting isn't just about business.

"I promised you I would," I say leading her to the chair in front of my desk. "Sit," I say extending my hand at the chair, before walking around the desk to take my seat.

Loosening the button on my jacket, I get comfortable before turning to face the beautiful and impeccably dressed Sam. At the gala, she was sensually dressed, but I always preferred professionally dressed Sam or casually dressed Sam with nude Sam being my all-time favorite. Since going our separate ways, we don't see each that often. Come to think of it I can count on one hand the number of times, I've seen her this year and two of them being the gala and now.

"Well you promised me a lot of things at the gala," she says setting her briefcase on the floor.

"Can you be more specific?" I ask.

"So that's how you want to play it. Well too bad, I don't have time for your games. I'm playing it straight today." She tilts her head slightly sending her straight blond hair to one side and I meet her gaze keeping my expression blank giving her no indication of how annoyed I am with her at this moment.

"You have my attention." And I steeple my fingers at my lips.

"First let's be clear, I knew nothing was going to happen between us that night. I knew it was all a show for little Miss..." I clear my throat interrupting her and her eyes widen.

"Let me stop you there. Her name is Anastasia." Sam's head lolls back as she chuckles uncontrollably at the mention of Anastasia's name.

"Oh, that's perfect. The Disney Princess has a princess name," she says sarcastically.

"You underestimate her. She's more than a pretty face. Much like you, she's smart. Very smart. In a few months, she'll be graduating with a graduate and undergraduate degree." I find myself smiling as I boast about Anastasia's academic accomplishments.

"Careful Grey, people, are going to accuse you of having a heart," she smirks.

"And you of being jealous." My lips are in a hardline. I've reached my limit and now it's time to throw her out before I spank her. And it would have nothing to do with my pleasure.

"Yes, I am. Who would blame me? Since day one I've worked my ass off to get an ounce of the adoration, you've shown to this young woman. It's in nauseating the way you look at her when she's not watching and the length you've gone to hide it." She sighs running her hand through her hair.

"Where are you going with this Sam?" I ask in exasperation. "I have meetings all day and I'm positive you didn't secure an appointment with me to waste my time on wistful musing. So get to it or leave," I snip.

"You Christian, haven't changed. You get defensive when I hit too close to home. Clearly I think this young woman is too young for you. But it's also clear, that she's tapped into a part of you, others have desperately tried to reach. And I wonder how long will it take for you to realize it?" She pauses. "So there that's my two cents." And she crosses her legs in dramatic fashion.

"You know Sam if I wanted your two cents, I would have given you a penny for your thoughts. Now get on with it or get out of my office," I snarl leaning across my desk making sure she understands that she has reach a line that she best not cross.

"Touché," she says snidely, but she knows not to test my limits. She's a ballsy broad, but she's a smart one and she's smart enough to know I will throw her Escada Christian Louboutin clad ass out my office if she pushes me on this Anastasia bullshit. "I have a proposition for you," she says matter of factly tossing a folder on my desk; as if, our heated exchange never happened.

"What is this?" I ask as I look at the glossy pages in the folder.

"It's Corrente, a new electric car company we're hoping to have you invest in. With your backing, we think Corrente could rival Tesla." That is all she says before shutting up to gauge my reaction.

"Let me be up front, I hate the name," I say closing the folder and tossing it back on my desk. "Full disclosure. I'm in talks with Elon Musk "I say leaning back in my chair crossing my legs.

"I know. I do my homework Mr. Grey, which is why I implored the Partners to move sooner than later on this. The way I see it why partner with someone when you can go it alone?"

"You are a crafty one. Getting invited to the gala had nothing to do with the fundraiser or getting all dressed up, but everything to do with this deal. You knew Musk was going to be there and you wanted to spy on us," I say leaning on the desk steepling my fingers.

"You can't begrudge me for doing my job. A man would've done the same thing. A smart one anyway."

"Quite the contrary, I'm not begrudging you, I would poach you away if we didn't have a history." And she smirks.

"As if I would fit in here, among the Stepford wives. I may be blonde, but I have a mind and sometimes a thought actually passes through it."

"Yes you do," I smirk. "Now tell me what would my investment be?"

"That will depend on your ownership stake." She's about to say more, but Taylor interrupts and I eye him speculatively.

"Yes, Taylor."

"Sorry sir, but I think I have something you need to see."

"Okay, give me a moment to wrap things up."

"Sir," he nods before closing the door behind him.

"Taylor always the noble manservant," Sam says shaking her head as she stuffs her briefcase.

"I don't think you would want him to hear how dismissive you are of him. Especially when you know better."

"You're right so please accept my apologies on his behalf. I also want to be clear I have no ill feelings toward Anastasia, but I don't think the same can be said for Ms. Lincoln."

"Elena?"

"Come on Christian you can't be surprised. You abandoned me to break up a scuttle bug she was having with the young woman. She tried to form an unholy alliance with me with the sole goal of making Anastasia uncomfortable. Forgetting that not too long ago, I was the object of her wrath. I swear I never understood why you kept her around. I mean I know why she wants to be around you, her shriveled up old ass has the hots for you." And I can't help but laugh, the verbiage is so not Sam. "Hey don't laugh at me," she pouts slapping me on the arm. "I don't like her."

"I will take your words into consideration," I say escorting Sam to the door.

"Don't placate me. And you know Christian..." She pauses. "Forget it, I've said my peace. I'm out of it." She gestures and I open the door for her.

"Thank you. Call Andria to set up an appointment so I can hear the rest of your presentation, "I say and wave Taylor in. But I needn't because he's on his feet before Sam even steps over the threshold. "So tell me what couldn't wait." I turn my back on him to walk to my desk.

"This Sir." He holds up the papers in his hand. "Barney neglected to provide Ms. Steele's background check when he gave you the information you requested."

"He didn't miss it. I didn't request one. I know Anastasia, she's no threat and I trust her. But let me have the background check, you're so worried about," I say as pull my chair up to the desk and Taylor hands me the papers.

"Sir are you okay?" Taylor calls to me to taking me out of my fog.

"No Taylor, I'm far from fucking okay. Get Stephen on the phone. Tell Andria to cancel my appointments for the rest of the day and tomorrow," I scream and he when he closes the door behind him I throw the papers across the room in disgust at myself.

"Wow, it's good to see you up, alert and eating."

"Yeah, I think I'm ready to rejoin the world and start living again. My professors must think I've dropped out of school since I've missed the last few days of classes."

"You're grades are off the charts so you don't have anything to worry about."

"I know, but I'm not used to missing lectures. I've also missed work, but I hope to go back tomorrow."

"Good," Kate says as she busily runs around gathering up her stuff. "Hey your memory box is out here," she says picking up the tattered box from the sofa side table.

"I know."

"Do you mind if I open it? I don't think I've ever seen what's inside." And she chuckles. "Sorry, I was just thinking how funny it is now. I'm going to be honest with you, I thought this was a fantasy. I chalked it up to your vivid imagination. I just went along to placate you. But I guess you have the last laugh."

"You're not the only one, who thought that. But I would like to keep the contents private...

"No worries I get it." And she sets the box back on the table.

"Where are you going?" I ask.

"Meeting with the editor about the article."

"Kate you don't have to downplay your article because of me. I know the article on Christian is a big deal for you."

"It is but you're a bigger deal," she says leaning in to give me a kiss on the top of the head. "I'll be gone the rest of the day, but I should be back before nightfall," she says.

Alone at last, I pick up the box and hustle up the sofa bringing my knees up with me. I rub my palm over the surface and I realize that Kate's words held some truth. In a way he isn't real, yes he exist but he's not the man I created in my narrative. So I'm going have to distance myself from this box of distortions; in order, to move forward. I have to learn to live in the present without him and give up on the ghost of Christian Grey past. Blowing the loose strands away from my face, I set the box on the coffee table without opening it. My first triumph.

There's power in having a plan and I've enacted the first phase of mine. Ms. Jones told me I had to give into the pain to get through it, well in the last few days I've done nothing but and I think I'm finally through the worst of it. I can almost think back on my time with him without breaking into tears. Almost that is. Picking up the phone from the table, I decide it's time for some rap music to celebrate my rebirth. I've had it with the sad love songs; they've served their purpose.

Thumbing through my playlist, I decide on Eminem. There's nothing like his broody lyrics to make you feel better about your life. As soon as, I hear the first lick of "Lose Yourself", I start bobbing my head, and my spirits immediately lift. Dancing around doing my best M.C imitation, I really hit my groove when Young Money's "Bed Rock", comes on. I would never repeat any of these lyrics in public, but in the privacy of my own apartment the music is fun to dance to and good for releasing stress. When I listen to rap, I can just let go all my inhibitions.

"I'm coming," I yell over the music as I happily dance my way to the knocking at the door and the world comes to a standstill when intense gray eyes greet me.

It's Christian.

He's in a suit but looks somewhat disheveled. His hair is more out of place than normal, his tie is loosened and askew, the top button of his crisp white shirt open and I can see a patch of hair peeking through. To my dismay, none of this has done anything to diminish his good looks. Quite the contrary, he's sexier and more delicious than ever. And dear I say approachable, but there's something off about him. He has an expression of confusion, and there's sadness behind his eyes. And for a split second I let myself believe he's come for me. But on a dime his demeanor changes. His eyes become wide and his nostrils flare as he pushes his way through me, causing me to stumble against the door frame in his wake.

"Come in Christian," I mumble under my breath as I close the door behind him. The words were meant for my ears only, but he hears them.

"This is no time for your smart mouth Anastasia," he hisses as he runs a hand through his hair. Looking down I notice he has papers in his hand. My back pressed against the door, I hold on to the knob waiting for my world to crumble. Armed with my new-found courage, I take matters into my own hands and ask him the twenty thousand dollar question.

"Why are you here Christian?" Seeing the rage bubbling up, in my heart of heart I know the answer. Still I try to keep my voice stern, but it comes out shaky.

He exhales loudly before throwing the papers he's holding at me. And I flinch as my hands automatically go up to block my face. "You tell me," he roars as he turns his back to me in exasperation.

Nervous, I watch as the papers scatter, falling in slow motion to the floor. Breathing hard and water trickling down my cheeks, I track the sheets as they fall, one by one settling not too far apart confined to the space in front of me. As the last paper floats hovering in the air above the rest, his reason for being here is revealed in the neon yellow color outlined in red. My shoulders shudder, as my silent sobs become more audible and slowly I make my way down the door crouching to pick up the ominous piece of paper. Stretching, I take it in my hand and without inspecting I know what's being highlighted and circled with a wide tip red marker for emphasis...The date of my birth.

Unable or unwilling to stand I don't know which, in my crouching position I plead my case to him. "Please let me explain," I say in a garbled voice as I wipe at the tears now dripping down my face onto the sheet of paper that is now mocking me. The paper clutched in my hands, I bring my hands up covering my mouth. My voice quivers as I try to control my sobs, but nothing helps so with my legs quaking, I slowly rise staying close to the door for support. And I'm glad I did because when Christian turns to me, his eyes are dark with fury and I want to ground to disappear.

"Explain what Anastasia? The time for explaining was when I point blank asked you how old you were." He fumes as he steps closer to me until he's in my face and I have to press my back into the door to gain space between us. "No. Correction that was the time for the truth. If you had been honest with me then there'd be no need for explaining now," he screams, his booming voices causing me to wince and turn my face to one side in fear.

"Please don't be mad at me," I whimper and he steps back.

"Oh sweetheart, I've bypassed mad and gone straight to Nuclear," he says calmly as he starts pacing. But I'm not fooled, the chilliness in his tone lets me know the depth of his fury. I'm at a disadvantage because I was not prepared to have this conversation now or ever. So I decide to employ the best defense is a good offense tactic.

"You did a background check on me?" I ask because I'm insulted by the background check and the question is meant to show my displeasure. But my voice is small.

"Pff," he sighs "That's rich. The background check. That's your problems." A sinister chuckle ensues as he comes to a stop in front of me but not invading my personal space this time. "My first fucking mistake was not doing a background check on you from the get-go," he spits out wagging a finger in my face. "If I had it would've negated the need for me to waste my fucking time and come here to deal with this bullshit," he hisses and irate he turns his back on me again. "But no I trusted you," he seethes spinning back around so I can see how infuriated he is.

I'm trying to say, "I'm sorry," but the words get gobbled up by the sobs and all he sees are my lips moving.

"Do you have any Fucking idea what you've done?" He takes a deep breath and I think it's to regain control of his temper, but it's to unleash another level of fury. "You're FUCKING. SEVEN TEEN. YEARS. OLD." He enunciates every word and inward I cringe. He makes it sound dirty and I cling to the door knob to stay upright. "You're a minor. A fucking minor. Do you know the ramification of that? How could you've been so careless and stupid to keep this from me?" He pauses to give me time to answer, but I can't find my voice. I'm only able to nod my response as my free hand feverishly wipe away at the snot mixed with tears from my face. Closing his eyes, he rests his hands on his waist as his head goes back in deep contemplation. "I could lose everything including my FREEDOM," he screams as he brings his head forward and his gray eyes are pitch-black he's so incensed. I gasp shaking my head furiously, at the same time mumbling no. Jail never entered the equation or any part of my cerebral cortex, the only thing this was about was him. And I force myself to leave my safe haven to go to him and quash his ridiculous fears.

"Christian no, I would never do anything," and I put a hand out to touch him, but he steps back out of my grasp, "to harm you," I continue to say, but my words trail off from the sting of his rejection.

"A little late don't you think?" His tone is sarcastic. "The harm is done. Was it worth it? Why did you do it, Anastasia? Was it your plan to seduce me so you could blackmail me for sleeping with an underage girl? Because you certainly came on strong that night?" He is laser focused on me, and I want to turn away or at least blank, but something won't let me. Unbelieving the vile words he's spewing, I want him to look me in my eyes when he says them. I want him to see my reaction when he says them. But I guess, he's hell bent on destroying me because it doesn't deter him. "Why don't I save you the time?" And he reaches a hand into his suit jacket pulling out something that resembles a check. Because it is a check. "Here's a check for a million dollars," he spits out shoving the obscene amount of money in my face and I slap it way storming past him slightly brushing against his shoulder.

My back to him, my head falls forward and I weep. This can't be happening is the mantra that is on a loop in my mind and I pinch my arm in hopes of waking up from the nightmare. Unable to control my emotions, every part of my body shakes. My shoulders, my back, my arms, my chest, I even feel my feet trembling and I can sense him coming up behind me. I wholeheartedly believe he's going to put his hands on my shoulders spin me around and pull me into his chest. And I hold my breath waiting, but it never happens.

"What a million is not enough for you? Why don't we make it 5 million and we can forget the night ever happened."

I have an out of body experience and spin around to face him, "F. You Christian Grey." I can't believe his audacity and how unfeeling he's being. He wants me to forget the unforgettable. Sadly, he's so stuck on cold, I doubt there's anything I can say to thaw his arctic heart.

"Say it Anastasia. Fuck is the word you're trying to say. If you can't say the word, you shouldn't fuck," he snarls. "As I was about to say, take the fucking money and stay out of my fucking life. That means no contact with my mother, no moving to Seattle this summer with your friend, and definitely no more calls," he seethes and by now my tear drops have turned into a deluge. And through the tears, I see him step out of my line of sight, but I'm unsure of where he's heading so I'm forced to follow him with my gaze.

"I don't' want your money," I say wiping at my face as frantically as I can, but the water is falling too fast to keep up. And I see him stop at the sofa side table and deftly he removes his checkbook from inside his jacket; scribbling as if, he's about to pay for a sofa.

With the check in hand, he approaches me with ease, squares his shoulder and looks me directly in the eyes. "Take the check Anastasia," he says holding it up in front of me. Swallowing hard, I swipe at my face and I close my eyes as my head droop under the weight of his wrath. Unexpected, his finger touches my chin. Oh, how I've longed and waited for his touch. I could lose myself, I could melt in his arms, but I can tell by the feel it's a false hope. There's no warmth behind it. "Take the check," he implores nudging my chin so I can face him. Puffy eyes, tear streaked face and the neck of my tee shirt soaked from tears that have fallen uncontrollably down my face, I take the check from his hand and proceed to tear it in half. And I let the pieces fall at his feet. "Don't fuck with me. I will crush you little girl," he snarls.

"Go ahead. You can't crush me any more than you already have." I say defiantly as I step away from him. I've found my voice and I wrap my arms around my body to protect myself from what he's going to throw at me next. "Kate said you were an asshole," I sniffle.

"But you already knew that," he scoffs. "Because I told you. I was honest unlike you. I was clear about who I was and what I wanted. I never pretended to be the fake person you created. Quite the opposite I went out of my way to being forthcoming with you so you could make an informed decision."

"Informed decision." A nervous giggle escapes me. We weren't negotiating a contract."

"Hindsight being 20/20, maybe I should've had you sign one."

"I don't want your money. I can't be bought." He gives me a mischievous grin.

"Sweetheart everyone can be bought. Everyone has a price and that includes you. I just choose not to pay your ultimate price."

"If I wanted your money, I would've taken all that crap you left for me."

"Why would you when you had a bigger payday in mind," he says.

"You can't be serious. This is ridiculous. I'm not having this conversation anymore." And I start to walk out of the room.

"Don't walk away from me." His voice booms stopping me in my tracks.

"I could lose everything I've worked for so excuse me if I don't consider it to be ridiculous. My life's blood is at stake…GEH. Because of your infatuation with me. I would be destroyed if word got out that I slept with you. I didn't sleep with 17-year-old girls when, I was 17. For someone who proclaims to be so mature, you've acted like a selfish, immature brat. This isn't an after school special or some article in one of your teen magazines. This is real life with real life consequences," he huffs. "And if money wasn't your main objective, I don't know what you were expecting. Because there's no way I would be associated with a teenager at this stage in my life. And it doesn't matter that you're 17, I would feel the same way if you were 19."

"How dear you Christian, I've been living the consequences of my actions since that night. I can't eat, I can't sleep, and I can't go to school or work. I haven't left this apartment since we were together. But all you care about is you. Have you ever considered my feelings?" I sob.

"You can drop the innocent act. That report tells me all I need to know about who you really are. A liar." The words trails, but the two little words cut through me. "My birth mother lied to me the first 14 years of my life until her dying breath. So honesty is an attribute I celebrate in people. Her lies reached out to me from the grave. And in my position, people always want something from me. I thought you were different. Different from them. Different from her. Here I thought I wasn't good enough for you, but in the end you're not good enough for me," his voice is measured, these words are not in need of the volume. They speak loud enough. He's compared me to a woman he despises, which means he despises me.

"If I'd told you how old I was, you wouldn't have slept with me. I wanted you so badly and I led myself to believe you wanted me too."

"No, I wouldn't have slept with you. But it was my decision to make and your lies took away the ability for me to make an informed decision. People call me a control freak and well this is an example of why I keep such a tight control over everything I do. Why I keep, my life ordered. I'm far from perfect, but at least I'm honest about who I am." I keep a straight face despite the hypocrisy in the statement knowing full well I've not been upfront with my family about my BDSM lifestyle. But in this context, my statement is more accurate than not. "I was honest with you so you knew what you were getting into. You lied to me so I was with you under false pretenses. Was that what you really wanted?"

"As if you care about what I want. I wanted you and at the time none of this mattered" I say shrugging my shoulders and tilting my head to the side.

"Take the money, Anastasia. This is all you will ever get from me."

"I don't want your money. I don't need your money. You can rest assure, I will never tell anyone what happened between us."

"There's no us. There never was AN us. Get it through your head," he says adamantly. "And tell me how am I supposed to believe a word you say? You've already proven yourself to be untrustworthy. So no thank you, I've learned my lesson. So I'm going to tell you how this is going to go. There's some paperwork you'll need to sign," he says and he starts moving his head around. "What the hell is this fucking noise?" And I scramble to reach the phone but I struggle with turning iTunes off. Fumbling with the phone, I finally get it off, but the phone drops out of my sweaty, nervous hands tumbling to the floor.

"Stop biting your fucking bottom lip." I've suffered through her biting that fucking bottom lip this entire time and I've had enough of it. Regardless of how incensed I am at her I'm still affected by her damn lip biting. And I'd be damned if I will ever touch her again.

Christian hisses and I immediately release the lip I didn't realize I was biting. "Don't try to manipulate me. You have played me for the last time. You've crossed the wrong man. "He walks past me back to the sofa side table, pulling out more paperwork from inside his jacket.

I stare at her and I'm sure she thinks I'm glaring, but I'm watching her thinking back on Sam's words. Her body is still trembling, I see the tears as they make tracks down her cheeks, and I see her nervously fidget with her mouth as she tries desperately not to bite her lip. And I want to hold her, but I'm too furious with her to show her any sympathy. She just turned 17 for god sake and needs to stay away from me and she needs to understand the repercussions if she does not. I convince myself that the tough love is best. She needs to learn a lesson and I need to reassert my will. I'm the Master of My Universe and no one will control me and that includes her.

"I need you to sign the NDA you so high and mightily ripped up." I clear a space on the table and lay the paper down as she slowly walks towards me. Reaching in my pocket I give her the pin and she shakily signs her name. She tries to give it back to me and I tell her to keep it. There are more documents to sign.

"This other document has to do with any pregnancy that may arise."

"Christian please, you don't need to worry about a pregnancy. I was not lying about being on the pill. I'm on it because of my menstrual cycle. And why would I want to get pregnant when I have school? So this is not necessary," she whimpers, her tears haven't stopped.

"It is necessary. With a baby from Christian Grey, you wouldn't need school," I say angrily because this is one of my worst fears. This one is on me, for not following my own creed, but I'm holding her culpable for putting me in the situation in the beginning.

"You're really full of yourself aren't you?" She's inconsolable, but she maintains her smart mouth.

"You have no idea," I smirk, "This document covers the different scenarios of an unwanted pregnancy. If you're not lying you have nothing to worry about, but I'm covering my bases. Scenario #1, the best outcome. No, pregnancy. We're good and we have no need to deal with each other ever again. Scenario #2, in case you do become pregnant. I would want you to have an abortion, but I would not force you to have one. Seeing that a baby is mostly likely your end goal, I doubt you would anyway. Which takes us to scenario #3. Keep in mind that there's no way in this lifetime that you and I would co-parent. So you will have the baby, I will take care of all of your medical expenses and my parents would adopt the baby never knowing who the birth parents are."

"Are you serious?" She chuckles

"Very."

"Where do I factor in, in this scenario?"

"You don't. Once the baby is born you will never see him or her," I say and her eyes get large.

"Forget it." She waves me off with her hand. "None of it matters I'm not pregnant so where do I sign?" She puts her hand out for the pin and I hear the resignation in her voice. Once she's signed the paper, she slams the pin on top of it. "What else Christian?" She sighs dejectedly. What other indignity do you want to subject me to?" And she shakes her head from sides as she fights not to bite her bottom lip.

"Bravo Ms. Steele." And I clap my hand. "Good show, but you brought this on yourself with your lies so don't try to make me feel guilty. As far as the indignity, I don't see that way. I consider it insurance."

"You don't have to look so smug," she sneers.

"Anastasia, as much as, it enthuses me to stay here and exchange barbs with you, I have a company to run. At least for now anyways," I quip. "To wrap things up, I want to reiterate that you are to stay away from my family. I can't do anything about Elliot fucking your roommate, but do not discuss me with him. Don't reach out to my mother. Stay out of Seattle and lose my number," I say picking up the signed papers.

"You know what Christian, you want me to forget about you," she bawls stomping to the coffee table picking up the box that's been sitting there. "Here take this." And she shoves it into my chest almost pushing me backward. "I don't want anything to remind me of you," she says in a strangled voice. "I love you. That's why I did it. That's it. Simple as that," she says sweetly and her shoulders start quivering hysterically.

"I will deposit the 5 million dollars in your account," I say clutching the old tattered box and papers, I walk confidently to the door.

When he starts walking away, the pain becomes excruciating and I collapse to the floor.

Her sobs have turned into whaling and I stop at the door. A hand on the knob, I hesitate and I close my eyes as her blood-curdling sobs pierce through the noise going on in my head. Paralyzed, I think of the irony as I squeeze my eyes tighter. I'm paying an obscene amount of money to bring anyone to their knees who may have harmed her and I've turned out to be the bogeyman. I don't know how it happens, but I'm outside and Taylor is in front of me.

"Let Stephen know we will leave first thing in the morning," I say as we walk to the rented SUV.

"Hey, Ana," I just passed Christian Grey," Kate says when she comes through the door. She sounds so hopeful, and it pains me to have to tell her the truth.

"It's not what you think Kate," are my mumbled words from my position on the floor in the fetal position.

"Ana what the hell? What did he do to you?" She yells tossing her bags to the floor as she races across the room. Crouching she removes strands of matted hair from my face glued there by my excessive crying.

"He knows the truth," I hiccup.

"What truth?" She asks confused.

"He found out that I'm 17." She looks at me perplexed

"Come on," she says as she tries to help me from the floor. "Let's get you come up from here. You look uncomfortable and my knees are starting to hurt." As soon as we hit the cushion, my head falls on her shoulder.

"Go ahead. You can say I told you so."

"No, I told you so here," she says.

"You and Elliot make it seems so easy," I sniff.

"It is easy. That's the way it's supposed to be in the beginning… easy. Not this complicated and fraught with pain. Look at me," she implores and I lift my head from her shoulder. "I know Christian Grey is all that and a bag of chips. But is he worth who you are around him? I've never seen you cry as much as I have in the last week or so. After every meeting with him you're a bigger mess."

"I know but this time it' my fault, I did a stupid thing," I cry and my head find its favorite spot on her shoulder.

"Duh. You're 17, that's what 17-year-old girls with raging hormones do. You've been so busy acting grown up, you forgot the growing up part. I'm sure what you did was hella crazy. And I'll have to beat you up about it, but I'm just so happy to see you act your age," she says scaring me with her wisdom.

"Thank you, Kate, for being so understanding and wise." She shrugs her shoulder forcing my head up and she takes me by my shoulders turning my body so I'm facing her.

"Don't get it twisted, I have a plan. Fuck him. Enough of his bullshit. You've cried over him long enough, so it's time to stop crying over him and time to start getting over him. And the best way to do it, is to get back on the horse. So we need to find you a new horse. And by a new horse I mean a new man. If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with or something like that?" She smiles. "But, I say if you can't be with the one you want, be with the one that wants you. At least for right now. So we need to find your Mr. Right Now and I know the perfect place to look. We're going out."

Soon as, we hit the Campus, the typical college nightclub, I knew it was a bad idea. Who am I kidding, I'd known it was a bad idea when I felt the cool breeze on my butt cheeks; as soon as, we walked out our apartment door. I let Kate dressed me up in her green mini, with an emphasis on the mini, short pants ensemble. Since stunning in green at the gala, all of sudden this has become her favorite color. It's flattering on her, but it washes me out. But I went with it because the second choice was worse.

I'd tried telling her the shorts were too revealing, my cheeks were out, but she convinced me otherwise. Saying I was a prude and the outfit was more likely to catch me a man than my customary jeans and sneakers. So here I am uncomfortably dressed in too short shorts and too high a heel. Though I'm uncomfortable in my attire, it feels good to be out and I've done some mingling but refusing to dance with anyone. That is until Kate's brother's Ethan shows up. He's my favorite dance partner because he gets my love of the movie Dirty Dancing and he always indulges me in re-enacting the dirty dancing scene. Naturally, I'm no good, but Ethan's an excellent dancer so he makes me look good. However, we don't get to enjoy our dancing much before his sister, the drill sergeant matchmaker is forcing us to separate. Stating Ethan is not a viable candidate and I need to stay focused on meeting my objective.

Kate's voice fresh in my head, for the first time ever I agree to dance with the lecherous Nick. And I'm so preoccupied with Kate and Christian, I'd not been unnerved when Nick nonchalantly dances us to a secluded part of the dance floor. I didn't even think twice when he put his hands on my butt cheeks pulling me close grinding against me whispering erotica in my ear. In all honesty, it felt good. Kate was right, it feels good to be wanted and I let myself give into the unfamiliar touch bringing my arms around his neck becoming an active participant. Doing some grinding of my own. However, when he escalates, by spinning us so my back is against the wall I get fearful. I'm pressed so tightly against the brick wall, I can feel the iPhone in my pocket digging into me through the thin fabric of the silk. Because of where we are and the pulsating music, I know screaming isn't option so I try to remain calm and just wait for the music to end. But when his hands make their way underneath my shorts and he starts massaging my ass, I freak out and I squirm frantically to get away from him. Pleading with him, I'm finally able to break free before his hands make their way to my front. He hurls obscenities at me as I move as quickly as I can to get lost in the crowd.

When I make it close to the door, I feel my buttocks vibrating and I pull the phone out of my pocket thinking it's Kate looking for me.

"Anastasia." To my surprise, it's Christian. He's so loud I have to move the phone from my ear and I can still hear him over the techno beat. "I REALIZE THIS IS NEW TO YOU, BUT NEXT TIME YOU WANT TO FUCK SOMEONE DO NOT FUCKING CALL ME." And he ends the call before I get a chance to respond.

Holding the phone in my hand, I stare at in utter bemusement; confused by the call and angered by his words and tone. Then I look at my call log and things become clearer. I'd butt dialed Christian during the episode with Nick. Sick to my stomach, I rest my hand on the wall and start feeling for the exit. When I get to the stream of light, I plow through the crowd of people anxious to get in. I can finally breathe when the air hits my face, but I still have an urge to purge my stomach. So I stumble to the tree in front of the bar but out of sight of prying eyes.

"Here take this," a friendly voice says from the darkness and I move my head from where it's resting on my forearm against the tree.

"Thank you," I say taking the cocktail napkin from the stranger who has a head full of bright coppery hair.

"Hi, I'm Copper, Cooper actually. But my friends call me Copper," he says nervously offering me his proffered hand.

"Ana," I say shaking his hand.

'I didn't mean to frighten you, but I saw you and I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

"I'm not but I will be soon," I say as I fidget with the napkin.

"You want to talk about it?"

"No. What I want is to go home," I sigh.

"Well, I could take you."

"Oh no, Copper. I wasn't implying that you should take me home." After convincing me that he's not a serial killer, I agree to let him take me home.

"My GPS is down so you'll have to tell me how to get there.

"Don't worry it's not far," I say and as soon as, he turns the key his radio comes to life and I hear Bonnie Raitt.

"Sorry about that I was searching for another station and stopped on this light rock one," he says as he goes to change it.

"No, let it stay there," I say grabbing for his wrist and we sit in silence as the radio plays.

I will lay down my heart and I'll feel the power

But you won't, no you won't

'Cause I can't make you love me, if you don't


	11. Chapter 11: Give Up The Ghost

Chapter 11: Give Up The Ghost

Fifty Shades Of Grey belongs to EL. James

**N/A: **Thank you for reading and reviewing- This is a departure from some of the darkness- I hope you enjoy

True to his word, Christian deposited the 5 million dollars into my account within hours of leaving my apartment. So now every time I look at my statement it's like a finger poke to the eye, an ugly reminder of the mistakes I've made. He won't let me distance myself from the idea, that I was only his whore because he keeps throwing money at me. And the higher the sum rises, the less I feel about myself.

I want to turn the chapter, heck at this point I would settle for a page, but with his blood money as the bookmark I'm stuck reliving his words. So I need to make some decisions on what to do with it if I'm to move on from my Grimm Tale. Even if I were starving and bound for homelessness again, I would not spend a dime of his dirty money. I've discovered that I do have a price; I'm priceless defects and all. Not because I think so much of myself, quite the opposite, I loath who I am, but I have a conscious. And it won't let me spend a dime of the money, even for a good cause. I'd pondered donating all of it to the Boys and Girls clubs in the State. But I nixed the idea, not wanting to give the arrogant Mr. Grey the satisfaction of seeing the money leave my account. I'm sure he checks on it daily if not hourly. He's like a puppeteer in the shadows pulling the strings, and I'm his puppet. It's clear I need to free myself from his controls so pushing pause; I will consider all my options, hoping there's one that will sit right with my soul.

It's an exorbitant amount of money, more than I can expect to see in this lifetime; however, only $1,648.29 of what's in the account actually belongs to me. The money has changed nothing about my appearance; I still look as poor as a church mouse; however, I get nervous around tellers because I think criminals know the secret I'm keeping. I haven't even told Kate about the money, keeping the contents of the argument close to the vest. I don't want to give her any information that could get back to Christian through Elliot. I don't want his head to explode; it's so big the carnage from it would blanket the state. The crumpled statement shoved in my coat pocket, I head to the Starbucks a few doors down, to think about the options and have a hot cup of tea.

"A tall tea, bag out, please. English Breakfast," I tell the Barista.

Circling my hands around the paper cup, I try to warm them on the hot liquid inside, as I search for a seat in the crowded coffee house. And my eyes lock in on one and I make a beeline for it, being careful not to spill the steaming hot water. Breathing a sigh of relief, when I beat the snarky young women heading to the same empty table near the window, I plop down in a chair trying to conceal my raptured joy. Since it's just me, I could be neighborly and offer the two young women the remaining empty seats at the table, but I find their snooty attitudes irksome. Plus, I need the alone time to think about a plan for the money.

I hear the chair scrape against the floor and feel the table vibrate as said chair is being pulled out from it. Taking my head out of the clouds, I move the pen from my mouth and focus my attention on the stranger in front of me.

"I would love to be that pen," the strangers says naughtily.

"Excuse me," I say trying to sound insulted, but the truth is I'm mesmerized by the handsome stranger. His hair is longer than what I prefer on a guy, but on him it's a perfect juxtaposition to his strong masculine features. Dear I say, he's good looking. Very good looking.

"Sorry, just an observation. But you have to admit a pen pressed against the full bottom lip of a beautiful young woman creates quite a phallic imagery." And he sits in the chair without an invitation. "I'm Luke," he says extending a hand across the table.

"Luke," I repeat taking his extended hand. "Where I come from a pen is just a pen," I say releasing the hand.

"Maybe so, but in the hands of someone as beautiful as you are it's an instrument to be envied," he says, and I sigh.

"I bet you say that to all the girls."

"Only to those I like with blue eyes the color of the sky and just as vast," he says taking a sip from his Starbucks cup. He's too comfortable in his own skin, a painful reminder that I'm not. "Hopefully, you don't mind that I'm here? I've been watching you for a while now, but you've been too engrossed in what's outside that window to notice."

"I have a lot on my mind," I say and after the innuendo with the pen I ditch it, so I have to fidget with the stirrer.

"You want to talk about it?" He asks.

"Why would I? I don't know you. You're putting it on pretty thick aren't you?"

"Maybe, but when you find something worth fighting for you use all the weapons you have at your disposal. And I get a feeling you're worth fighting for," he says deadpan never taking his eyes off me, and I'm starting to feel uncomfortable.

"What am I supposed to say to that? Except to repeat, you don't know to me to be making such a bold declaration," I sigh.

"Nothing, you're meant to say nothing. I know what I see, and I like what see. That's enough for me," he says pushing his cup aside. "Why are you so sad? And what or better yet who has hurt you so badly that you can't take a compliment."

"What are you psychic now?" And a nervous chuckle leaves me as I try to distract him. He's getting too close.

"No, and I don't have to be, you wear the clues of your pain all over you." And he tilts his head. "It's the way your shoulders droop when you try to keep them up. In the way, you stare in the distance at nothing at all. I can read it in your expression, and most telling is the puffiness of your beautiful eyes from the constant crying." His voice is soft, and he sounds genuine. And he's on point.

"Wow, with that description, no wonder you find me so captivating," I smirk and pick up the tea that is now lukewarm. No pun intended.

"You must be new here. I come to this Starbucks every day, sometimes twice a day and this is my first time seeing you," he says changing the subject.

"You are psychic," I say sarcastically. "I arrived this morning. I'm starting a special program at Harvard."

"Well let me be the first to welcome you to Boston and Harvard. I'm finishing up some courses."

"Thank you. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Really, I was starting to have my doubts. You should smile more," he says, and he smiles. And it's a dazzling warm, inviting smile that covers his whole face.

"Look, Luke, there's something you need to know about me. Full disclosure. I'm 17. I'm in college because I finished high school early. There. It was nice knowing you," I say letting my eyes fall on the table and I hear him sigh.

"I'm sure there's a story there if you're leading with your age."

"What?" I glare at him "I wanted you to know. So shoot me. I thought I'd warn you. Does it scare you away?"

"Give me a moment," he says and he mimics a man deep in thought. "No. It gives me pause, but it doesn't scare me away," he says, and I don't why, but my lips start quivering.

"Never mind me," I sniff waving a hand at him. "Lately, I've been crying at a drop of a hat," I whimper

He looks at his watch, "tell you what, I have a couple of hours before my next class. Do you want to get out of here? Come to my place?" He asks, and I nod my head just as the first drop falls.

Playing with my hands, I dither when Luke opens the door to his apartment, questioning my judgment in accepting his invitation to his home. Sure he's very handsome. If Christian can be described as a Greek god with out of this world good looks, Luke is his earthly counterpart. And I have to question, the luck in me running into another good looking guy so soon after Christian, that's interested in me no less. I thought Copper was a fluke, and he doesn't come close to Christian or Luke in the looks department, so I hedge my bet on a setup. And I conjure up visions of The Fall. I start to slowly back up. The protagonist is gorgeous, and he's a serial killer and come to think of it, he likes brunettes, and now I want to flee.

"Where are you going?" Luke ask confused when he sees me creeping backward. Aren't you coming in?" He asks standing with the door opened. And his voice is warm and non-threatening, so I decide that I'm acting silly. After all Paul Spector doesn't invite his victims over; he sneaks into their homes; therefore, clearly Luke is not a killer. I shake my head at the myriad of scenarios that have played out in my imagination in no less than 5 seconds. Surmising that if I don't get some sleep soon I'm going to go crazy for real.

"Do you want something to drink?" He asks when he flips on the lights, and tosses his keys in the bowl.

"No, I'm good. I've had enough liquids to last me for a while."

"Well, if you need to use the bathroom one is down the hall through my bedroom, and there's one in the second bedroom around the corner." And I follow his finger.

"So you have a roommate?"

"No, I just like my space," he smirks. "You can have a seat in there while I get my things ready," he says pointing to the seating area, before heading down the hall. At home, his demeanor has changed. He's not as cocky and full of himself, as he was at Starbucks and for that I'm happy. That Luke could get old quick.

Speculatively I eye my surroundings as I make my way to the sofa. The apartment is large, too spacious for one person but not humongous like Christian's. For a college student, it's very well appointed, but not in your face like Mr. Grey's. It attainable, unlike anything at Escala.

"You look comfortable," Luke says when he walks into the living room.

"Your sofa is comfortable," I say and he gives me that warm smile that makes me feel like everything is going to be okay.

"Now where were we?" He asks when he plops down, joining me.

"Me making a fool of myself at the door," I grimace.

"Yeah, what was that all about?"

"Don't ask," I sigh.

"Okay, I won't. It wasn't what I was eluding to anyway so nice try." And from my face, he moves a tendril of hair that has escaped my ponytail. Tell me why are you so sad? Who's done this to you?" His voice is soft and warm like hot chocolate on a cold rainy day.

I pause for a moment. "Tell me about you. Before I bare my soul, I want to know more about you," I say.

"Let's see since age is such a factor for you why don't I start there. I'm 25. I grew up here on the East Coast in Connecticut with my parents and three sisters. Two older than me, one is younger. My father is a high powered Attorney, my mother, a semi-retired University Administrator. There you go. Now your turn."

"No, no. I said about you not your family. All I got out of that was your age. I need something juicy if you're expecting me to dig deep in the depth of my core revealing all to you," I say teasingly in very dramatic fashion. Holding my gaze, he leans in taking my chin in his hand, and I close my eyes.

Pressing his lips against mine, he finds my lips are already parted waiting for him. So easily his tongue enters and gently he plunders my mouth as we find our rhythm. I get so lost in the kiss, for the first time in weeks my mind is free of my troubles. I wonder if this is what Kate was talking about with Mr. Right Now and it all makes sense.

"Juicy enough for you?" He breathes against my lips when he pulls out of the kiss.

"Not exactly what I had in mind," I stutter as I open my eyes. "But yes."

"I've wanted to do that since you walked in Starbucks looking so adorably sexy cute." And he removes his hand falling back to his side of the sofa."

"That word combination makes no sense," I chuckle. "Besides if I recall, that's not that ringing endorsement I got. It started with something about drooping shoulders," I smirk.

"In my defense that description had nothing to do with you, but you're attitude. You, however, are most definitely adorable, cute, and sexy. So it makes sense, and you're stalling."

"I am, but I want to know more about you first," I say crossing my legs under my body.

"You drive a hard bargain. Though I'm an East Coaster, I live and work in the Pacific Northwest. Seattle specifically in private security and I don't talk about my job because it's private security." I stop him, thinking back on Reynolds and Mr. Taylor. The mention of Seattle is surprising, but it's the security part that confounds me.

"You don't look like a security guy. Your hair."

"When I'm not working I keep it long because I can. That's it now it's your turn." His hair is long, but not 80's rock band long. The length is hitting at his jaw line. Neatly tucked away behind his ears it shows off his handsome face.

I take a deep breath. "Buckle up it's going to be a rough ride."

And I proceed to tell Luke about what happened with Christian, leaving out identifiable markers and private information shared between us. But most surprising I tell him about my past, everything about my past. Including the horrible circumstances that caused me to be removed from my home that night many years ago. And he didn't have to ask. Being in his presence is freeing, and I'm comfortable being forthcoming with him. When I come to the end, I'm in tears, and I appreciate that he allowed me to find my way through to the end without interrupting to console me. He's just met me and already he knows my needs.

"Feel better?" He asks as he helps to wipe away the tears with his thumbs. Dropping his hands, he pulls me to his chest.

"I have to get going soon, so I don't have time to dissect everything. But I want you to know you're beating yourself up too much. I could kill the Douche for making you feel so badly about yourself," he says giving me a peck on the top of my head. "Let me be clear, it takes two. He's just as responsible as you are, and because he's older he's more at fault. And I'm sure when he's alone at night, he's forced to face his truth. The truth that subconsciously he had known you were not 21. Guy code, if you have to ask, you walk away. I wasn't taken back by your age because it wasn't that surprising. You look young. I mean I wasn't expecting 17, but 21 would've been just as surprising. He's taking it out on you because he's angry at himself for not follow his instincts. So he's trying to course correct by coming down hard on you. I'm not excusing him. If anything I think he's a bigger asshole for taking your virginity and walking away," he says in disgust. "Who does that?" He asks tilting his head down to look in my face.

"You tell me you're the guy?" And lifting my head from his chest I break his hold on me. "You haven't asked my name?" I eye him speculatively.

"I know. I figured you'd tell me when you're ready," he says as he moves me over in preparation to get up from the sofa. "Listen I have to get going, but I want you to stay until I get back. You look tired. I bet you've hardly slept during this clusterfuck. Now that you've shared your story, hopefully, you feel lighter so maybe you can get some sleep. Wait here." And he gets up.

When he comes back, he's armed with a blanket and a pillow. Setting them on the sofa, he makes me stand." Turn around," he says making a twirling motion with his hand. When my back is to him, he removes the band holding my hair in place. "There. I want you to be comfortable," he says putting his hands on my shoulders turning me back around to face him before helping me back to the sofa. "Put your feet up here," he says and kneeling he rests my feet on this thighs to remove my converse and socks. Then he places the pillow where it's comfortable for me and covers me with the blanket. "Sleep. I'll be back soon," he says tucking the blanket under my chin.

Stretching I open my eyes to a strange surrounding and I vaguely remember where I am. Boston for sure and things become clearer as clues emerge helping me piece together my day. Then it registers, I'm in the apartment of the handsome stranger and when my memory is about to recall his name, and he appears.

"You're awake," Luke smiles looking down at me.

"Yes." I yawn. "Sorry, I'm trying to wake up." And I yawn again. "What time is it?" I ask between another yawn.

"After 6," he says.

"OMG," I sit up. "After 6, I've slept most of the day," I say tossing the blanket back.

"Apparently, your body was yearning for the rest because you didn't budge when I came in, and I was noisy. Intentionally." And he smiles. Teasingly I stick my tongue out at him and quickly throw my legs over the edge of the sofa, but sadly that's as far as I get before my body betrays me.

"Give me your hands," Luke offers pulling me up from the sofa. Standing I yawn and do a full body stretch getting all the kinks out.

"Thank you for not killing me," I smirk.

'Don't thank me yet." He winks.

"Again thank you, but I should get back to my room," I say, and I start looking around for my sneakers. Luke grabs me by the forearm, spinning me so I can face him.

"I was hoping to convince you to stay. Not just tonight, but the rest of the weekend. I'll make sure to have you back on Monday. You said your roommate isn't due until Sunday, so it's an empty room, and I don't want you to be alone."

"My clothes are there," I say.

"Okay, we'll have dinner and I'll take you to your place to pick something up."

"You don't even know my name," I whisper looking up into his dreamy blue eyes

"Then put me out of my misery," he says gracing me with a lighthearted smile.

Thinking about it, I decide to go with an alias. "Rebecca," I say

"Rebecca," he repeats with a hint of disbelief. "Okay, Rebecca does that mean you'll stay."

"Yes to tonight, we'll see about the rest of the weekend."

"I'll accept that. On my way home, I picked up dinner from Panera, in case you didn't want to go out."

"That sounds good. Let me freshen up first," I say, and I choose to use the bathroom in the guest bedroom.

Bringing the washcloth over my face for a final pass, I have to admit I look refreshed. Luke, was right the sleep did my body good. It's most evident on my face. The dark circles have diminished in color. My eyes a bright, and my skin is no longer blotchy but luminous; a big improvement over what I looked like this earlier.

"Remind me again, what you saw in me? Cause I tell you I wasn't looking so good then," I giggle as I turn the corner to kitchen dining combo.

"You held me captive because there was something about you that wouldn't let me look away. The moment I saw you, I knew you were special. I felt lucky that of all the Starbucks in Boston, you walked into the one I frequent," he says.

"Watch old movies much?" I laugh coming further into the space.

"I may have been, accused of being a Humphrey Bogart uberfan," he says setting the containers from Panera on the table. "And that might be my favorite quote from Casablanca," he winks and smiling I shake my head at him.

"How long have you been waiting to use that line?" I ask sarcastically, taking my seat at the table.

"I haven't. Stop being cynical, this was not premeditated. Nothing about today was premeditated; it was all organic," he says, and he takes his chair next to me.

Dressed in one of his oversized Harvard tee shirts and his Joe Boxer with the big smiley face on the front that he got for a gag gift, I tiptoe around the corner. Stopping in front of his bedroom door, I raise my fist in the preparation of knocking, but I pause instead I lay my palm flat on the surface slowing pushing the door back. Peeking my head in, I scout out the territory before crossing the imaginary line. Sticking a toe in, I continue to step forward until I'm at the foot of his bed.

Quietly I stand, contemplating what to do next and taking me by surprise Luke raises his head. When he sees me, he does a double take and without saying a word he holds the covers back inviting me in. Starting and stopping, I make it the short distance to the tempting spot and I crawl up the bed. My back against his front, I wiggle to get more comfortable. An arm wrapped around my waist, he pulled me tightly and pressed into him I can feel his erection rubbing into me.

"Go to sleep," he murmurs before kissing me on my head.

"You have to stop watching me sleep," I say groggily, as I try to blink the sleep out of my eyes and clear it from my voice.

"Why, it's the most fun I've had in a long time," he says as he shifts on the edge of the bed." So you had a hard time sleeping in the other room?"

"Yes, I was restless. Thank you for not making a big deal about it."

"You have to stop thinking me," he says.

"Then stop doing sweet things," I say shifting to sit up on my elbows.

"I'll keep that in mind, in the meantime, I thought we would go for a run," he says.

"That would be great if I had my running clothing with me," I say kicking the covers back.

"Lucky for you, I picked up running gear for you," he says casually, but it takes by surprise.

"When? Where?" I ask surprised.

"When you finally fell asleep, I slipped out of bed and went to the neighborhood Target."

"Target," I gulp.

"Yeah." And he tries to gauge my reaction. "It was the only store opened that early in the morning," he qualifies. "I don't expect you to keep them you know," he says, unsettled by my expression. "Consider them disposable," he says when he sees me gearing up to cry.

"No. I will keep them always. It's perfect," I whimper throwing myself at him and he catches me.

"Wow, if I had known this was the kind of reaction I would get, I would've gone to Target yesterday," he says tightening his grip on me.

It's irrational that I'm this emotional that he'd shopped at a Target for me. But it's the symbolism. Considering Christian's pension for going over the top and his flair for hyperboles, it feels nice to have someone do something simple and understated. No big sweeping statements or grandiose gestures. This simple act feeds my spirit most. Picking up the bag with its big red bull's eye, I happily walk back to the guest bedroom to get changed.

"Hey, I thought you said you were a runner," Luke taunts me as I struggle to keep up.

"You know I take back all the nice things I said," I huff, as I kick it into high gear to catch up with him on this the last leg.

"What were you saying back there? You were too far behind for be to hear," he says trying to egg me on, but he doesn't have to I'm already annoyed that he isn't breathing hard.

Seeing his building in sight, I get the idea to sprint the rest of distance which would catch Luke off guard since he thinks I'm gassed.

"I said you can't beat me," I say as I pass him in a full-on sprint.

"You are so going to pay for that," he yells as he revs up to catch up to me.

"Don't worry. I don't think any less of you," I say patting him on the back. He's bent over with his hands on his knees in a final attempt to catch his breath when we make it to the apartment.

"I'm glad it fits," he says when I come out the room with the T-shirt, he picked up for me at Target. He also got me some panties, but conveniently not a bra in sight.

"Yes, it fits nicely, even without a bra." And mockingly I look down at my chest. "Go figure," I say deadpan and he stalks up to me.

"Rebecca, isn't your real name is it?

"No, it isn't."

"Why did you give me a fake name?"

"I've failed epically in the last few weeks at being me. So I thought I would give it a go at being someone else for a while. Or at least for the weekend."

"Come here." And he stretches his arm pulling me flush to his body. Leaning down he kisses me on the lips before moving to my neck. "Hold your arm up," he whispers

My arms stretched above my head; he starts rolling the shirt exposing more and more skin with each turn of the hem. The shirt in his hand, he tosses it to the floor. Naked from the waist up, my eyes follow as Luke steps back to admire my body.

"Beautiful," he breathes and reaches down sweeping me up in his arms causing me to squeal.

When he gets to his bedroom, he pushes the door open with his foot. Taking long strides, he lets me drop the short distance to the bed when we reach it, and this causes my boobs to bounce in the process. "You did that on purpose," I shriek.

"Yep, in case you're wondering they're real," he says, his heated gaze burning me up. Fully clothed, he crawls up the bed putting is legs over me to straddle me.

"Is that your scientific test?" I ask, and I have to blink. His eyes are so intense they're piercing right through me.

"No, this is," he says. Hovering over me he leans down and bites each of my nipples. And I moan. "Yes, I can firm they're real," he says hotly and straddling me on his knees, he starts to remove his shirt.

His shirt in his hand, I get a full view of his upper body, and I take the time to enjoy the view. For an East Coast boy by birth and a Pacific Northwest boy by choice, his skin is sun-kissed like he's spent time in the Southern California sun. The slight tan hue accentuates every ridge of his six pack ab and the hardness of his chest. I swallow hard and the lump gets stuck in my throat when he teases me with a subtle flex of his pecs. Breathing hard, he tosses the shirt aside and as if he tried it lands perfectly on the chair.

"I guess I got game, after all," he boasts. And with his hair slightly damp from his shower it tickles my nose when he leans down to give me a kiss. Sweeping the soft, sensuous strands back off his face with his hands, he looks unbelievably sexy like he belongs on the cover of the steamiest erotic romance novel instead of straddling me.

"If 48 hours is all I have I'm going to erase him from your mind, one orgasm at a time. And when you're ready to reclaim your identity he will no longer consume you," he says huskily, and I challenge him with my eyes.

"So I'm trading one drug for another," I pant and he gives me a sinister smirk making my body dare him to try.

His amazing blue eyes are blazing with so much fire they chill me to the bones. And I writhe with need. The raw sensuality he has on display is forcing me to keep my eyes on him too afraid to blink not wanting to miss a thing. He removes his hands from his hair, and the luscious mane falls cloaking him in all his masculine glory. Like this, he looks like the seductive bad-boy bound to protect and serve.

Not wanting to lose the view, I feel bereft when he crawls down my body, but when I feel him tugging at the waistband of my jeans I get a renewed burst of enthusiasm. My eyes on the top of his head, I feel him undo the button, and he moves to the zipper where he slowly brings it down. The prerequisite tasks completed he continues with my jeans tugging on them, and I lift my butt off the bed to assist him with bring the skinny jeans down my body. And I vow never to wear them again. They are offering too much resistant, and I'm ready to be about the business of pleasure. I've not had an orgasm since Christian and now that I've had the experience, my body is anxious to experience those feelings again.

As much as, my body is aching for another orgasm, craving Luke I'm not ready for full-on intercourse. From Christian, I've gained some understanding of the principles of pleasure, and I know there's more than one way to bring a woman to her peak. He used several of them on me. Christian has gone out of his way to being a class A jerk to me; still I'm not prepared to relinquish the title of being his. He said it so often and convincingly during our coupling that I actually took it as gospel. Yes, the words turned out to be hollow, but they mean something to me, and I want to cling to them; as long as I can. It's the only thing that validates my feeling...that I didn't make it up, for one moment in time he wanted me, and I was his. I may no longer have my virginity to offer the next love of my life. But I want to be able to say to him while he may not be my first, he's the only other man to have me so completely. Then and only then will I stop being his...And start being his.

I had a lot of take a ways from my time with Christian, but the most useful now is the proof that you can have an equally explosive orgasm without penetration. And this is what I hope to convey to Luke. And hopefully he will understand my needs without me having to provide a long drawn out explanation. That would be a mood killer. It may be naive of me to believe there's a difference, but wholeheartedly I do so feeling my jeans with my Target panties being pulled over my bare feet; I sit up on my elbows.

"Luke," I call out my heart pounding and tossing the pants to the floor he crawls back up my body. Covering my mouth greedily, he probes as he kisses me roughly and passionately causing me to fall backward losing my train of thought. And it's the last conscious I thought I have as I surrender to Mr. Right Now. Of which he's the embodiment, as defined by Kate. He wants me.

My hands grip the duvet, as he makes his way down my body kissing and sucking as he goes. When he reaches my navel, he hits repeats and makes his way back to my chest. Eye level with my breasts, he licks the skin at the space between the swollen pair, before squeezing them together creating cleavage. At which point, he alternates biting, sucking and licking each breast. Then he releases them to focus on one of them at a time.

Starting with the left side, he brushes his tongue across the erect nipple, and this subtle touch is more arousing than the rougher manipulations. Proving to be the attentive lover, Luke listens to what my body is telling him and makes the adjustment in his touch. Popping the full mound in his mouth he sucks gingerly at the same time lightly massaging the other. The feeling is indescribable, and the sounds his mouth makes when he sucks is a straight line to down there and can I feel the moisture pooling between my legs.

The room is silent because neither of us bothered with iTunes, so our sex sounds are our only music. As he moves to switch sides, I run my hand through his hair, and he lifts his head fractionally shaking it sending his hair swinging side to side making him look like a sexy outlaw. And without saying a word he stays the course and takes the right breast in his mouth. He varies the treatment a little, by nibbling on the nipple between sucks and trailing feather kisses along the surface of the swollen mound.

He trails his feather kisses down the length of my body stopping to dip the tip of his tongue in my belly button, and I lift off the bed. Laying a palm flat on my stomach he presses me down. Holding me in place he makes his way down stopping to plant butterfly kisses on my hip bones.

Squirming in need, I wait for him to touch me there, but he comes back up to my eye level. When he wedges, between my legs I realize he's still wearing his jeans.

"You still have on your jeans?"

"Yes, I do. This way I can be assured I won't cross the line," he says, and I turn my face away from him. "And it has nothing to do with your age. Look at me," he implores, and I bring my head forward again. "I can bring you pleasure without penetration," he smiles.

"How did you know?" I whisper

"Know what?"

"What I couldn't tell you, that I wasn't ready to have sex. Not intercourse anyway."

"You told me yesterday. Not directly, but it was in your every word; I just had to listen. After all, he's put you through; you need to be made whole again. You need to be adored, cherished, and most of all made to feel like you're wanted."

"Why didn't I meet you first?"

"I am here, now," he says staring at me adoringly. "So let me give you what you need. Let me take care of you," he says reaching back to stick a finger in me.

"Ah," I moan and my back arches.

"You're so wet," he says huskily. Removing his finger from inside me, he captures me in a kiss absorbing mine every sigh and moan.

Going back down, he immediately goes to my core. His head between my legs, he spreads my folds giving him better access to the bundle of nerves at the center. He blows over the nub making me quiver. Then he starts nibbling and lapping at my juices. Squirming I almost lose my mind, when he sticks his finger in me again, followed by another making a motion that allows him to find a spot that I didn't know existed.

Manipulating it relentlessly, he makes me mewl and scream out in pleasure. The feeling is intense, and it feel as if I'm about to go to the bathroom, so I get nervous and frantically call for him to stop.

"Relax. You'll be okay. Just give in and let go," he smiles, and I look at him in confusion. And on cue, he rubs at the area with more intensity sending me into orbit.

As my release pours from me, I rise from the bed like the exorcist babbling incoherently, and I do what he said...I let go.

"One down," he says very proudly of himself.

"Steele it's about time."

"Sorry, I've been busy."

"Anastasia Steele. You've got a man?"

"How do you know?"

"I haven't heard this much cheer in your voice before or after Christian. Now spill."

"There's nothing to spill. I'm following your creed."

"Really, I thought you abandoned that idea after Nick."

"Well, I did until I saw him."

"So tell me what his name? I want to hear all about him."

"There's nothing to tell, we're keeping things light. Isn't that the key? Don't get invested."

"Ana Steele, you go to Harvard and turn into me. But you have to give me something."

"Okay, he's really good looking. I mean like Christian good looking."

"Of course he is. Because apparently that's how you roll... Even red headed Copper is a cutie, and I have to admit bonehead Jose is a looker too. Speaking of Copper can you please call him, his friend cornered me."

"I will. I texted him yesterday, so I don't understand the problem."

"He's sweet on you."

"Well, we discussed it and he knows I'm not up for a long distance relationship. Or a relationship at all. He's at Stanford, so he's okay with being friends."

"If you say so. Hey, where's your Mr. Right Now?"

"He went out to pickups some things."

"So you're alone."

"Yep."

"Good. Since you're collecting songs like pennies, I have one for you. And I think it's perfect. I know you've heard it but, hold on. I'm going to pull it up from my iPod. Hang on."

The phone on speaker, I rest it on the bed next to me and with my back against the headboard I listen to Ella Henderson's "Ghost"

I keep going to the river to pray

'Cause I need something that can wash out the pain

And at most I'm sleeping all these demons away

But your ghost, the ghost of you

It keeps me awake

**A/N: **Thank you for reading…send me a review


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Love Never Fails

FSOG belongs to EL James

**A/N:** Someone asked, all characters are the same ages as in the book except for Ana and Mia. Thank you for reading and reviewing

Sorry for the inconvenience I mistakenly posted the wrong chapter.

Luke is deep in a conversation with me by the time he walks through the bedroom door, that I feel bad at having to give him the hand. My palm to him, I mouth one second while simultaneously engaging in a phone conversation with Copper. Not exactly pleased politely he does adhere, but not before shooting daggers at me. And I'm not sure if he's irked because of the hand or at hearing of Copper's name.

Taking up residence on the edge of the bed, he gives me the universal hand movement for hurry up, and I nod my head trying to express to him that I'm trying. The call should've ended long before Luke came back, but Copper is long-winded and likes to belabor a point.

"Okay Copper, I promise I will. Bye," I say hurriedly relieved at having an opening to get him finally off the phone. Kate is convinced that I'm guilty of transference. Substituting Copper for Jose, but I'm not buying her 5 cent psychology. However, I will admit that it's nice to have a guy to talk to again to balance out the estrogen from my two best friends.

From his position perched on the edge, leaning on his elbows Luke unfurls my legs from under my body, before yanking on them dragging me to the edge of the bed. His eyes, make his intentions clear, and I can feel the desire pooling in my belly.

"Who's Copper?" Luke asks as he starts to tug seductively at his Joe Boxers with the smiley face pulling them down my legs.

"Do you really want to talk about Copper now?" I breathe heavily.

"Yes," he says huskily and his eyes burn into me. "I do." His eyes locked on me he slides off the bed dropping to his knees bringing me further to the edge with him and tossing the boxers to the floor. There's a hint of jealousy in his voice, and it's unexpected.

"You're jealous and I haven't decided how I should feel about it. Incensed or…Aah,"I exhale and I'm meant to say something, but when Luke with his face planted between my legs runs his tongue along my slit I forget everything.

"Yes I'm jealous," he pants lifting his head fractionally before going back to licking and lapping my juices. Losing my mind I try to squirm, but he has me pinned to the bed by his arms. "This is my time," he murmurs his mouth covered in my juices and his breath hitting at that bundle of sensitive nerves that makes me ache for him.

"Yes," I say panting so hard I almost want to beg him for penetration.

"You're so receptive. You're making my job easy," he chuckles as he feels my back arching from the bed every time he sticks his finger in and out of me. And I don't know if I should be insulted by, "easy" being bandied about. Regardless I'll have to adjudicate it later; right now I don't want him stop whatever it is he's doing.

When I'm about to scream for more, Luke pulls his finger out of me freeing up his to hand to part my folds gaining access to what is now my favorite sensory part. Then with the tip of his tongue he makes slow, purposeful circles around the nub. My whole body arches off the bed, unable to handle the feeling. "Oh Luke," I moan and he pulls back exchanging his tongue for his fingers and with his masterful fingers he starts manipulating the bundle of nerves. Gently massaging it between his thumb and index finger, applying the perfect amount of pressure controlling my orgasm. Enough to keep me on the precipice, but not send me over the edge. "You're so beautiful, I want to commit every inch of you to memory," he says, his voice taking on a serious tone. And I'm forced up on elbows to see why.

Luke is sitting back on his heels, his hands separating my folds as he stares at me in awe but no longer offering any stimulation. I feel exposed, vulnerable and oddly like an intruder invading on his private moment though it's my body on display. Glancing up he makes eye contact with me blue eyes to blue we stare at each other, but no words pass between us, but something more powerful does. Uncomfortable, I surprise him and myself by fighting to get to my feet.

"What's wrong?" he asks as I shift to get away from him. "Where are you going?" Panicked, he gets to his feet too.

"I need some air, I feel like I'm suffocating," I mumble running out the room in just the t-shirt. Seeing that there are limited places to hide, and I'm not exactly dressed for the outdoors, I settle on the guest bedroom.

When I'm over my meltdown, I gather up my belongings and go in search of Luke. I find him sitting on the sofa just as perplexed as when I left him in his bedroom

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks when he sees me lurking on the perimeter of the living room.

"I'm not sure there's anything to talk about," I say fidgeting, shifting the Target bag from hand to hand.

"Why don't we start with why you ran," he says walking across the room, and when he closes the distance he tries taking the bag from me but I jerk it back.

"No. I think I should get going this is starting to turn into more than I'd bargain for," I say reluctantly.

"Funny, I thought sex minus the fucking with no commitment was precisely what you wanted," he says derisively.

"Wow. Okay," I say sarcastically blinking wildly. "You've just proved my point. What I wanted were no complications. This is complication." And my bag on my arm, I fold them across my chest. Shaking his head, Luke stalks past me to the counter snatching his keys.

"Come on let's go," he says irritation in his voice.

"No, I called a cab," I say and Luke sighs dejectedly.

"Really, Rebecca or whatever the fuck your name is. Don't you think I deserve an explanation? Not more than 5 minutes ago I was between your legs? Fuck, I still have the taste of you on my lips," he spits out.

"This is why I'm leaving. This little argument we're having right now. I tossed caution to the wind and on a whim let go of my inhibitions. To do something out of the norm for me. Live in the moment, have fun, and not worry about my actions. Act my age, because apparently 17-year-old girls are incapable of making sensible, sound decisions. They behave badly and sleep around," I say my voice dripping with sarcasm. "So yes I wanted to experience what it would be like to be my own age and yes have sex without the commitment. So sue me I wanted to be free to feel something, even if it was ashamed. At least it was something other than this pain that has devoured me. But foolishly I gave you the power. I wanted you to take me away from my problems, not add to them." I'm brutally honest leaving Luke speechless. The Target bag on my arm I pick up my backpack and storm to the door letting myself out.

"When did my life become a soap opera," I breathe out I plopping down on the dorm room bed. The next few weeks will be my first time staying in a dorm. I've shared the apartment with Kate from day one, so I'm looking forward to the experience. However, this isn't how I envisioned the start of my stint at Harvard. I'm not close to being over Christian and his shenanigans to begin to entertain the idea of getting involved with someone else. Too bad too, because, at any other time in my life, I would be all over Luke. Bewildered that someone with his good looks and charisma would be interested in me. But this isn't any other time in my life, this is the period now known as AC, after Christian. Like the Bible, my life can be divided into two distinctive periods, BC and AC, before Christian and after Christian. Resigned to how pathetic I am, I fall backward on the bed like I'm falling into the snow. Staring up at the ceiling, I count every mark I see making up stories on the origin until my phone rings.

"Snow,"

"Lulu," I say excitingly and I jump up from the bed. "Perfect timing. You always know when to call me."

"I wish that were true. I don't call you enough, but thank you for not making me feel guilty. Something is wrong, have you been crying? Still pining over that guy."

"No and Yes. I haven't been crying, but I am pining."

"Well, that's to be expected Sweetie. You're too sensitive for your own good and he's your first love. The first guy you gave yourself too. It's going to take some time, don't be too hard on yourself. Take me, for example, I'm not 100% over..." She stops short of saying his name, but I know what she's eluding to. A few years ago, Lulu fell in love and it didn't work out and she's been reeling ever since. She's never admitted it, but I believe it's why she's so restless and unable to put down roots. "Enough about me, this is about you. I have on my calendar that you should be at Harvard this week. So I wanted to check in on you.

"I'm here now, but Monday officially. Sorry, I didn't call or text it's been crazy."

"Crazy huh, you've met a guy already?

"How did you know?"

"Educated guess and only a man can put crazy in a woman's voice. Another woman can make you act crazy, but only a man will make you act and sound crazy," she cracks the rear joke and it's been a long time since I've heard Lulu laugh. "Hopefully he's closer to your age." And just like that serious Lulu is back.

"A little closer, but there's no need talking about him. It's fizzled out already."

"It's for the best if you ask me. It's too soon. I want you to enjoy your time and stay away from boys. That means all of them, young and old," she teases.

"I plan to," I giggle.

"Now you sound like my Snow. On that note, I'm going to end the call. But before I go I wanted you to know that I'm going to be off the grid for a while. I'm so sorry to be so unavailable while you're struggling so much, but I trust Katherine to take care of you."

"Lulu are you in trouble? You sound defeated. I hear a lot of American accents in the background. Wait are you in the Country?

"Very perceptive. I am, but I'm leaving and sweetie I was only in for a day. So I didn't have time to try and connect with you. But please know I will be back for graduation. Take care I gotta get going," she says and like that the line goes dead. I hold the phone to my ear long after the call has ended yearning to have a face to face conversation with Lulu.

I know Kate can't understand why after all these years, I hold her in such high regards, but Lulu has been in the trenches with me. She sacrificed a lot, so could I have a chance at a better life and if I'm honest I'm partially to blame for her nomadic life too. Knowing full well that if she hadn't so unselfishly offered her body and soul up there would be a different end to my story. So I don't take lightly what she's done for me, and I'm determined to make her proud; and despite, the noise around me I will never abandon her.

I can't believe it's almost, 2am and I'm wide awake. My mind is too fixated on Christian. I hate to admit it, but Luke was a nice distraction. And I wish I could tiptoe to his room right now and crawl up in bed next to him. It was comforting being in his arms, but it didn't give me the same rush as being in Christian's. They're equally as strong, defined and soft at the same time, but not his. Nothing about Luke is quite the same, he comes close, but just shy of measuring up. That doesn't make him less than, heck he's a perfect man; he's just not Christian. And it's depressing to know that no one will ever be Christian for me. I turn on my side, to look at the big moon, resigned to forever be in love with someone I can't have.

I wake to a thud and turning, seeing an attractive blonde standing with her eyes wide. "I'm so sorry, I was trying so hard not wake you," she says apologetically rushing towards my bed. "I'm Amanda your roommate for the session," she says offering me her hand.

"Hi Amanda," I say squinting and nearly missing the outstretched hand "What time is it?" My voice is full of sleep but when I hear her mumble "oh one of them" I perk up. It was not my meant for my ears, but I heard it.

"Excuse me," I say, my dander up.

"Sorry, that didn't sound right. Let me explain. I'm an older student, but I remember what it was like back in the day. Late nights and even later mornings," she stumbles over her words, but I give her the benefit of the doubt.

Reaching over to the bedside table I pick up my iPhone no longer depending on her to give me the time. When I see it's after 12 pm, I'm embarrassed and now I feel the need to explain.

"Look, Amanda, it's not what you think. I had a hard time sleeping and it had nothing to do with partying too hard."

"Anastasia right?" she asks.

"Yes, but you can call me Ana."

"Okay, Ana. You don't owe me an explanation."

After getting off to a rocky start, Amanda and I found our footing. I helped her get organized and we did the whole roommates thing. Officially picking sides of the room and covering our pet peeves. We even went shopping together and ended our day with dinner at a local burger joint near campus. Fully expecting Luke to call, I checked my phone nonstop. Lame I know, considering I was the one to walk out on him. But I thought he was into me enough to chase after me. Alas, I was only bombarded with texts from Kate and Copper, with one lone one from Ray. And I feel guilty for not calling Ray when I first arrived so I've added call Ray to my to-do list for the weekend.

At the end of another long day, I find myself in familiar terrain, counting spots on the ceiling. But like every other antidote I've tried it does not work and I would break down and call Luke except for the simple fact that I don't have his number. A small detail that had escaped me until it dawned on me, why he hadn't called. He couldn't if he wanted, he didn't have my number. Just as well, we could never go anywhere. He would always be a rebound, a consolation prize and I would always be longing for what I could never have.

"No," I yell. My nightmare so vivid it causes me to sit upright in bed shaking like a leaf.

"Roomie, are you okay?" Amanda asks as she turns on her bedside lamp.

"Yes. I just a bad dream. Go back to sleep. I'm fine," I say lying because I'm far from fine. Laying on my side away from Amanda, I whimper as the tears run down my cheek. And I wonder when will it get better, when will I stop wanting him.

"Oh, my. If I were not gay, I would be all over him," Amanda purrs pulling Jasmine and me out of our conversation. Jasmine is the newest member of the brat pack. "Mr. tall and handsome over there looking like the reincarnation of James Dean." She gestures with her head. Turning I see Luke, looking very preppy, my favorite style if I had one. He looks so anxious standing on the sidewalk at the bottom of the steps with a flower in his hand.

But he really is handsome, I sold him short. His blonde hair is neatly tucked behind his ears, showing off his chiseled features. And in khakis, blue polo, and a jacket the same color he looks ready for a photo shoot with Ralph Lauren, Tommy Hilfiger or J. Crew. Amanda says James Dean, but I don't see it. Luke has his own distinctive look and he's yummy.

I'm fairly confident he's there for me, but I'm not one hundred percent sure so I will only move if I see a convincing sign. Focusing I can see he's calling to me with his eyes and then I start descending the steps at a rapid pace forgetting about my newfound friends leaving them staring in awe.

"Hi," I say when I'm standing in front of him.

"Hi," he says giving me a small smile. "Want to start over?" He asks and I nod.

"I'm Ana. My name is Ana."

"Ana that's more like it. It's a better fit than Rebecca. Here this is for you," he says handing me the single Gerber daisy.

"Thank you," I say sniffing the flower. "How did you know where to find me?"

"I did some investigation, utilizing the tricks of the trade," he says taking a step forward. "Will you have dinner with me?"

"Yes," I say.

"We'll need to walk to my jeep, I couldn't find a space closer. Here let me have your backpack," he says and I willingly hand it to him.

On our walk to the car, almost every girl we encountered on the route either blatantly flirted with him or ogled him. And not beyond being catty, I grab his hand to walk hand in hand with him the rest of the way.

"Let me have your phone," he says when we're in the jeep. I hand it to him and I watch as he types something. "I added my phone number. Now give me yours. "

All numbers entered, we take a short ride to a small Italian restaurant nestled among college storefronts and bars. At dinner, we decide to focus on our meals and table our discussion for when we're alone. The place is small and intimate, not appropriate for a discussion that may become heated.

Standing at the threshold of Luke's apartment, I have the trepidation I should've had a few days ago. The expectation that comes with being alone in a hot guy's apartment. Not the irrational fear of being killed by a sexy serial killer. Timidly, I walk further in the dimly lit space staring ahead at the one light illuminated in the distance. With my back to him, I can feel Luke creeping up behind me and I flinch infinitesimal when he put his arms around my waste already aroused waiting for his touch.

"Come to bed with me," he whispers against the skin at the crook of my neck and I can feel his erection at my back.

"Why?" I mewl, as I tilt my head back to give him better access to my neck. To my ear.

"Not to sleep," he says huskily and with his front to my back and his arms wrapped snuggly around my waist he starts walking us forward. Resting my hands on his arms and leaning into his chest my desires grow as we take short, deliberate steps to the bedroom.

Lifting a hand from his arm, I offer my assistance with the door. And as soon as, I see his bed all the blood rushes down there and the nerves start pulsating like it has its own heartbeat.

"I don't want to rush you like last time. Do you want to do this?" he murmurs and he bites down on my earlobe eliciting a moan from me.

"Can't you ever play fair?" I exhale softly.

"Fair went out the window, the moment I saw you," he says lifting his head from my ear. "Now answer me," he says as he confidently lets his hand slide down to the waistband of my jeans to start working on the button. And as my head lolls back to his hard chest he moves to the zipper.

"I think you know the answer already," I sigh and from behind me I feel him stepping out of his shoes.

"Maybe I want to hear you say it," he says huskily and I feel his fingers tantalizing my skin as they dance across my taut stomach to the waistband of my panties.

"Yes." I breathe when I feel his fingers touch my pubic area as he makes his slow torturous way down my panty and I feel a shiver pass through my body in anticipation.

"Yes, what?" he asks as he sticks a finger in me. And since my back is to his front I have to wrap my arms around him in reverse clutching his muscular cheeks so I can stay upright when my knees buckle.

"You smell so good," he whispers."

"Anjou, pear with a hint of fig," I babble as I rub against his erection. "I want this," I moan and he pulls his finger out forcing it in my mouth.

"Suck," he demands and the domineering tone is hot. I like this Luke. So eager to please I suck on his finger with no thought of the taste. It's the furthest thing from my mind. Instead, I do my best to re-enact the phallic imagery that came to his mind when he saw the pen at my bottom lip.

"Fuck me," Luke says loudly, "what I wouldn't give to have that mouth around my dick." And removing his finger, he spins me around and picks me up bridal style carrying me to the bed. Then he makes quick work of my converse.

He's put in most of the work on my jeans, so it doesn't take him long to do away with them too. My panties, on the other hand, are a different story, and that's because he's using them as a sex toy. Tugging the elastic band in his hand, the fabric has bunched in a perfect v formation that he then uses to pull between my folds rubbing against the bundle of nerves at the center. The more tautly he pulls, the more pressure on the nerve bundle which makes me cry out and writhe in need.

Looking down at me, Luke has a sinister grin on his face and his blue eyes are dancing with darkness, a part of me wonders what he has in store for me next. Meanwhile the other half, craves what he might have in store for me. The darker, the better. Staying silent, letting is eyes do the telling, Luke pulls my panties down and I can feel how soaked they are from my wetness as they make the way down my legs. Fully clothes, he roughly parts my legs and that alone makes my body squirm. Wedging into the space, he rests his hands on the inside of my upper thighs, and as he lowers himself I can see his bicep muscles peeking from the sleeves of his shirt.

His face buried between my legs, Luke sticks his tongue between my fold and the stroke is a downward licking motion applied with maximum pressure. The stroke is from one end of the fold to the other and he accentuates his movement by doing seductive flexes with his biceps using my thighs as leverage. It's hot and I really wish he'd had his shirt off so I could get the full effect of the motion.

When he plunges the tip of his tongue in my opening, my body bows off the bed and he has to release my thighs freeing his hands to hold me in place. Coming up for air he sticks a finger in me before bringing it to my mouth where he seductively lets the finger glide over first my bottom lip then my top. Painting my lips with my juices before he captures my mouth. Greedily he sucks on my lips savoring my taste on them. Again I'm not bothered by my taste and when he plunges his tongue into my mouth imploring me to suck I do. So hard and feverishly he has to nudge me to get it back.

"You're such an expert, I should give you something else to suck." His words are raw and turning me on with every syllable. Breathing hard, I wait for him to make good on his promise/threat to fill my mouth with him, but he doesn't. He makes his way back down my body to my core. Using his hands to part my folds, he flicks at the nub with his tongue before sucking on it. And then he starts nibbling and gently biting before moving to his fingers for the final stimulation.

The bundle of nerves between his thumb and index finger, Luke expertly kneads and rubs until I'm ready to explode. His relentless manipulation takes me to the peak and I can feel my body contracting as my orgasm overtakes me. When I'm coming down from my climax, Luke is standing on his knees between my legs and I can see his erection poking through the fabric of his pants. Sitting up, I reach for his belt, but grabbing my wrist he stops me.

"What are you doing?" he asks speculatively.

"What you want me to do," I say coquettishly.

"No, I'm good. Pleasing you is enough for me."

"No. You're far from good, you're about burst out of your pants. Let me take care of you." I plead to him with my eyes. In need, his resolve has weaken so Luke easily surrenders?

Climbing over my legs, he rids himself of his pants and briefs giving me time to get into place.

This is my first view of his erection. It's impressive and if I hadn't seen Christian's it would be very impressive. Christian's has a little more length and girth on Luke's. But if he were putting it in me, his would probably fit me better. Though very enjoyable, Christian's was a lot to take. But I brush the comparison aside to focus on the beautiful member in front of me now.

Luke resting against the headboard with an arm behind his head, I kneel between his legs and take his erection into my hand. Unsure what to do, I do what comes naturally. Applying a lot of pressure, I squeeze hard going up and down his shaft slowing when I get to the tip so I can lick it. Getting acclimated to the taste of his juices preparing myself for when I will have his cock in my mouth.

"Damn Ana, that feels good," he moans and I smile a smile of triumph. It's empowering knowing what my touch is doing to him. This spurs me on and with more vigor I pump harder and faster bringing him to his climax. As his release spurts out, I stick my tongue out letting some of his cum drip on the tip.

Standing on my knees between his legs, I salaciously show my enjoyment at having his cum on my tongue by rimming it over my lips. His dark eyes locked on me Luke reaches out pulling me to him, where he roughly seeks out my mouth and sucks at my tongue. Flipping me over, he plunders my mouth taking my breath away as I feel his now flaccid member rubbing against my thigh.

"Fuck, I can't get enough of you," he says huskily before releasing me and rolling out of bed.

"Where are you going?" I whisper.

"To get cleaned up, before I fuck you for real." Smiling I get up to the do the same, but in a different bathroom.

When I come out the shower, the bed is ready for me. Like in an expensive hotel, the covers are pulled back, the only things missing are the chocolate and the man. So I go in search of the man. Entering the dimly lit living room I see Luke seated on the sofa deep in thought.

"Luke," I say softly and he looks up. He looks lost. "Are you okay?" I ask as I make my way to him.

"What are you doing to me?" He asks and I don't answer knowing it's an outward utterance of his inner musings. So I let the words linger in the air planting myself on the carpeted floor at his feet resting my head on his lap. And tangling his hand in my dampen hair, he starts massaging my head.

"That feels good," I murmur and burrow into his lap.

"Your hair is still wet," he says softly.

"I know," I whisper and he sighs.

"I was engaged and my fiancé called it off a month before the wedding," he says out of the blue his voice measured. Paying attention to his cues I force myself to stay silent and let him talk.

"So you see me reading your mannerisms wasn't that impressive after all. I was so good because not long ago I was in your shoes. I knew the cues well. I was a 21-year-old young man madly in love with his fiancé then out of nowhere she calls the wedding off. I was devastated, too devastated to stick around to find out why. The very next morning, unbeknownst to anyone I enlisted in the military soon going into the Marine Corp. I just wanted to be as far away as possible from anything that reminded me of her so the dangers of war wasn't a deterrent. In my irrational thinking, the pain overshadowed any foreseeable danger and I wanted to be a part of something bigger than me," he says as he methodically rubs my hair

"I can understand," I murmur.

"Trust me there's nothing like a war to trivialize a broken heart," he chuckles nervously

"I bet," I sigh nodding my head against his thigh.

"I met Alison the last semester of high school and by my final year at Yale I'd ask her to marry me. Before meeting her, I was considered a player. My good looks and money allowed me to get away with behaving badly. I'm not boasting it was the sad truth back then and to a certain extent it is now too I guess. But from the moment I met Alison, I knew she was the one and from that day forward I was devoted to her and only her. So when she ended it, I felt adrift unable to deal with the pain of losing her. The military provided me some solace helping me to put things into perspective. So when I was honorably discharged about a year later, I floundered a bit until I found a new life in Seattle. Regrettably, I reverted to old patterns. Still harboring the residual feelings of losing the love of my life and promising to never let myself become that vulnerable again; I went from relationship to relationship, if you want to call a week a relationship. Some people would call me a man whore, I called it survival," he says.

"How did you get over it? Over her?" I ask more for me than for him.

"To be honest, I don't know if there is a how or when. But is true what they say." And I feel his eyes boring into the back of my head. "Time is a healer. All I know is that one morning I woke up and she wasn't my first thought. I wasn't reminiscing about only the good times anymore, I let the bad become a part of the narrative too. And soon she no longer existed in every face I saw in the crowd, in every song I heard on the radio, or in the places we use to go. But the pivotal moment came when I felt my heart beat and it was no longer beating for her." I let out an audible sigh. The statement is profound, it sends chills through me and I feel tears on my face and I have to shift to wipe them away.

"Have you seen or spoken to her since?" I ask softly.

"No. Why would I?"

"To find out why she did it. I don't know get closure."

"Closure," he snickers. "Closure is overrated. Closure is what people say they want when they can't have what they want."

"Well that's cynical," I say and this time I am guilty of transference. I want closure.

"Maybe so, but it's the truth. There was nothing she could've said that would've brought me closure. The only closure I needed was her. Words couldn't give me closure. So fuck closure," he says dismissively and I know it's a front. It still stings. So raising my head clumsily I get to my feet and hovering over him I give him the biggest hug I can considering the position. And circling his arms around my body he pulls me tightly to him like I'm the life raft he's been waiting for. Then I get it. This is what he needed from me the other day when I so foolishly ran.

"Thank you for trusting me with your story," I whisper as I blow strands of his hair from my mouth.

"Come on let's go to bed its late and you were tired an hour ago," he says rubbing his hands down my back. And I think he's going to get up, but I feel him tugging at my shirt.

"I thought we were going to bed," I say pulling back slightly

"We are," he says his eyes wanton. "But I neglected two things earlier," he says huskily as he continues bringing the shirt up forcing my arms upright. "So I want to change that." Determined, he throws the shirt down wrapping an arm around me, he braces against the sofa as he stands and I wrap my legs around his waist. Feasting on my breasts, Luke walks slowly down the corridor to the bedroom with me wrapped around him like a vine.

My back to his front, I pull the arm around my waist tighter as I snuggle into him. "In a very short time I've gotten used to this. I had a hard time sleeping the last couple of nights," I say.

"I might've been restless too," he say nuzzling his face in my hair, "without you," he says and I sigh a sigh of contentment.

"How did you find out? That she was backing out of the wedding I mean."

"She sent me a letter."

"Oh wow, I'm sorry," I say. "How did it make you feel?"

"Hey, babe can we talk about this tomorrow. Let's get some sleep," he says and he kisses me on my head pulling and snuggling up to me.

"You're dressed," he says breathing hard and wiping at his face with the towel when he walks in from his run.

"Yeah I didn't want to be in your way when you got back," I say tenderly walking up to the kitchen counter, oblivious to the storm brewing. And I watch as he gets a bottled water from the refrigerator.

"They're two bathrooms so you wouldn't have been in my way," he says slamming the bottle on the counter in front of me, but not looking at me.

"Luke are you okay? You seem preoccupied?"

"I'm fine. Let me take a shower and I'll take you home," he says, walking around the counter to head to his room, looking beyond me. Suddenly I feel like an unwelcomed guest.

"I can, take a cab you know," I say nonchalantly trying to mask my hurt feelings.

"Ana, I'll take you home, just give me time to shower. So can you please wait and be patient," he says condescendingly, surprising me with his coldness. I thought we had a breakthrough last night so his behavior is unexpected. So like a petulant child, I stalk past him on my way to the sofa where I pout.

The ride to my dorm room was quiet, we rode in silence suddenly uncomfortable in each other's presence.

"I've neglected a lot of things so I'm going to need to play catch up," he says when he pulls up in front of my dorm. Giving me the polite brush-off.

"Fine, I understand. You don't have to make excuses. We've gotten more mileage out of this than expected," I say and I lean over giving him a kiss on the cheek. "See you around." And feeling my lips quiver I hurry out of the jeep before a tear falls. I'm not broken up about the abrupt end to our little tryst, I don't know him well enough. But after last night, I was expecting him to stop me. So I'm confused and it's a major blow to my already wounded spirit.

"Ana," Amanda says when I walk in the door."

"Hi." My voice is flat.

"I thought you would be swinging from the rafters after spending the night with that heartthrob; instead you look like you've lost your puppy," she says.

"Just a lot on my mind. Don't pay any attention to me," I say, continuing to the bathroom and letting the door slam behind me I rest my hand on the sink and quietly sob.

It's been a couple of days since I last saw Luke, and the way things ended I have no reason to believe I ever will again. Initially I was upset, mainly because of the damage to my fragile ego, but once the dust settled and I came to my senses. I realize it was for the best. It was quickly becoming the kind of distraction, I did not need. I'd convinced myself that I'd been evolved enough to handle the whole intimacy without commitment hypocrisy but if I'd been honest with myself, of which I rarely am, I'd known I was not.

What this has taught me is that I'm a card-carrying member of the unlucky in love club. I've failed at relationships imaginary and real. This time I'm really going to bury Kate's absurd strategy for getting over Christian. I've tried it twice and it's getting progressively worse so I'm going to take heed at what the universe is trying to tell me. Speaking of bad advice Katherine Kavanagh she's calling.

"Hi Kate," I say accepting her call.

"Steele, what's up?" she ask.

"You called me, you tell me," I say.

"You're the one sounding like your down in the dumps,"

"Geez am I that transparent? Even over the phone people can read me," I tease.

"Sorry Ms. Goody Two Shoes, you wear your feelings on your sleeves. So now tell me what or who has you down," she says.

"Silly really, I was having a relatively good time with that guy until he starting acting weird. In your humble opinion do think I should call him?" I ask

"Why?" she asks, speculatively

"What do you mean why?" I sigh.

"I mean what's the end game? It's supposed to be quick, everyone gets out and no one gets hurt. The way I see it, he's held up his end of the bargain, now you need to do the same," she says matter a fact.

"When you put it that way, it sounds tawdry and dirty."

"It's supposed to be, the more tawdry, the better."

"I guess you're right."

"Of course I'm right, I've done this before. But you my dear suck at it, you're expectations are too high. So back away from the table and leave it to the big girls," she says deadpan and I can't help to laugh and I make a scraping sound with my chair.

"Hear that. That's me backing away from the table. I will leave it alone. Enough about me how are things with you and Elliot?"

"Going along swimmingly. You may not want to hear this but…" I know she's about to say something about Christian, but I stop her.

"Kate, if it's about Christian I don't want to hear it. In fact, I don't want you discussing me with Elliot and please tell me you haven't shared with him what I've been up to since arriving in Boston?" One of the things that keep me up at night is the hell Christian would rain down on me if he thought I was violating any of his terms. I have to intentions of spending a dime of his money, but I do plan on adhering to every letter of his law.

"Steele, do you think I'm crazy. When you get a boyfriend is when I will let it slip," she sighs.

"Whatever. But please don't talk about me with Elliot? Look I've got to get going but I will take your advice to heart," I say.

"Okay, take care of yourself and at the end of the day do what's best for you," she says and we end our call.

The one good thing that has come out of this is, I've been able to get my head back in the game and focus on why I'm here. I'd been very contained when talking about this program, but it's a big deal and I'm extremely proud and excited to be a part of it. It's still early, but so far it has delivered. By the program end's I'd experience more in one month than I had in my entire time at WSU.

When we visit Silicon Valley for our field trip, Copper is threatening to drive up and I'm not sure I want to visit with him in his natural habitat. It may give him an upper hand, and I want to keep our relationship platonic. After the quick delusion of things with Luke, I'm not anxious to have anything but a friendship with another guy.

I'm not taken aback by the actual breakup as the timing. It came on the heel of his very poignant and heartfelt confession. I felt a connection between us I would've explored and I thought he felt it too. Alas, I need to get better at reading men. While I'm here, I need to check to see if there are any classes I could take. A certificate from one of the pre-eminent universities in the country would give me some street cred on the matter.

"Have you changed your mind about going out with us? Amanda asks when she exits the bathroom.

"No, I've gotten into my schoolwork so I want to keep pounding it out."

"Good for you. Jasmine and I were just talking about how dedicated you are. So we get why you're so advanced," she says.

"Well the two of are no slouches either," I smirk

"I know, but we're not as discipline as you. I will admit I am a bit more than Jasmine."

"Yeah, what's up with Jazz? She missed classes yesterday?"

"A guy what else," she sighs. "You young ladies can't resist the "D," she jokes.

"Well the only reason you can, is because you don't go that way."

"Hell yeah, but I have my eyes for one of those hot co-eds," she winks grabbing her keys and heading out the door.

Seeing Amanda, passed out from her late night, makes me giddy. Glad that I stuck to my guns and stayed home. What a difference a few days make, not too long ago she was throwing slang at me, accusing me of doing what she is doing right now. My backpack on my shoulders, I put my earplugs in my ear and find the new music Amanda put me on to; Liz Wright. The sweet sounds of her soothing voice, in my ear I make my way into the crisp cool morning air. The coldness knocks any lingering sleepiness out of me and with a newfound pep in my step I make my way to the Library.

It's early on a Friday morning, so very few students are stirring. So my path is unencumbered making it possible for me to do three things at the same time; walk, listen to music, and think about my plans for the weekend. I'd been so deep in planning my dull weekend, it startled me when I feel a hand on my arm, pulling me around.

"Luke," I say breathing hard with a hand resting on my chest. "You scared me," I say and I reach up taking out the buds from my ears.

"Sorry. But I'd been calling to you as I tried catching up but you wouldn't stop," he says taking the buds from my hand and pulling on them until they detach from my phone. "You shouldn't be walking around campus with these in your ears." And he rolls them up handing them back to me.

"I'll keep that in mind," I say sarcastically taking the buds and putting them in my pocket. "What are you doing here?" I ask, my tone clip.

"Looking for you," he says reaching for my arm and I jerk away from his touch. "Babe, don't be that way."

"Babe," I hiss. Peeved, that he thinks he can us that term with me. "Excuse you. You don't have the right to call me baby, babe or any form of the noun. I haven't heard from you in days. I don't know what you want from me. You come after me. You get me. You push me away. I'm done. I've been there done that I've got the t-shirt. So I will not be trampled on by another a-hole," I scowl.

"Don't you dare compare me to him," he seethes.

"Why not? If the shoe fits, well you know the rest," I snipe and I turn to walk away.

"Ana you're acting like a brat," he says loudly and I swing around glaring at him so hard that if looks could kill he would be on the ground.

"You're treading on thin ice. You didn't, just called me a brat? Why am I a brat? Tell me. Because I've finally decided to stand up for myself? When a woman stands up for herself, you men feel it necessary to put her in her place. Belittling her with your hate speech," I snarl preparing to spit out more vitriol, but he interrupts me.

"Provocative...Right fight, wrong person," he says stepping closer to me "That's met for him. Here's the thing I'm not him. And I know what I want, it just took a little soul searching to get me there. I love you," he says and for the first time since Christian threaten me I bite my bottom lip. Putting his hand on my chin he pulls my lip from between my teeth, "you don't have to say it back. It would concerned me if you did. I know you're in love with him," he says softly. Flabbergasted, I have to take a moment to catch my breath.

"Luke, ironically I've done what you're asking before and it didn't work out so well. So as pretty as your words are and as tempting as your offer is, I'm not anxious to push repeat, it's the definition of insanity. Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome."

"Stop comparing me to your past failures. There are a lot of definitions of insanity, what I'm doing now is insane. Confessing my undying love to a woman who is clearly in love with someone else. Everything about this says run away, but here's the thing the further I run away the closer it brings me to you. Look, I know the cons. I've checked them off one by one. You're young and it's not a knock it's the truth. You have so much life to experience, with its ups and downs. And I'm fine with that; as long as, I'm the one sharing it with you. But the biggest con, you're unequivocal love for another man. That alone should've sent me to the hills, but seeing how your body react to my touch gave me reason to believe. A part of you want this too. You're my worst nightmare, someone making feel what I promised I never would. To be this vulnerable is fucking scary. Everything about this is scary. It's a recipe for disaster, but even if it blows up in my face it would've been worth it. You're worth it. We'll take it slow. Despite, how quickly I fell, relationships are like a marathon, not a sprint," he says softly

My heart is thumping in my chest and the more he talks, the louder it beats. But it's only a reminder who it beats for. Swallowing hard, I find my voice. "Luke after what you've been through you deserve better than to be someone's sloppy second," I whisper.

"Ana at the end of the day we're all someone's second. And you're right I deserve better. But so do you," he says and I gulp. "You know there are different shades to love. It can be a slow burn or a volcanic eruption, but they're both equally exciting and intense. You've experienced the fast and furious, now let me show you the beauty in the slow and steady."

"Luke stop. This isn't fair. Why didn't I meet you first?" I whimper and he sighs.

"I'm far from a religious person, I go to church on Easter and the occasional funeral, but there's a passage in the Bible that has stuck with me. Ironically, Alison insisted that I memorize it for our wedding, it's about love. It starts like this, love is patient. I'm patient because I strongly believe you're the one. Yes, love is messy, sometimes unpretty but always life affirming. It doesn't matter if I'm first, as long as, I'm the last…The one at the end.

"Do you promise to not be easily angered and if memory serves me right it also says love never fails," I smile. "Can we not fail, my record is pretty spotty," I say teasingly

"You have my word, I won't let us fail," he says staring intently into my eyes.

_Love is patient, love is kind. It does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, and it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails._ 1 Cor

Thank you and I hope you enjoyed- please review.


	13. Chapter 13: Dear Mr Grey

Chapter 13. Dear Mr. Grey

**FSOG belongs to EL James**

Thank you for reading and reviewing

I_ crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps…..Pablo Neruda_

Christian Grey's, effect on society today, tomorrow and in the future. Christian Grey's effect on society today, tomorrow and in the future. Christian Grey's, effect on society today, tomorrow and in the future. I repeat the long highfalutin title over and over in my head and aloud as I try to come up with something appropriate to write. Let's just say I'm struggling to separate the ex-paramour Christian Grey from the subject matter, Christian Grey. And I'm doubtful my professor would find the humor in my passive aggressiveness if I wrote what I desperately want. Today he's a motherfucking asshole, tomorrow he will be a bigger motherfucking asshole and in the future he will have grown into the biggest motherfucking asshole in history. I don't know what Luke's talking about; I just got a little bit of closure with every motherfucker I scribbled, and I can't help but chuckle at how cathartic it is. My hostility is reaching its zenith; I need to take a step back. I peruse the profanity-laden gibberish marveling at how easily I not only wrote but thought of arguably the most profane word in the English language yet I find it hard to say something less offensive as ass.

Evidently, time not only changes the leaves on the trees, the lines on our faces, or tick of the clock it changes our perspective. In class; as soon as, the choice of young entrepreneurs was available Christian Grey's name was the name I coveted. Not because Christian Grey the wildly successful entrepreneur was the draw; Christian the name held the appeal. And through a weird twist of fate when his true identity became known I was all in, fast forward a few weeks and I want nothing to do with it or him.

Sitting on the bed with my legs tucked under me, surrounded by my copious research, I mull over a piece of paper trying to refocus since switching subject matter is out of the question. It's my third outline and too bad it's blank except for the word outline at the top. I'd trashed the original after reconnecting with Christian because it felt too superficial, and after he continuously insulted me the replacement felt too complimentary. Now I'm challenged with reaching a happy medium, and this is where the rubber is meeting the road.

"Hey, you," Luke says with his hands resting on the door frame as he peeks in on me. "You're quiet." Telegraphing Luke's next move, I scramble to put my hand on my disparaging handy work before he walks over. And right on time I have the paper defaming Christian crumpled and shoved in my backpack before his knee even hits the mattress. As to not give anything away, nonchalantly I lean in for his kiss to my forehead.

"Yes, I'm fine just trying to focus on this essay," I say nervously shuffling the remaining sheets of paper around on the bed and setting my borrowed laptop to the side.

"I could get used to this," he says leaning over to remove my readers. "You, sitting on my bed looking like a sexy mad scientist spreading her evil genius everywhere," he grins pushing aside the papers in front of me making room so he can plop down.

"Here I thought you liked me for my body," I tease Luke trying to conceal my guilt at having him in this close a proximity to information about Christian. It feels like he's the punch line, and I'm in on the joke.

"Correction I love your body, but I find your mind equally as hot. Now let me see what has you so stumped, maybe I can help. I may not me a child prodigy, but I have some smarts," he says wiggling his eyebrows and thumping his head with his index finger. Reaching over he snatches the paper out of my hand. "Christian Grey, huh," he says looking up from the paper. Hearing Luke read his name out loud feels even more nefarious, and I want to snatch it back. "I see why you're stuck, it's a lofty task to write about Christian Grey, and the topic isn't helping. But lucky for you; this is something I can help you with."

"What?" I ask pensively trying to suppress my fear.

"Private security is a small fraternity and I happen to be close with the guys on Grey's detail so I can call in a favor." My heart starts pounding so fast, I think I'm going to hyperventilate. I can't let Luke start digging around on my behalf, word would get back to Christian, and he would crucify me.

"I appreciate the offer, but I respectfully decline. It would feel like an unfair advantage and too much like cheating," I say recovering nicely from my initial trauma.

"Okay, I won't. But let me know if you change your mind," he says, and I hold my hand out waiting for the paper, thinking he's going to give it back to me. But he lays it on the bedside table instead. "I think you need a five-minute break," he says huskily running a hand up my thigh under the wide legs of his too large boxers. "Okay, I need a five-minute break," he winks. Once his hand has found its way under the fabric, there's no barrier so he can easily access my core, but I unfurl my legs making it that much easier. "That's my girl," he breathes against my lips before he plunges his tongue into my mouth and at the same time his finger down there.

I try to moan, but Luke's tongue is too deep in my throat for me to make a sound, and it just comes out like a muffled mmmm. Greedily he devours my mouth and the more vigorously he plunders, the harder he pumps his finger in and out of me making me undulate. His heavy breathing matches mine, and I want to be flat on my back with him on top of me like right now.

"No, no," he chastises breaking the kiss fractionally when I try to do what my body is urging me to do, slide down the headboard to the mattress. "No, this is supposed to be just a break, you have work to do." And he completely pulls out of the kiss, but for punctuation he shoves his finger deep in me making me cry out in need. Its deep enough for him to touch that spot that I now know is the G-spot.

"Open your mouth for me," he orders and happily I comply knowing full well what's coming next. "Suck," he commands pulling the finger from deep in my core sticking it in my mouth.

And I moan as I clamp down on the finger. In a relatively short time, Luke has done wonders getting me use to how I taste and most importantly used to the idea of performing fellatio on him by prepping me with the sucking of his fingers.

"Enough, you naughty girl," he pants, pulling the finger out of my mouth and immediately plunging it in his. "I need to get out of here before I strip and fuck you right here right now," he says his eyes dark and with a hard on that threatens to break the zipper on his pants. Shaking his head in mock amusement, he slowly gets up from the bed.

"Where are you going to the shower?" I tease.

"No, smarty pants," he says and he pauses. "You know it just occurred to me that when I say that to you it's not a slam, it's a truism. You are smart," he smiles tilting his head at me like he's Archimedes and he's discovered some new theory. And I half expect him to yell Eureka, Eureka.

Sighing I reach behind me and pulling out a pillow I throw it at him. "You goofball," I giggle and he puts his hands up to try blocking the feathery projectile.

"Ouch," he says feigning hurt as the pillow bounces off his muscular arms to the floor. "You're dangerous and since you asked so nicely I'm heading to campus," he says picking up the pillow tossing it back on the bed. "By the way we're hanging out tonight."

"What? Where?" I ask surprised that I'm hearing this for the first time.

"You've been working very hard of late, and you know what they say all work and no play makes Luke a dull boy," he smirks, as he starts to head out.

"Wait a minute," I call out and he pauses turning to look at me. "If I'm the one working hard, shouldn't it be all work and no play makes me dull?"

"Yes, but you could never be dull," he smirks. "I love you." And he disappears.

"In Da Club", is blaring as soon as we walk up, it's a college bar so you gotta have some 50 Cent. Luke puts his hand at the small of my back ushering me inside the crowded space; his head, shoulders, and upper body already bopping. And, by the way, they are moving in time to the beat it's obvious to everyone that he can dance, but it's not news to me. I'd known, by the way, his body undulates when we're intimate, it's in the way he walks, and in something as mundane as removing his jacket or taking a sip of water. His body has a natural rhythm that unveils itself in his every movement.

"Stay here, while I get us something to drink," he yells so I can hear him over the music as he helps me into the first empty booth we see."

"Tugging his shirt I pull him back down to whisper in his ear," I'll have a ginger ale with a splash of cranberry juice." Lifting back he chuckles, but he says nothing.

Shifting trying to get more comfortable in my seat I watch him walk away, and Luke's a sight in his white oxford shirt hanging untucked from his Levi's. I haven't been in a club since my incidence with Nick, so I'm guarded and cautious of every guy that walks up to our table asking me to dance. So to contain the nerves, I search out Luke in the crowd but to my horror a buxom blonde is hard down flirting with him. And maybe if it was one sided I wouldn't be so enraged, but Luke is actively participating in the flirt fest. Thankfully, Luke picks up the drinks and starts heading back to our table because I was about to insert myself into the mix. He stopped me from being one of those girls.

"Here you go," he says bending to put my drink down, in front of me, and then he takes a sip of his beer. And I think he's going to walk to the other side of the booth, but he nudges me on my shoulder forcing me over so he can sit next to me.

"So who was she?" I ask trying to keep the fury out of my voice. But it's there, and I have to take a sip of my pale pink drink to keep from saying something more biting.

"Who?" he ask which only makes me more irritable and I shift in my seat resting an elbow on the table, so my whole body is facing him.

"Surely you jest, Luke. You can't be that obtuse. Let me draw a picture for you. Blonde, boobs the size of melons hanging on your every word. Get the picture," I say acerbically dramatically tilting my head to one side.

"She's not important. Don't worry about it." And he says the unthinkable, don't worry about it; dumbfounded I stare him down, but he guzzles his beer like he's oblivious to the depth of my anger. Adding to my frustration, he grabs my hand pulling me out of the booth. "Let's dance," he yells leading me to the dance floor. I'm mad at him but in this environment I can't stay mad, so I table it for later.

I'm not a great dancer, heck who am I kidding; I'm not a dancer at all. And normally, I'm not intimidated to dance in front of people; I thrive on it. To me, dancing is freeing it allows me to let go of my inhibitions, regardless of my skill, but with Luke I feel butterflies in the pit of my stomach. I've got two moves, the standard college jumping up and down, and my poor reenactment of moves from dirty dancing. Saying my dance skills are limited isn't an overstatement.

Luke senses my trepidation because he pulls me to him and despite the up-tempo beat he puts an arm around me and with me in his arms he starts swaying us slowly in place. My hand in his and my head resting comfortably on his chest Luke rests his chin on the top of my head. "There could be a million girls in here and you would be the only one I see. You know that right?" Incapable of speaking I wildly blink my eyes and just listen. "Here's the thing I might've been a player but when I commit." He pauses. "I commit hard. I'm a one woman man, and you're the one woman I want. I will always be faithful to you." And lifting his head he pushes me back slightly so I can look up at him. Staring at him lovingly, I let his sentiment marinate and lay my head back on his chest, determined to not let the thumping sounds of Ke$ha take away from the moment.

Our little tiff out the way, we're free to enjoy the evening, and I watch as Luke transform from a suave dancer to a hip-hop impresario. Think from Fred Astaire to Jason Derulo. Dancing to Jeremih, "Don't Tell'em" Luke steals the show, the other dancers can barely concentrate they're so fixated on what he's doing. But as good as his dancing is, it's his lip-syncing to the song that impresses me the most. There's nothing I love more than lip-synching to hip hop so having someone in my life who does it so phenomenally well is a revelation, and it gives me pause. Maybe we are a perfect fit after all.

The DJ spins one great rap beat after another, as he goes through his masterful mix. By the time, he's reached the mid-way point, I've lost my inhibition and found my grove. I've begun to keep up with Luke. By, keeping up, I mean I'm no longer staring at him gaping, I'm actually moving. My moves are no way comparable but to Luke's credit he doesn't make me feel ridiculous, just the opposite he celebrates my herky-jerky mess masquerading as dancing. This alone makes going to a club with him far more fun than with Kate. "Hail Mary," by Tupac, the last song in the mix, starts to come to an end, so Luke steers me from the dance floor. We lip-synch the lyrics, _Come with me, Hail Mary_ at the same time waving our hands in the air as we make our way to our booth. Seeing that the booth is taken, Luke rests his hands on my shoulders directing me to the bar instead.

Drenched, from our continual dancing, Luke orders us some water. And when he has his back turned to me, I take the opportunity to feel my hair for puffiness. I elected to wear it bone straight tonight, so I want to make sure the perspiration hasn't turned it into a black cloud on the top of my head.

"You look perfect," Luke screams over the loud music as he reaches for me pulling me to his side. Twisting he positions himself with his back to the bar and his front to my back. So I'm flushed against his hard body. As I wiggle to get comfortable between his legs, Luke hands me my bottle of water and as I'm about to drink it I feel my phone vibrate.

When I have the phone in my hand, I see that it's Lulu. Alarmed, I get Luke's attention and hurry out the loud club to take the call in a quiet place. Unfortunately, I don't make it in time, and the line is dead when I finally answer. And after several call backs I give up, and eager to see Luke I rush back inside. But my giddiness disappears when I see another bimbo, this one more brazen than the last, flirting with him and I pause momentarily to see how he's going to handle it considering our very recent conversation. And when I see her blinding red manicured fingers go up to his face, brushing his wet hair from his forehead I get my answer. Not to my satisfaction. Livid, I storm to them to take care of things myself. So much for my high ideal about not arguing with another woman over a man.

"Oh hi babe," Luke says reaching for me clueless to my rage or playing ignorant. Either way it doesn't thrill me. Setting his water on the bar he makes to introduce me to the blonde bombshell. Blonde, clearly, he had a type. Based on what I have seen so far, I don't have to guess how Alison must look. "Morgan this is my girlfriend, Ana," he says, and I stick my chest out like a proud peacock despite the fury coursing through by body. Morgan for her part isn't too excited about meeting me either. Reluctantly, she extends her hand, but her fangs come out immediately.

"Girl-friend". She draws the word out like it's an anomaly "Tell you what Luke," she purrs reaching in a purse that's too small to hold anything useful and pulls out a card. "I have a new number. Call me when you're through with your girlfriend," she has the audacity to say. Eyeing me up and down she holds the card up to Luke, and politely I step in snatching it from her hand. And without saying a word I proceed to rip it to shreds in front of her letting the pieces rain down on her feet. Defiant to the end Miss Thang squares her shoulders and stomps off with a sway in her hip choreographed to show Luke what he's missing.

"Don't dare tell me, nothing to worry about," I snip as I walk away from him, but Luke's able to grab hold of my wrist before I get too far.

"Okay, I deserve that. Morgan stepped out of line," he says pulling me back to him.

"It's not about Morgan; it's about you," I yell poking him in the chest. "You're the one supposedly in the relationship." I make air quotes around the word relationship. "So it's your job to stop these girls when they come on to you," I say angrily pausing to collect myself, as not to jumble up my words. "One is bad, but two is a problem," l spit out rolling my eyes at him in exasperation.

"You're right I need to set boundaries..."

"You think," I say sardonically interrupting him.

"I'll ignore that snide comment. As I was about to say before I was so rudely interrupted. I need to set boundaries. But so do you with Copper, he calls you way too much," he says.

"Copper. How did this get to be about me? You're trying to deflect," I huff narrowing my eyes at him, and he smiles at me like he's trying to tame a snake before it strikes.

"We're here to have fun. Let's call a truce." And he puts his hands on mine and I swat it away.

"No. don't I want a truce," I shout

"Fuck, come on let's take this outside. It's too noisy in here," he says practically dragging me to the door. "Okay, here we are. Talk," he says when we're standing in the brisk air.

"Don't be condescending," I say pulling my arm out of his grasp. "I want to nip this in the butt. I will not be with someone who I can't trust," I whimper.

"Wow, that stings. Granted I could've handled things better, but I haven't given you any reason not to trust me. Did you notice that when Morgan tried to touch me I flinched to get away from her? But I apologize for not being more aggressive and wrestling her to the floor," he says sarcastically pausing waiting for me to respond, but I stay silent. However, I can't help but smirk at the absurdity of him tackling Morgan. Though I would've loved to have seen it. But he's right, I didn't pay attention to the reality, my version played better in my head. "I thought not. And if you'd let me handle things, I would've put her in her place. Furthermore, if there were something going on, I sure as hell wouldn't have introduced you as my girlfriend," he says calmly trying to bridle his frustration.

"Maybe I overreacted," I concede.

"You think?" His response is too quick, unable to resist the chance to toss my snarky comment back at me.

"Okay, don't get too cocky, I'm admitting some blame here, but you're not exactly off the hook."

"I know," he says pulling me to him. "I'm sorry for causing you any reason not to trust me. Please tell me you trust me. We have nothing if we don't have trust," he says sincerely.

"I trust you," I say putting my arms around his neck.

"Okay, let's go back inside," he says giving me a peck on my lips. Our hands entwined we start back to the club. "We still need to have a talk about Copper," he says tightening his hand around mine.

"That was fun. Thank you for convincing me to go out tonight."

"Even if we had a fight?" he asks.

"Yes, even with the fight and the bimbos I had fun," I smirk.

"In that case," he says giving me a kiss on the top of my head. "You're." And he plants a kiss on one shoulder. "Welcome," he moans planting a kiss on the other before turning me to face him where he nips at my lips before furiously kissing me as the water cascades over our bodies. Then he turns me again, so I'm back facing the tiled wall.

"Ah, I like it when you're rough," I grunt.

"Really, is this rough enough for you?" he asks huskily and I feel him cup my cheeks getting to his knees. My palms flat against the wall; I try to brace myself as Luke sensually slides the sponge up and down the crevice of my behind. And when he loses the sponge replacing it with his tongue it sends a shiver through me. And when he takes the tip and rims at the puckered hole I have to claw at the tiled wall; in order, to stay upright.

"What are you doing?" I pants as I try to look over my shoulder.

"Making sure you're clean," he whispers against my cheeks and after a few more strokes of his tongue he stands to his feet taking me over his shoulder. "You're clean enough," he says huskily walking us quickly to the bed. "I want to pick up where I left off earlier." And he tosses me on the bed.

Every inch of the body hurts when I try to move, and I open my eyes to Luke laughing at me.

"I take it you're not going for a run this morning?" he ask facetiously, and I want to knock the smugness off his face, but I don't have the strength.

"No," I snap and pull the covers over my head. "And I doubt I ever will again," I grumble, and I hear him laughing even harder.

"Okay," he chortles. "Maybe you'll feel better when I get back," he says, pulling the covers back giving me a gentle kiss on the forehead. "I love you." And he stands.

When he comes back, I'm in the same spot and worry written all over his face Luke rushes to my side. "Babe, you're warm," he says more alarmed when he feels my head.

"I know. I feel like crap. I think I'm coming down with the flu," I whine.

"You should've told me how badly you were feeling, I wouldn't have gone running. And there's no way you're going to class."

"I know I couldn't if I wanted too, and I wasn't feeling this bad initially," I murmur.

"Well, I'm here now. Let me make you some hot tea and get you something to take for your symptoms."

Soon as he leaves, I hear the steady beeping of my phone but I don't bother looking because I know it's either Kate or Copper. And after all the discussions about Copper, I'm in no hurry to have any communications with him.

"Here you go," he says putting the hot tea on the bedside table when he comes back into the room. "I don't have anything here for a cold, so I'm going to have to go out and pick you up some things," he says brushing my hair from my face nurturing me. "Do you want me to get a band for your hair or are you more comfortable with it loose?" he asks sweetly rubbing the top of my head comforting me.

"Loose is fine," I say in my small voice.

"Okay then, but before I go let me help you get into one of your comfy PJs."

"What I thought you liked me scantily dressed for bed." I try for some humor, but I don't have the energy to put much punch behind the words.

"I do when I can have my way with you, but you're sick, and I know you feel most comfortable in your PJs."

Luke POV

"Luke. What's going on?"

"Not much. Listen, I don't have a lot of time, but I need your help. Gail's actually."

"Yeah, what can Gail help you with that I can't?" he asks and I can hear the skepticism in his voice. But more like jealousy.

"Calm down, I was hoping to get her chicken noodle soup recipe," I say, and he lets out a hardy laugh.

"Well I'll be damned, Luke Sawyer has a girl," he says and he can't stop chuckling.

"You can keep the sarcasm to yourself. By the way, how did you come to that conclusion from a recipe request?"

"Luke you can't boil water and would starve before cooking, so a girl is not to hard a leap to explain your newfound domestic bliss."

"You're right, it's a girl." I decide to give up because I can't dispute his claim.

"Well fuck, I never thought I would see the day. The two biggest bachelors are falling at the same time," he laughs.

"What the hell are you talking about old man?" I tease. Taylor is only in his mid-thirties, but I like to get his goat.

"I can still kick your ass," he fires back. "But I'm talking about you and the boss."

"No fucking way. Christian Grey has it for someone. So one of those Subs finally got to the bastard. Now that's some messed up shit."

"No, that's the irony. It's not one of them. A little spitfire has him chasing his tail."

"I'm sure he's fun to be around. I'm glad I'm not there to experience Christian Grey at war with himself."

"Well that's not the biggest problem believe it or not. That fucking Leila Williams broke into Escala."

"How the hell did she do that?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out, as well as track her down. But it's as if she has dropped off the face of the earth."

"Boy, I hope you guys get all of this shit worked out before I get back."

"The Leila Williams situation will be solved soon. But the other shit, will take more of a miracle. The boss fucked that up big time. But you know him, he doesn't stay down. He's moved on to a sub, so he's drowning his woes in punishing her ass. A couple of weeks ago I thought there was some hope, but that ship has sailed. I feel like she was a mirage."

"If it weren't fucking Christian Grey, with his good looks and more money than God, I would feel sorry for the guy," I snicker.

"Yeah I hear you. So what's your girl's name?"

"You know what, I'm going to keep that information private for the time being. Because; as soon as, it's out you guys will be digging into her background, and I don't want to scare her away."

"Well if you expect to keep her around, you know she'll have to go through a thorough background check. The boss will insist on it."

"The boss would probably insist on fucking her too since she's just his type, and that's not happening either," I snarl.

"Okey-dokey then, good luck with that with that attitude. And I don't have to have the fight right now. I'll just wait to see how long she lasts and based on your prior history, that should be about the time this call ends," he snickers.

"Fuck you, Jason."

"Yep, you're definitely in love. You're too easy to rile. I'll get Gail for you."

"Oh that smells so good," I say as I struggle to sit upright. "I don't have an appetite and still it smells mouthwatering."

"That's good to hear. It's my famous homemade soup, or a close friend's famous homemade chicken noodle soup I should say."

"I still can't believe you did all this shopping while you were out. And cooking."

"Shopping isn't exactly my thing, but can soup would never do for my girl. Cooking isn't either but for you I'll do anything." he says setting the tray down on the bedside table. "In addition to soup, I have crackers and fresh squeezed orange juice."

"You're spoiling me."

"You call it spoiling; I call it loving you. Spoiling is what a man does for the woman he loves. It may have been a long time, but I haven't forgotten," he says bringing a spoon full of the delectable smelling soup to my mouth. I open wide and swallow the perfect temperature broth.

"You don't have to feed me you know. I'm a little weak, but I can still feed myself," I say trying hard to eat another spoon full of the delicious concoction.

"I know, but I want to."

"Okay," I say pushing the spoon away. "Luke, I can't eat another bite."

"Bite. I would hardly call sipping on broth a bite. I've already made one concession, pushing the noodles aside. So the least you could do is have a few more spoons full of the broth," he says convincingly

"Boy, you've gotten this guilt thing down," I whine. "So go ahead." And like a petulant child I open my mouth.

"Thank you," he says a satisfied grin on his face.

"Okay, that's it," I say blocking my mouth with both hands as I push the spoon away when he brings it up to my mouth. "I can't take another bite. Sip. Or whatever you want to call it. I'm done," I say putting my foot down.

"Chill," he chuckles. "You don't have to eat anymore," he says putting the spoon back in the bowl and packing things up. And I think he's going to the kitchen, but he starts stripping.

"What are you doing?" I ask speculatively.

"I'm going to get in bed with you," he says matter of factly.

"I thought you had a class."

"I do, but I'm not going to leave you alone."

"Luke you don't have to change your schedule. You have me set up nicely so I'd be fine until you got back."

"You probably would be, but I wouldn't. I'd be too worried" he says climbing in bed behind me. Shifting I get my body in position to rest my head against his chest. "You smell good," he says taking a whiff of my hair.

"You always know what I need. Being here with you like this is better than any medication," I murmur, as I nuzzle into him.

"I love you," I whisper against her soft hair. "Go to sleep," I say as I close my eyes. Not to sleep, to think. I would give my last breath to hear her say I love you back. I'll never understand how he could've been so foolish as to let her go after hearing those three little words from her. How could he not cherish her and love her back?

When I wake up its dark outside, and I'm alone so gingerly I get out of bed to find him. Testing the waters, I stand on my unstable legs and begin the search. Aside from being a little lethargic I'm feeling much better and the more I walk, the stronger my legs become. When I turn the corner, he's on the sofa reading a book that he puts away; as soon as, he sees me lazily making my way further into the room.

"Well you look better," he says the closer I get to him.

"I feel better. I think it was the homemade soup a handsome chef made for me."

"I think you're right," he smirks pulling me down to his lap and I automatically let my head fall on his chest. And cradling me in his in his arms he falls back on the sofa.

"This I could definitely get used to," he says breathing a sigh of contentment

"Well don't, I'm going back to classes tomorrow," I murmur against his chest.

"Oh yeah, you think you're ready? You've only been out one day," he says leaning down to get a better look at me.

"Well I feel much better and I should be a 100% in the morning."

"Okay, if you say so," he acquiesces. "By the way you're phone has been going crazy." Sitting up I look at him with confusion all over my face.

"How do you know?"

"I have it here," he says pulling the phone from between the sofa. "I brought it with me. I didn't want it to wake you up."

"Did you look at?" I ask

"No, it was locked," he admits.

"So you tried?" I ask.

"No. But I'll admit to being curious. But I knew it was locked."

"Thank you for being honest and so thoughtful," I say reaching up to bring my arms around his neck. And he puts his arm around me pulling me tighter to him like I'm the air he needs for life.

I give him a few minutes, and I push out of the embrace to see what comfort I could offer him. He's been the caregiver, so it's my turn to return the favor. "Luke are you okay? I mean you were sitting in the dark when I came and now." I pause to think of the right word. "You seem forlorn."

"Maybe," he says softly moving some of the wavy strands from my face. "I was just reflecting on how much my life has changed in such a short time. Someone used the term Spitfire today, and I think it's a perfect description of you. You're like a ball of energy that has overtaken me. I love you," he says cupping my face, and I think he's going to kiss me, but he puts his hands down and looks away.

"Why did you leave me alone in the bed?" I ask.

"You said you didn't want me watching you sleep," I say very benignly. I want to expand upon the statement and say so much more. But how could I without scaring her. Fuck it scares me that, I could I fall so fast and so completely. I want to say making love to you wouldn't be enough, I want to consume you, and I want to wear you like a second skin. I'm sure it would make her question where my love begins, and my obsession ends. Alison is my only comparison, and as much as I loved her I don't recall this insatiable need for her. I never needed her like an addict needed his next fix, and I sure as hell didn't feel the need to possess her. No, what I felt for her was easily defined, it was love plain and simple no variations. With Ana, it's beautifully raw with its intensity and different shadings. Like her, there are many facets to who she is. She's beautiful, not the kind that's in your face, its beauty in its simplicity, raw, untarnished, and innate. She's strong, and she's not afraid to tell you, yet she doesn't embrace and harness her true strength. She's a broken soul that rebukes being fixed but tries to fix everything around her. She'll taunt her maturity in your face, but in her soulful blue eyes you can see a glimpse of the teenager. She's an open book, but she keeps so much hidden, and I love all these facets. They make her the precious gem she is.

"Luke." I hear, and I jerk my head staring at her in confusion

"What? I'm sorry can you repeat the question?"

"Where did you go? I'd been calling to you," she says

"To a place I dream of," I say, and I give her peck on her forehead. What were you saying?"

"That I was going to get something to eat."

"Nope you sit here and I'll get it for you."

It's a beautiful day in the Park, but I think the coldness is keeping the crowd away. It's chillier than I prefer, but Luke insisted that we come today. And he promises I will warm up once we start playing Frisbee. Frisbee; a game I've never played but was desperate to play. Another one of the simple things in life I missed out on, and Luke has committed himself to giving me some of them back.

"Time's a wasting," he teases. "Com'on start running and I'll throw it to you. Then you throw it back to me. The running is payback for wimping out and cutting our run short this morning," he says, and I stick my tongue out at him. "Real mature," he laughs.

Slowly I start jogging as Luke prepares to launch the orange disc my way. Luckily I've fully recovered. From everything, my cold and my period otherwise I wouldn't be able to do this. Okay so I could've on my menstrual cycle, but who would want to? I'd never been so jubilant at the sight of blood in my life. Relieved that I didn't have to worry about Christian and giving into his archaic demands. Most importantly, I'm freer to be more accepting of Luke.

"I got it," I scream leaping up snatching the flying disc out of the air. And I hold it up as I start pumping my arms in the air like I just won an Olympic medal.

Animated, I toss the orange plastic disc back to him, and we repeat this for a good 15 minutes until a man walks up to Luke with a handsomely groomed dog. The Frisbee in my hand, I walk up briskly to two men hoping to pet the dog more than meet the stranger.

"Babe," Luke calls sticking his hand out for mine. "Meet Benji," he says taking my hand and I immediately go to the ground scratching Benji on his head cooing to him as if he were a human child. From my knees, I see the young man who brought Benji leaving and perplexed I look up at Luke.

"Where's he going? He's left his dog."

"No, he didn't. He's your dog. For a little while anyway," he says getting to the ground with Benji and me.

"I don't understand."

"He's a rescue dog and we're going to foster him until they find him a permanent home. You said you never had a dog so I thought you should have one. But since you only have a few more weeks here, doggy foster-care seemed to be the best option," he says, and I almost knock him backward when I fling myself at him.

"You have to stop being so perfect," I whimper

"And you have to stop crying," he chuckles pulling me tighter to him.

Soon as I get myself together we start playing Frisbee with Benji and an already perfect day was made that much more perfect with the addition of Benji. Benji at my feet, I watch as Luke walks to us.

"Come on," he says putting an arm around me. "Let's go back to that hot dog stand we saw earlier.

His hand wedged in the back pocket of my jeans and my arm wrapped around his waist while the other hand holds on to Benji's leash we walk across the park to the street vendor. The three of us together feels so normal, and I'm the happiest I've been in a very long time. And dear I say content.

Finding a space, Luke spreads the blanket we brought with us, and we stake our spot as we release Benji to roam, but we make sure he doesn't stray too far from us.

"It terrifies me; that this feels so normal. What's going to happened when we go back to the real world?"

"This is the real world," he says removing the wrapper from his hot dog and taking a huge bite.

"No, this is a bubble we've created within the real world. I mean soon we'll go back to our lives our friends. Secrets we've been keeping, your job, my past. What happens when they all converge?" I ask holding the mix fruit bowl in my hand as I question if I should eat it. Hothouse fruit is one thing, but old hothouse fruit is something entirely different.

"We'll deal with it. We just have to trust in what we've built here," he says taking another bite of his hotdog.

"That's my point. Don't you think by failing to reveal our true selves to each other, that what we've built is nothing but smoke and mirrors? A house of cards?" I sigh. "Insert any cliché. But the reality is, we're building our future on lies." I pause and feel tears beckoning. My tears are more about my guilt over my lies.

"Look at me," he says and I feel him hustling to get closer. When he's closed the distance, he removes the unopened container from my hand setting it on the crimson blanket, and he rests my hand on his chest. "Feel that?"

"Yes," I say softly shaking my head.

"That's not a lie. My heartbeat isn't a lie. It's proof of life and its proof that I love you. And that's the only truth that matters. The secrets we're keeping are the necessary evils we have to endure for right now. I feel I know everything I need to know about you, particularly about your heart. We've both been very forthcoming about our feelings. For better or worse, so I'd say we're in a good place. And hearing you mention us in the same sentence as the future, I'd say we're in a very good place," he says, and he lifts a hand to the side of my face. Rubbing the pad of this thumb wiping away some of the moisture, and I lean into his touch as Benji comes charging knocking us to the blanket.

My legs wrapped around Luke's waist like a vice grip, and his arm snaked around my waist holding me in place we go at like two horny rabbits. Frantically we claw at each other's mouth as Luke fumbles with his apartment lock in his effort to quickly get us inside and naked. I can't help but giggle when he starts swearing at the lock, and Benji starts barking. Poor dog, I can only imagine what we must look like to him.

Finally, Luke gets the door open, and as soon as soon as we cross the threshold he starts groping at my shirt almost ripping it from my body.

"I want you naked in bed by the time I get there," he says breathing hard and releasing me so I can climb down his body to my feet. "I'll get Benji set up, so I'll be right there," he says giving me a wallop on my rear making me yelp.

By the time, Luke makes it to the bedroom, I've had time to freshen up so when he walks in I'm fresh, wet and waiting for him on top of the bed.

"I like the way you follow orders." A crooked smile crosses his face as he stalks to me losing an article of clothing with every step. "So you want to play rough, huh?" he pants, climbing on the bed. "Open your legs," he says and kneeling, he sticks three fingers in me.

"Oh," I groan my hip leaving the bed and grinning he pulls his fingers out.

"Not this time," he says huskily as he starts licking each finger one at a time. "I have other plans for that sensual mouth," he grins. "So tell me, do you want it rough?" he asks plunging his fingers into me again.

"Aah," I groan and I don't know what it is I'm agreeing to do. But it doesn't matter I will do anything he wants.

"Turn over and let me spank that ass," he breathes hard and he doesn't give me a chance to comply before he's flipping me over.

On my stomach, I feel the bed dip before his hand makes contacts with my butt. The smack resonates around the room, making it sound far worse than it feels. The whole thing is playing with my head; the sensation is erotic and debasing at the same time. The pain is minimal and fleeting, but the arousal long lasting.

"What a perfect ass," he says breathing loud as he rubs my cheeks causing me to squirm. "I can't wait to fuck it," he warns sticking a pinky in the puckered hole causing me to bow off the bed and I hear him chuckle. "But not today. I've got other plans." And he flips me back over to my front. "I want you to see your eyes," he says taking my chin between his fingers. "I want to get serious for a minute. I have to make sure you're comfortable with what we're about to do. "

"Luke you don't have to check with me every time we're intimate. I appreciate it, but it's not necessary. You know my limits I trust you not to take me beyond what I can handle," I say

"You don't know how much I love you." And he leans over to kiss me roughly. As he plunders my mouth, he runs his hand between my legs. "You're so fucking wet; it's coating you're thighs," he says as he stops sucking my bottom lip to crawl between my legs where he licks my juices from my inner thighs.

Crawling back up my body, he straddles me and searching my eyes for final approval he hustles further up, so his cock is level with my mouth. Fisting his erection he grazes the tip over my lips teasing me, and my tongue juts out greedily seeking the moisture at the tip of his cock. Groaning he holds his erection steady letting me lick the tip, and suck at it until I've milked it dry. Getting a taste makes me want more and I sit up on my elbow making my desire known. When our eyes meet his eyes are dark and wanton and I'm sure mine are blazing with need and pleading. Always anxious to fill my needs still fisting his cock at the base Luke shoves it in my mouth and flexing his hips he pushes in and out. He feels better than I imagined; he's hard and soft at the same time. Sucking hard I take him all the way to the back of my throat.

"Fuck, baby," he hisses. "I don't think I can hold out much longer," he groans and his head falls back.

Encouraged by what I'm doing to him, I suck and go down on him harder and faster. The more he screams his pleasure and calls my name the harder I go and when I put some teeth into it, it sends him over the edge. Feeling him constrict, I wait for the warm liquid to fill my mouth.

"Swallow," he groans. "I want to see you swallow," I tell her, and I keep my eyes locked on that spot at the base of her neck. And I watch with pride as my semen makes it way down her beautiful throat. If this is all I will ever have of her, I don't want to miss a thing.

I didn't need to be told to swallow; it was always my plan. If I can't say I love you, this I could give him. Falling back I lick my lips and Luke falls on me devouring my mouth.

"That's was perfect?" he pants and he leans in kissing me. "Are you okay?" he asks against my mouth.

"If I said I wanted to do that again would that answer your question?" I smile up at him.

"Yes, it would." His lips touch mine and quickly he pulls back. "And I promise we will. I still need to get you off," he says. Staying silent I nod my head in the affirmative. "Stay here let me go check on Benji first, "he says giving me a peck on the cheek.

Smiling I watch him walk away, his tight ass turning me on with every step he takes. I know I keep using the word normal, but it best describes how I feel around Luke. In all its positive connotation, not in the overused way people use the word to describe they're underperforming lives. To me, it's what Kate meant about easy, being with Luke is easy, and I like easy. The question becomes can I love easy?

"Benji is doing great, and he told me I should go back and take care of you," he smiles walking into the room unraveling a towel from around his waist. He must have picked it up from his guest bathroom.

"Oh I see. So tell me did he bark it or was it sign -language" I gesture with my hands.

"No, it was clearly English. But only I can understand. It's a skill I forgot to mention, I'm like Dr. Doolittle I can talk to the animals," he say climbing on the bed his erection on prominent display.

"Really, I see. I'd say you have another skill; quick recovery," I say arching my brows with my eyes locked on his throbbing fully erect cock.

"You damn right," he says mischievous brimming off of him. Hovering, he leans down and starts tickling me making me laugh hysterically flailing my arms trying to fight him off. When he stops, his expression has changed from silly to seductive.

"Let's switch places," he huffs. "I want you on top of me, but I want you to put your pussy in my face." I hesitate because I'm not exactly sure what's he asking, and I'm not that keen that I'll be able to get into position without looking very unsexy.

Fortunately, I managed to get on top of him without too much damage to him or me, and now his cock is hitting me in the face. At this angle, no further instructions are needed. I'm very clear about my role, and I'm also happy for my few yoga classes. Flexibility is required. Kate has boasted of the pros of this position, but I never thought in a million years that I would experience being in the 69 position. The missionary one was the most I could wish for, but life has taught me one thing, prepare for the unexpected. My mouth on his erection, I'm preparing to go down on him when Luke starts sticking his tongue in and out of me, quickly demonstrating for me why this is Kate's position of choice.

"Aah," I mumble trying to moan my pleasure with his cock gloriously filling my mouth.

CPOV

In the dark, except for the small lamp on his desk, because he felt the moment dictated a dimly lit room, and it matched his mood. He also felt it called for Edith Piaf which had been on constant repeat on his playlist since that night. Under the light he studied the nondescript envelope, her handwriting was formal with youthful flourishes. He was no handwriting expert, but he knew what her penmanship said about her. And he smiled, that in this day of Emoji's and Times New Roman, her address was handwritten. She'd also used her full name as if she needed Rose to distinguish her from the myriad of Anastasia Steeles in his life. However, upon further thought, he discerned that it was a veiled jab at him, a clear sign she was no longer invested.

It wasn't essential for him to see the inside; he had a vague idea of the content. But now he was intrigued and after putting it off all day under the guise of no time, he took the sharp blade to the envelope slicing through it, pulling the scab off the old wound.

Mr. Grey,

. In his anger, it's what he made sure she'd called him from now, even after she had laid with him. In black and white in her handwriting the name was ominous. Who needed a knife when the same pain could be exacted with a pen? The paper in his hand, he swivels so he's facing the floor to ceiling window staring at the Seattle skyline. It was his kingdom, and he was the master of the universe. Turning back slowly to the large desk with small lamp, he starts from the beginning.

Mr. Grey,

I've played out in my head over and over what I would say to you if given the chance. Then someone savvier in these matters than I am, helped me to see that there's no such thing as closure. So with closure out the window, as an English Major, it embarrasses me to say that I was at a loss of what to write. The words were either too weak, not strong enough or plain old inappropriate. So I'm going with the old motto keep it simple stupid.

I lied to you; you annihilated me, I think that makes us even. Don't you? Which makes your check unnecessary, so I've included it with this letter. You want me out of our life, and I want to forget you. We've said all we need to say to each other, and I've given you all my mementos. Ironically making your 5 million dollars, the only thing keeping us connected since I never plan to spend a dime. The irony is you gave me the money to stay away, but in the end it won't cost you a penny. As it turns out my love don't cost a thing, it never did. You wanted the power so now it's all in your hands, cash the check and we can finally be completely free of each other.

Anastasia Rose Steele

Holding the check with the exorbitant figure in his hand, reflecting he reminds himself why he had done it. She had lied to him after all. And at the time he had felt vindicated, but he felt no such vindication now. Regardless the length he had gone to wrench control from her she always found a way to tip it back in her favor. Preferring the natural light of the moon, he turns off the only light in the expansive office, as he analyzes the power struggle in his head. Calmly too calm for the vexation brewing internally. Clenching his hand he fists, the words crunching them until the paper is no more than a crumpled ball in his hand. Isolated by demons that won't let him rest, he hurls the ball across the room where he watches it land unceremoniously on the floor without making a sound. All the while Edith Piaf croons soulfully about no regret, "Non je ne regretted rien", if only it were true.

Well now

If little by little you stop loving me

I shall stop loving you

Little by little

If suddenly you forget me

Do not look for me

For I shall already have forgotten you

Pablo Neruda


	14. Chapter 14: Thinking out loud

Chapter 14: Thinking Out Loud

**FSOG belongs to EL James**

**A/N: **Thank you for reading, following, and reviewing... please enjoy

Luke rests a hand at my lower back startling me. "Are you okay?" he asks.

Lifting my eyes from the bank statement, I let his words permeate my ears. Am I okay, I repeat the rudimentary question, which should be rather simple for me to answer? So why am I grappling with the response? Giving the statement another quick glance, I let the question cycle through my head one more time? Are you okay? Unable to form a response, I mentally run down the list of reasons I should be okay.

My bank account is minus the repugnant 5 million dollars that have made me physically ill from the moment it was deposited; forget about spending it. This alone should have me screaming an emphatic yes at the top of my lungs.

The transaction was seamless, Christian didn't go on the attack when he received the check and my note, contrary to what I'd predicted. So again I have to question, the belly flops at the pit of my stomach, instead of overwhelming jubilation?

Finally, for his part Christian did as I requested; swiftly cashing the check severing all ties.

Bingo, there it is…swiftly. In that one word, I have the honest but pathetic explanation for my inner turmoil. He'd moved too swiftly, wasting no time ridding himself of me. I recognize I'm irrational, seeing that he only did what I requested of him.

Why stop now, I've never been rational when it came to Christian Grey. If I had, I never would have slept with him in the first place. I would never have lied about my age and I sure as heck wouldn't have told him I loved you.

Alas; that was the past I can't change it, but I should've been better prepared for the fall out from my actions.

"Pff," I sigh and inadvertently it's out loud as I come to terms with the one constant in my very short and turbulent relationship with Christian… I'm shattered. But I refuse to succumb to the emotions this time around, losing any more of myself in his name. I'm going to flip the script; I will be strong and unyielding.

"You know what…" I pause and opt for candor for a change. Smiling, I look up at Luke. "I'm not okay, but I'm getting there," I say. Searching, behind me I find his hand and take it in mine needing to feel him. "Come on, I'm ready for some Starbucks."

Luke pushes the glass door open with his free hand. "After you," he says. By some miracle, we manage to squeeze through the narrow opening, without having to let go of our hands.

Luke sensed that it would take more than a hot cup of tea to lift my spirits and he rightly concluded that Benji was the remedy. So he ditched Starbucks to bring me back to his apartment to spend a few minutes with the lovable pooch.

As soon as, I walk through the door Benji rushes to me nearly knocking me over. "Hey boy, happy to see me huh?" I coo as I go to my knees to give him a healthy scratch on the head. "Well, I'm happy to see you too," I say feverishly scratching him all over as he licks my face. Giggling, I lean into the sloppy wet kisses, and I can almost feel the anguish dissipating with every lap of his wet, scratchy tongue against my face.

Luke is unable to function without his morning Starbucks, so he circled back, which has allowed me to have this alone time with Benji. Playing with Benji on the floor, I hear Luke's key in the door, so I move us a little, so we're not blocking his path. Hurrying, through the door carelessly holding the cardboard carrier with our hot drinks, Luke mockingly chastises Benji and me. "What's going in here? I can hear you two in the hallway," he says.

"I seriously doubt that," I say getting up from the floor to leave the four-legged boy to give the melodramatic two legged variety a kiss on the cheek. Thinking about it, I probably shouldn't have rewarded the bad behavior, it will only encourage him. As I start to walk to the counter, I feel Benji weaving in and out my legs reminding me that I should give Luke the heads up about my impromptu facial. "You might want to wait to kiss me. Benji has spent the last 10 minutes licking every inch of my face."

"Lucky Benji," he says giving me a wink.

"You are incorrigible," I say. Then I start preparing my tea. I prefer my tea week, so I dip the bag in the hot water and jerk it back out just as quickly. "You'll get your chance when I wash my face."

Coming up behind me, he wraps his arms around my waist nuzzling my neck, and my tickle reflex kicks in causing my head to tilt automatically to one side to meet my shrugging shoulder. "Maybe, I don't want to wait," he says and his breath hits a sensitive spot on my neck that tickles me even more.

Giggling, I squirm to get away from him, but he has me locked against the edge of the counter with his body, so all I can do is swat his arms. "Stop," I say

Taking pleasure in my discomfort, he continues to tickle my neck as he seeks space to kiss it. However, fortuitously it gives me the small break I need to step out of his prison. Dragging my tea with me, I glance over giving him a parting smirk. "Yeah right," I say.

"Okay, maybe the kid comment was a poor choice of word. I can concede that, but would it disgust you if I said I don't care?" he asks.

"Ewe. Yes." I say emphatically.

Chuckling, he takes a sip of his Latte. "Tell me how you really feel," he says. "Since I have you thoroughly disgusted, it would probably be a good time to ask what I've been dying to ask since the bank." Unexpectedly, he brings his wrist forward to look at his watch, and I wait to see the purpose for the dramatic use of prop. He's very melodramatic this morning, and I can't help but roll my eyes. "It's been 48 hours, 12 minutes, 45 seconds since we've had a fight, so the streak is at risk here. But here goes. Do you need money?"

I hear the uncertainty in his voice, so I rest my hand on his to relieve his tension. "No, I don't need money. I overreacted, a check cleared sooner than I'd expected is all. Fortunately, it didn't affect my account adversely, so I'm good. But thank you," I say. When I turn to face him, he's looking at that darn watch again. Who even has a watch in the age of cell phones and personal devices? I shake my head. "What now?" I shrug. "I behaved. I didn't even get mad."

"I know." Smirking, he wiggles his brows, and that can mean only one thing. "That's why I was checking my watch; your head didn't explode. So I wanted to see if we had time for my licks," he says. His eye fill with lust he reaches for me, but I take another step back.

"Oh no," I say and I pick up my tea. You didn't have to look at your watch; you could've asked me. And based on those eyes, I'm reneging. Unlike Benji, you're looking for more than licks. ," I say. And gulping down the now room temperature tea, I slam the empty paper cup to the counter for emphasis before making a mad dash out of the kitchen.

Following in my tracks, he screams after me but I continue down the hallway. "What do you mean? Where are you going? Come on. You gotta give me something; I'm not going to see you tonight."

I rotate my head to look over my shoulder. "You'll live," I say. I keep my voice monotone, I didn't have to be loud for him to get the gist, and I can't help but chuckle when he hits the floor fake passing out. He's in rare form this morning with the dramatics.

Amanda runs her hand over her blunt bob, affix her black rimmed glasses and settles in her chair as she prepares to go over out assignments. "Ana, let's start with you. You have CQ," she says, and I nod my head in the affirmative. Then she takes another glance at her paper, before continuing around the table. "Jazzy, you have Site Core, Ian, you have Oracle and I've been given Microsoft," she says setting the paper on the table and slamming it with her hand. "Now that we have that sorted we can get started."

"I don't know why the fuck we have to compare project management software. Can we just move on to coding already?" Ian says, flicking his pen with his fingers.

Amanda pinches the bridge of her nose before giving him a shooting glare. "Really, Ian. You're in an accelerated program at Harvard, so can you try not to act like a brat for one day?" And she pauses waiting, for a response, but we all stay silent even Ian. "You know full well this program is designed to give us a taste of everything so suck it up. Your damn engineering class is coming up in a few days."

Leaning over so only I can hear, Jasmine mumbles under her breath it's going to be a long night.

Then Amanda leans over to whisper something disparaging about Ian in the other ear.

It's beyond me how they can think these sidebars are a good idea considering the size of our group and the proximity we are to each other at the round table. But searching everyone's face, apparently I'm the only one bothered so I keep my concerns to myself.

"Why don't we table the boring topic for a minute to discuss Ana and Mr. Good Body," Jasmine says catching me off guard. Leave it to Jasmine to use humor to diffuse a situation too bad this time it's at my expense.

"I say not," Ian says without hesitating.

Playfully, Jasmine swats him on the shoulder. "Oh, shut up Ian you're just jealous," she says and it's another surprise. I didn't see that one coming. Ian jealous of me? Sure he's cute in that Iowa farm boy kind of way, but I've never been attracted to him. I've not spent enough time with him to be attracted to him. In her attempt to lighten the mood, Jasmine has made things more awkward, so it's time for me to step in and nip this in the butt.

"I agree with Ian. Let's save this for later tonight when we're back in the room," I say.

"Good idea Ana," Amanda says giving Jasmine a death glare. It's a wonder her fiery red hair didn't turn to actual flames.

"What?" Leisurely leaning back in her chair Jasmine lets the question hang in the air. "I was just going to say you haven't seen fine until you've seen Luke with his shirt off. Sweat glistening over every inch of his hard chest and ripped abs. He's a work of art," she says, and I gasp. I can't believe how she just describe Luke, and if I didn't know better, I would swear she came too. "Now who's curious?" she asks. The sassy question is aimed at Amanda, but my hand shoots up.

"Me," I say.

And they all shoot questioning glances my way. Jazz being the boldest of the bunch isn't shy and ask what Amanda and Ian can't. "Why are you curious? You see the damn man every night."

"Simple, I want to know where you saw him with his shirt off."

"In the gym the other day playing basketball. Where did you think?" Jazz asks looking at me like duh and I slink back in my chair.

"Oh."

Exasperated by my repeated questions about Jasmine's disclosure, Luke begrudgingly gives me his side. "Ana, girls come in and out of the gym all day long. We're a bunch of dudes playing pick-up, we don't have groupies. That's saved for the Basketball team."

I'm not jealous, more like curious. If I'm honest, I'm deriving pleasure from watching his discomfort, and it's too much fun to let it so quickly drop.

The remote in my hand, I lay back on the armrest as I leisurely bring my feet up to rest them on Luke's lap, but accidentally I graze Benji's ear in the process. He starts to whimper, so I reach down scratch the crown of his head to quiet him.

"Well, I'm here to tell you there was an audience and they were paying attention. Very close attention. Jazz pretty much counted the ridges on your six pack." I say. And sitting forward I give him a love pat before falling back to my post. Even through the fabric of his shirt I can feel the ridges Jazz so sensually described. I must have seen his abs over a hundred times in the past weeks still touching them never gets old.

"You know if you were going to spend the night talking about my body, you could've stayed here and had your way with the real thing," he says. His eyes are brimming with something naughty, but I ignore his mating call and pick up the remote.

I've gotten all the mileage I can out of that little ditty, so it's time to move on to the main event…TV night. Humming from the foot rub Luke is giving me, I give each channel about one-second to pull me in before moving on. I'm relaxing and after an inauspicious start to the week my mood has made a complete turnaround. I've gotten to okay more quickly than I'd expected. Actually, I'm better than okay, dear I say happy. And; as soon as, the word had left my mouth, I'd known it was a mistake...I don't do happy. Or should I say, happy doesn't do me. Pleased, content, lighthearted, but never happy and if ever I am its always fleeting.

The universe must have my inner thoughts wiretapped because the fear I'd just voiced in my head no more than a second ago comes to fruition. The channel changes and gray eyes are staring back at me from the small screen. Bolting upright, my legs follow suit lifting from where they are so comfortably perched on Luke's lap. Stupefied, I throw them over the edge of the sofa barely missing Benji. Blinking rapidly, I try to focus my eyes on the still of Christian, at the same time keeping my ears open to hear what the studio host has to say. Then my nerves start firing on cylinders when they cut away to a live shot of Christian on the red carpet with a woman.

Happiness goes out the window followed by my good mood, as I watch Christian with the leggy brunette. He has on a black suit, maybe a tux, it doesn't he's gorgeous.

And I try to hold back when Luke launches into a rant about Christian." I don't get it. Yeah, the guy is handsome and rich as hell, but take all that away he's just like the rest-." But I can't suppress it any longer and before I can stop myself, my hand shoots out cutting him off.

"Psst," I say shushing him too. From his sour expression, he's crossed, but I'll deal with him later, I have other priorities.

Christian has his arm draped around the young woman's waist, but it's more like her hip, based on where his hand is resting. It's a sign that they are more than casual acquaintances. His face is buried in her hair, and I can't tell if it's to kiss her ear or whisper in it. Either way I bristle at the sight. They continue down the red carpet; his hand glued to her hip bone, her arm snaking around his waist as they stare at each other adoringly. The correspondent finally identifies the young woman as a Victoria Secret Model, as she gushes about her dress. I didn't bother listening for her name, it no longer held any significance after hearing her occupation and current employer. She was everything I was not. Tall, striking, graceful, the epitome of female beauty. She was his equal, forcing me to admit that they made a handsome couple.

Tossing the word couple around in my head, in no way prepared me for hearing them identified as such. I have to choke back the bile when I hear the words relationship, and a hot new couple being bandied about in reference to the debonair young man and winsome young woman ridiculing me from the screen. I have no recollection of the words immediately preceding relationship or proceeding couple, it all becomes word salad to me. No connecting, verb, preposition, or dangling participle to create a complete, coherent sentence. I didn't need them anyway, I heard the most important words.

Digesting the words, I finally reach some clarity. Christian was eager to sever all ties because he had already moved on to someone else. A vastly improved version. The joke was on me. But if he could move on so could I. Releasing some of my hostility, I manhandle the remote smashing the red button hard before tossing it on the sofa, then I throw myself at Luke.

Straddling him, I peel off my shirt letting it fall seductively from my hand. Dumbfounded and aroused, he stares up at me and leaning down I cup his face with my hands. First, I unmercifully tease at his bottom lip with my teeth, before roughly shove my tongue in his mouth. Pouring all my aggression into this one kiss, I can hear his harsh breathing, as I capture his breath with every stroke of my tongue and each thrust of it to the back of his throat. With his palms flat against the nakedness of the skin on my back, he attempts to push me flush to his body as he revels in the harsh treatment I'm giving his mouth.

Pulling back, with my hands still cupping his face, I close my eyes and rest my forehead against his. My breathing picks up in preparation for the words to leave my mouth. "Make love to me," I whisper.

Luke keeps a hand at the small of my back, instantaneously getting himself into position to push off the sofa with the other hand. As soon as, he's standing he cups my behind, as he deftly steps over a sleeping Benji. Then he untangles my arms from around his neck and forces my locked legs from his waist switching my position to bridal style. Cradling me in his arms, he takes long strides to his bedroom.

Kicking the door back with his bare feet, he ignores the light, music, everything practically hurling me to the bed. I'm forced to grasp a handful of the blanket in an attempt to anchor myself to the mattress to wait for the bouncing to come to a stop. Pulling his t-shirt over his head he discards it to the floor and just as the bouncing ceases he hovers over me. His gaze is dark and brooding when he stares down at me. "Correction. I think you mean fuck. You want me to fuck you," he grunts. And then he lowers his mouth to mine kissing me with the same fervor I kissed him. Giving my bottom lip a final hard nip, he stands back up.

I swallow hard, struggling with the chill in his words. It's so unlike Luke to be so callous to me, but I'm determined to not let it ruin the moment for me. I have to stay focused on the goal. As abhorrent it was, I'd known the money wasn't the tie that binds us, I just didn't want to admit it. This. The fact that he owns me. That he's the only man to have truly me. But by the end of the night this will all have changed.

Biting the insides of my cheeks and fisting the blanket, I watch as Luke quickly dispenses of his pants and reaches for a foil packet. My eyes stay glued to him, but my thoughts wander elsewhere. To Christian, and I become even more resolute. After tonight, I will no longer be his figuratively or literally.

Luke tears into the foil packet as he makes eye contact with me. In his eyes, I search for some sign that he's in there, but they are cold and distant. And right then I want to back out, I'm no longer steadfast in my conviction. Then I hear Luke. "Take off your pants," he says.

My fingers tremble as they find their way inside the waistband of the sweats and my eyes stay locked on his seeking his encouragement. Slowly, I start to bring the elastic waistband down lifting my hip fractionally, to facilitate the removal. When the sweats reach my feet, Luke takes over bringing them the rest of the way tossing them to the floor. Then grabbing me by the ankles he jerks me down and forcibly spreads my legs apart before crawling between them.

Feeling trapped, my adrenaline surges and I sit upright pushing back on his hard muscular chest. "I'm sorry I can't do this," I say as I scramble to get off the bed. The water work has already begun, and I can feel the hot tears streaming down my face. I try to catch my breath as I fight to get off the bed.

As I flail, Luke manages to hook an arm around my waist, holding me tightly to his body. Feeling like a caged animal, I rest a hand on the arm pulling me back from the edge. My head falls against his strong upper arm where I cling to for my survival, as I succumb to the pain and let it all out. Pulling me even tighter to him, he brings his free arm forward, cocooning me.

Enveloping me, he rests his head on mine. "Breathe," he whispers. And he hugs me tighter. "Breathe. I got you." I want to, but the breath gets stuck in my throat as the sob threatens to choke me.

Panting for every breath, I feel the sobs coursing through me and finally they erupt. It's a guttural cry from deep in my gut. Holding on to his arm, for strength the water flows like a river down my cheeks over my lips landing on his skin. Chewing on the drops that can't help but land in my mouth, I go to speak, but the words get garbled.

Alternating between bawling, heaving and hiccups the air can't properly reach my lungs. "I, can't breathe," I say in, a small voice and it's more metaphorical than a literal statement.

Gently moving his head from side to side on top of my head he whispers, "Yes you can. I'm right here." And I grip his arms tighter, as if that was humanly possible, as another wave hits me. It's a constant barrage of achiness, despair, and sadness hitting me one after another until it feels like I'm crying my own watery grave.

Heaving, I tilt my head. My mouth is no longer blocked by his arm. "Make it stop," I say. Calmly I thrash my head from side to side looking for some respite. It's becoming increasingly difficult to stop myself from the free fall. "I don't want to feel this way anymore," I whimper.

Rubbing his hand over my hair, consoling me like I'm fragile and this time I can't dispute the claim. He kisses my hair. "I hate it when you cry," he says. Softly he rests the side of his face on the crown of my head and just holds me rocking back and forth like a small scared child. I could've used this way then been too.

Cloaked in his warmth, with my gut wrenching sobs filling the room we sit. And after some time has passed, the staccato beat of his heart drowns out everything else calming me.

His head lifts so he can rest his chin on the top of my head. "I would do anything to be the panacea that makes this all better for you. But I'm not. It's where I'd gone wrong. I'd known better. Only you can fix you. And the only way that's going to happen is when you're ready to give him up," he says. His voice is steady, but I can hear the break in it when he talks about my longing for another man. "You're going to have to grieve him, but most importantly you'll have to want too."

"Okay," I whimper. Because I don't know what else to say.

"I love you and I'm here. But you have to talk to me and stop trying always to run away from me. What I thought then is still true today. You're worth fighting for, but you have want to be won," he whispers. Then he gives me a peck on the top of my head as he angles his head to get a look at me. "Are you better?"

"I think so," I say. My voice is small.

Satisfied that I'm no longer a flight risk, he loosens his grip on my waist, and with my back to his front he hustles up the bed bringing me with him. His back flush against the headboard, I wrestle to find that perfect spot against his chest. When I'm comfortable, Luke brings what's available of the blanket over us.

"Better," he says, patting me over the blanket.

Sniffling, I curl up to get cozier. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he says. And I hear him sigh in exasperation. "Let me apologize to you for how cold I was earlier. It was premeditated, but I'm afraid I might have taken it too far," he says.

"I don't understand."

"I had my suspicion that you were acting on some outside impulse and, weren't ready for sexual intercourse. I was trying to call your bluff."

"I see. I understand what you were trying to do, but if I'm honest your aloofness did hurt. But please note at the end of the day it's not the reason for my meltdown so don't blame yourself," I say

"Thank you for saying that, I would never want to intentionally hurt you. Baby when we make love, I want it to be when we're both in love. Not one sided, then it is just fucking."

"You were right. I'm such a mess. When I think I'm better, something will trigger the old feelings, and I'm stuck reliving the same horror." I burrow into him, and he grabs some of my hair pulling it back from my face.

"What's his name? The guy, who has a vice grip on your heart keeping every other man out including me."

"Sorry I can't tell you, I've promised to protect his privacy." I feel the tension in his chest from my response.

"At what cost to you are you willing to protect his privacy. Fuck his privacy. He's slowly destroying you. Destroying us. I feel like I'm shadow boxing. Fighting a ghost," he says.

"Funny, you should say that. For so long I created an image of him in my mind that he's failed to live up to by the way. But I'm so confused I no longer know if I'm in love with the man or the vision?"

"Now, I'm more intrigued. It baffles and angers me that he could so easily take advantage of you considering the history you guys have shared," he says.

"Yeah me too," I sigh

I'm stiff when I try to move, and it feels like I'm on a brick wall of muscles. Shifting, I lift off his hard chest, and I snap my head around trying to get acclimated. My forearms are resting on his chest, I blink as I try to get the sleep out. "Did we sleep like this?" I ask as I bring my hand to my mouth covering my yawn.

Smiling at me, Luke brushes the loose strands of hair from my face. "Yes, we did. You fell asleep, and I didn't have the heart to move you. So this is how we stayed," he says.

"It must have been uncomfortable for you. What about Benji?" I ask and upon hearing his name Benji lifts his head from where he's resting at the foot of the bed.

"I think you have your answer. He knew you needed both of us, so he joined us in bed. But before that I called Braeden to take him out for his evening walk. As for me, I'm never uncomfortable with you in my arms," he says, and he gives me a peck on the forehead. But I should get up and take him for his morning walk."

"Do you have to? I want to lay here just a little longer."

"No, we can take all the time you need," he says pulling me back to him. "Maybe you should stay in today."

"No. I can't. I still need to work on the darn, CQ comparison." And I shift to regain my original position my back to his front.

"What's CQ?"

"A project management software. We're doing a comparison and presenting on it tonight."

"Sorry, I can't help you there. Coincidentally, it's something your buddy Christian Grey would be able to help you with," he says.

I flinch at hearing his name and my paranoia takes over. "What do you mean, buddy," I ask trying to stay calm.

"Nothing, you're doing a paper on him right?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. I was attempting to make a joke, but I guess I failed. By the way, did you learn anything useful last night from that entertainment report? You were pretty lucky to run across that piece; it's my understand that the guy rarely does interviews, and he's never photographed with a woman," he says

Now I feel guilty and stupid for being so paranoid. I wish I could be honest with him, and as I'm thinking of another lie, Benji pounces on me, and I'm happy for the distraction. And as I mess with the coat of hair on his head, Luke calls Braeden from next door for assistance again.

"I can't believe how much I love that dog,' I say.

"I know. Is it wrong of me to be jealous of a mutt?" he asks.

"I don't know, I'll have to check the doggy handbook," I say and I giggle. On the heel of last night, my giggling seems foreign to my ear. Because I can't believe I can laugh.

"I love to hear that sound. So segueing into something heavy, is going to be tough, but we need to discuss last night some more. While you were sleeping, it gave me time to think. And as much as I hate to admit it, I share in the blame for your emotional downfall. I went against my own promise and pushed you too fast. I've enjoyed every moment with you, but I think it's too much too fast. So with that thought it mind, I think we need to evaluate where we are in our relationship and the amount of time we spend together. We need to take a step back."

"So I've finally managed to scare you away, huh?"

Lifting up he grabs me by my shoulders turning me to face him. "Far from it. I want this to last, but by the way we're going, it's going to flame out. I meant what I said last night, you have to want to get over him and I'm not convinced you do. Until you're able to answer that question, we're stuck. I'm not second best material. I'm not a consolation prize and I'm sure as hell, not comfortable. I'm passionate, complex and saddled with my own demons. But when I love I love with every fiber of my being and I require the same level of intensity from my partner," he says and he pauses giving me time to let his words sink in. "There's no room for indifference, it's all in or nothing. And I have to question if you're ready for what I require. If you're not, it's not a bad thing. I'm starting to think we're victim of life and maybe we never stood a chance. Your age, prior relationship, and me falling in love, at first sight, all converging to create the perfect storm instead of a holy union," he says.

"So what did you come up with?" I ask, and I try to keep the edge out of my voice.

"It's simple. We go on dates a couple days out of the week, but no overnight stays. It will give you the space to think about what you or who you want. To find yourself."

"If that's what you want," I say and I run my hand through my hair in exasperation. "I better get up and get ready so we can leave when Benji gets back." I sit up and remove the blanket to put my foot over the edge, but Luke grabs my elbow.

"What did I say about running? We can't have an honest discussion without you..."

"Acting like a child. Is that what you were going to say, Luke?" I sigh. "Right back at you, I can't express my feelings unless you go back to the same tired adage. I'm not acting like a child. My emotions are all over the place. You're right I'm suffocating and right now I just need to be alone." I say, and I jerk my arm from him. Luke is gripping his hair with both hands when I storm out of the room.

Katherine Kavanagh, you have some explaining to do," I say.

"What. What did I do?"

"You didn't tell me Christian had a girlfriend. Let me rephrase that. A Victoria Secret model girlfriend."

"Steele you can't have it both ways. Chastise me when I try to give you any bit of information on the man and do the same when I don't. For your information, this is news to me. I mean Elliot has kept me in the loop, but he never mentioned a girlfriend and certainly not a model."

"Victoria Secret Model, don't forget that," I smirk.

"Okay sorry. Fill me in. How did you find out?"

"Accidentally. Imagine watching TV and all of suddenly being confronted by your ex. And he's with the most beautiful woman you've ever seen. Can you say uncomfortable? Add Luke to the mix and you get awkward."

"Luke. Finally, I have a name. Now that's breaking news," she says.

I mentally chastise myself for letting Luke's name slip. Now that the student reporter has a name she will not let it drop. "Kate. You have to promise not to say anything to Elliot."

"Why. What's the big deal if he has a girlfriend? Ana, he needs to see that you've moved on too."

"Kate, please. It's not that simple."

"It's never been simple with you and Grey. I don't want to talk about him anymore. Tell me about Luke. Now that I have a name, I can take him serious," she says.

"Don't get to use to him. We've reached a pivotal point and I'm not sure where we're going from here."

"So what do you want? From the little you've shared about him, he sounds like a good guy. But I'm going to have to side with Lulu, you don't need to be in a relationship. So this might be a good thing."

"I know," I sigh. "We'll see. Look I need to get going. I have to work on a report for a class coming up soon."

"Alrighty. Love you, Steele. I can't wait to see you. I miss my roomie."

"I miss you too. Bye."

After three hours of steady reading, I have my report committed to memory and I'm as ready as I'm going to get. I shut the laptop and rest my eyes allowing my tired mind to get some rest. Unfortunately when I close them, all I see are gray eyes staring lovingly at someone else. Frustrated, I jump from the bed and decide to get dressed and spend my remaining time before class in the student lounge.

Excited, Amanda holds up her hand. "Good job everyone. Give me five," she says and like the good little soldier we do as she says.

"Now can we get out of here?" Ian says.

When we hit the outside, I get the first taste of life without Luke. Disappointment fills me when I don't see him and Benji waiting for me.

"So Ana what's up with you and Luke? It's been two days and you haven't gone to his place or hung out with him," Amanda says.

"Nothing, we're taking a break," I sigh and I throw my hands in the air. "Who am I kidding, I don't know."

"Let me offer you my two cents." She pauses. "You're different around him. There's an exuberance to you. I know you have an ex, but I think you've got something special with Luke. Maybe you should get out of your own way and let it happen."

"I've tried," I say.

"Stop trying and let it be. Sometimes with relationships you just have to go with it and let it follow its natural progression. The best kind of love happens when we're least expecting it. Sort of like having kids, there's never a good time to have them, but the time is always good when you have them," she says and she picks up her bags. "I'm spending the rest of the week with my girl so you'll have the room to yourself."

"Okay."

"So do you have any plans for the weekend?"

"Not really. Just relaxing. My stepfather is coming on Sunday for a day. He and a few of military buddies are meeting in New York to visit the 911 memorial and he's going to stop by here on his way home."

"Good deal. I'll see you Monday," she says and my phone beeps as soon as the door closes.

**Meet us downstairs- Luke**

**K- Ana**

When I walk through the doors, I see my two favorite guys. Luke and Benji waiting for me on the sidewalk. Grinning profusely, I quickly make my way to them and I go to my knees first greeting Benji and after a love fest with him, I stand to face, the most confusing of the pair. This is the first time Luke and I are seeing or speaking since our show down the other morning. Gazing at each other, there's an awkwardness between us that hasn't been there since our first meeting.

Putting his head down, Luke search between us for my hand. "Come. Walk with us," he says.

"Thank you for bringing him by," I say pointing my chin at Benji.

"You're welcome. I got him for you. Full disclosure I used him as a ploy to see you," he says.

"You didn't' have to. You said we would see each other from time to time."

Chuckling he nudges my shoulder with his. "Yes I did, but I wasn't sure considering how we ended things," he says.

Ours fingers find that now comfortable space and entwine with each other, and lazily my head falls against his shoulder, or as close to it as I can get, considering the height difference. With Benji leading the way, in stillness we take tentative steps as we weave in and out of rushing students on their way to evening lecture as we make our way through campus. If the Aliens landed now, from their vantage point, we would look like the perfect example of a well-adjusted human couple. When in reality, it's the complete opposite; we are a couple at a crossroad, as we search for the elusive happily ever after. Forced to come to terms that their trajectories may differ.

That's why the walk has morphed into something else, allowing us to reach the conclusion together under a cloak of warmth, appreciation, and love. Our constant bickering was made palatable and maybe even exciting because in the back of our minds we always knew we would find a way to make-up. Perhaps, we took for granted, that it was our destiny to play the game of fight and make-up until our time at Harvard was done. Come to think of it, we never talked about a relationship beyond Harvard. Sure we talked around it, but to it. Maybe that's the signs we've ignored.

About a mile into the walk, we end up in front of Luke's Cherokee, and he tugs at my arm pinning it in one smooth move behind my back as he shoves me against the door. Bending down, he runs the tip of his tongue along the seam of my lips enticing them open where he slides his tongue into my mouth. As our tongues dance that familiar dance, an unfamiliar cloud hovers over us. The kiss has a finality to it, the merry go around has to come to a stop and it's time for us go get off.

"I miss you."

"I miss you too," I say softly.

Moving his head up slightly to rest his forehead against mine, Luke tries to control his breathing but he can't seem to find the right rhythm. Or is it my breathing that's off? "This is goodbye isn't it?" he whisper. We both know its rhetorical question, but I answer it anyway leaving no doubt.

Tears beckon, and I swallow hard to lose the lump at the bottom of my throat. "Yes," I whisper. It's finally out. I said it. A check by another failed relationship.

His head pressed into mine, we remain stalk still. Cars are driving too fast for the speed limit. Students are giving us quick glances pretending not to gawk as they make their way to their destination. Benji pants for attention, until his animal instincts kick, in and he does what he has to do on his own. All snippets of life being lived, but this moment eclipses it all. Even as the cold metal of the car door presses into a piece of my exposed flesh, I can't move.

Incrementally, he lifts his head and I can feel him slipping away. I close my eyes to sear the moment in my memory bank before the bond is broken. I won't create a box, it's not necessary. This will stay with me always. It's pure in its honesty; we've unraveled the truth without words.

He finds my hand. "Come," he says. "I'll walk you back to the dorm." A subtle hint to the shift in the dynamics of our relationship, our fingers do not automatically lock together. They barely touch, he has to grasp my fingertips to catch hold. The resulting connection is tentative, cold and limp.

I take a seat in the standard-issue desk chair to ponder what just happened and how I'm supposed to feel. With Jose and Christian, I didn't have to wonder the emotions were swift and gut wrenching. I was madly in love with Christian and thought of him as the love of my life. Jose was a placeholder, whose true value was in the friendship we'd cultivated. With Luke I'm ambivalent, I don't feel much of anything. And for someone who thrives on the extremes on the emotion barometer, falling in the middle is odd. I'm not a psychologist so I don't know what it means, what it says about our relationship. But Luke must have known because he alluded to it the other night or was it the next morning? It's all a blur. But it's over now.

The other sad truth, Luke had touched on it too, and I guess I'd had always known it was at the root of my problem. Not that I can't, but I don't want to let Christian go.

"This is so much fun," Jasmine yells to the top of her voice as she knocks back another shot. Slamming the small glass down to the bar, she rests her hands on my knees and gets directly in my face. "I'm so glad you came out with us," she says.

I take a drag on the straw resting in my pale pink concoction and I roll my eyes at her. "As if I had a choice," I say.

"Come on, Ana don't be like that. This is the first time you've been to a bar with us-" The bartender interrupts her to give her a drink sent over by a suitor. Taking the drink, she leans back to give him a message to pass on to the hopeful frat boy. "Tell him thank you, but I'm with my girls," she says. "Sorry about that, now where were we? Oh yeah, I'm glad you're out with us. I'm sorry about Luke. But I'm happy that you have more time for us," Jasmine says.

"I second that," Amanda says as she clinks her class to each of ours before tossing her shot back.

"You guys are going to make cry. But thank you. It has been fun; you have made the transition with Luke easy" I say.

"Are you sure? You've been quiet about things, so how are you really doing?" Amanda asks.

"This isn't the best place for a heart to heart," I say swiveling on the stool to make my point.

"I know but humor us," Amanda says.

"Look, don't underestimate a bar. It's the best place for therapy," Jasmine says holding up her glass for effect.

"I'm doing better than I expected. For the first time in years, it's just me. I don't have to think about navigating a relationship and it's freeing." I say, and I set my drink on the bar. Standing, I take a few steps to insert myself in the middle of the two and I bring my arms around my Harvard girls, as I've begun to call them. "I can just hang with my girls," I say.

We take a break in the drinking to hit the dance floor. Like at WSU, Amanda, Jazz and I dance with each other instead of other people. The girls are fun, and can shake their tail feathers but being with them doesn't compare to the fun Kate, and I have. Kate is the best with girl on girl dancing and I'm her very willing disciple.

My bladder is overly full so in desperate need of the restroom; I tap on Amanda's shoulder. "I gotta pee," I whisper. As I start to walk off the dance floor, I see my two friends trailing behind me.

We've quickly become a stereotype and the punchline to a stale old joke how many women it takes to use the restroom. Giggling to myself and too busy shaking my head I'm not paying attention to where I'm going and bump into a familiar hard body with a familiar scent. It's Luke and to my horror he's with Morgan who upon seeing me virtually glues herself to him.

For the first time since our separation, I get a strong feeling, and it would have to be jealousy. The ugliest of all the emotions, but at least it's something. My lack of emotion had me second guessing our relationship. From my experience, it's best to feel something than nothing at all.

We are cordial keeping our conversation to safe territory, not venturing beyond how are you and talks of Benji. It's Morgan that usurps the meeting, going out of her way to poke to a finger in my eye cozying up to Luke. For his part, Luke has the decency to show restraint, no outward display of affection despite Morgan constantly reaching for his hand at every turn. However, it's when they go to leave that she finally gets her chance to exact her revenge on me.

Intentionally, invading my personal space instead of walking around me, Morgan leans in so only I can hear her taunting words. "You didn't tear it into enough pieces," she whispers.

After the run-in with Luke and Morgan, the night was pretty much ruined, so we decide to bring the party back to the dorm. And with it all he accouterments that go with a party, alcohol, fizzy water and chips. We swap our going out clothing for comfy of pajamas and fuzzy socks, and then the party starts jumping.

As it often happens when a group of girls get together and drinking is involved the conversation eventually goes to sex. And the raunchier, the better. And on the raunchy meter, we've reached raunchier.

"La, La, La." I click my tongue to the roof of my mouth simultaneously covering my ears to block out the X-rated words "Stop, my virginal ears can't hear this," I say

Fueled by alcohol both women hysterically laugh and at the same time slap my hands down. "Sorry, baby girl that boat has already sailed." They say in unison like they'd rehearsed the words and it only makes them laugh harder.

"Let's be clear, I've never had anal sex," I say trying to sound affronted. I'll never admit to them that I'm intrigued by the sex act and that I did get turned on when Luke probed there with his finger.

Laughing to almost tears, Jasmine hiccups her way through her sentence. "You don't know what you're missing," she says. I think.

"Ana. You know guys are no longer my thing, but even I liked in the ass. Despite what people say, anal sex can be enjoyable. But it depends on the guy. The wrong guy can ruin it for you for life. Now, the right one will make you beg for it," Amanda says.

"Wait a minute you guys are sending mixed messages. One breath telling me not to sleep with him, yet you want to wax hair from every inch of my body that does not include my head. You've coerced me into wearing sexy underwear you've bought for me. Now you want to pamper me like I'm getting ready for a pageant," I smirk.

"No wonder your love life is so fucked up you don't know how to play the game. It's not about him. It's about you. You've worked so hard for so long to look like a boy; you've forgotten how to attract one-"

"Gee Jazz thanks. Tell me what you really think," I say interrupting her.

"Don't think about her Ana," Amanda says stepping in. "What she was trying to say. You should embrace your beauty. It's who you are. Denying it is to deny who you are. And it is a beauty as defined by you, not the outside world. Once you've appreciated the whole of who you are, the more likely you are to attract the right person for you. The men in your life, have represented fragments of who you are that's why you have the quick attraction without the staying power. When you find you, the pieces will fit. Going out with Chad doesn't have to mean anything. It's about discovery, getting you one step closer to your forever. You know forever doesn't have to include another person, it could be about you finding happiness with who you are. Going on a date with someone shouldn't have an agenda. It should be organic," Amanda says

"Fuck that was deep and it sure as hell wasn't what I was going to say. But it works for me," Jazz says, and Amanda walks by slapping her on the shoulder. "Ouch," Jazz says. And like kids they start the bantering.

"Ahem," I clear my throat. "Whohoo over here. Can you two stop with the manufactured fighting and help me?" I say. Once I wrangle them, they take care of me pretty quickly.

"This dress looks fabulous on you. I can't believe you hide this body behind jeans and t-shirts. And those legs. Damn girl. You run for these legs show them off," Jazz says.

"I don't run for my legs. I run for my health and relaxation," I say

"Yeah, yeah whatever," she says fanning me off. "The gams are great take a compliment. By the way in this period of discovery would you considering going out with Ian?" Jazz asks.

"Hell no," Amanda say before I can open my mouth. "That would be a disaster on so many levels."

It's been about two weeks since the breakup with Luke, and finally I let Jazz and Amanda convince me to go on a date. Chad some random guy, we met at a party over a week ago drew the short straw.

So here I am with Chad Brinton, the senator's son. And by the elegance of the restaurant I can tell two things, he's rich and formal. Chad is charming, and not bad on the eyes, but talking to him is like talking to a cardboard cutout. And I don't' know if it's because I've evolved in the past two weeks, but he's not holding interest. I can't stop thinking about a certain someone else.

And just when I'm about to put my focus on Chad, I hear the song, I've gone out of my way not to hear. Even taking the unbelievable step of deleting it from my playlist. Closing my eyes, I listen as Sara McLaughlin's "Angel", consumes the quiet the room and me. By the time, the song ends I know for sure who I want, and it's not here.

The feeling is unequivocal and wiping my mouth with the white napkin I hurriedly throw it to the table. "Chad, thank you, but I need to get going," I say and dash out before he can say anything.

Outside the air is fresh and cathartic, and its help brings to solidify my feelings. On my phone, I see the time, and I hope it's not too late to call. Most importantly, I hope he picks up my call.

Breathing a sigh of relief. "Hello," I say and I hold breath waiting for his reaction.

As the silence looms between us, I hear Ed Shearing's, "Thinking out loud," In the background. Its amazes me how music can say what we can't. Knowing his taste in music, it's an odd selection. Still I take in the words as I patiently wait.

_And I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in_

_love in mysterious ways_

_Oh me I fall in love with you every single day._

**Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it.. Send me a quick review**


	15. Chapter: 15 I Need You Now

Chapter 15: I Need You Now

**FSOG original- EL James**

**A/N: **Thank you for reading, following and reviewing- enjoy

The door opens, and I have to swallow hard to lose the lump that had formed at the base of my throat when I see him standing with his arms crossed over his bare chest. His hair is damp, and his toes tease me from underneath jeans slung indecently low on his hips with the fly left undone. The hairs are peeking through the partially open flap a hint at the wicked goodness its hiding. Forcibly, looking away from the line leading me to sinful thoughts I make eye contact with him and his smoldering gaze scans my body from the soft waves on my head to the high heels encasing my feet. Stepping aside he shifts stance, crossing his legs at the ankles and gesturing with his outstretch arm for me to enter his lair.

I take sure but tentative steps over the threshold, and it already feels like I've had a dance with the devil my skin's so damp, and my panties drenched from his heated stare. The cool sounds of Ed Shearing playing in the background offer me some relief that is until he touches my elbow bringing me to a standstill not far from him. I can hear the soft creak of the door as it closes, and my body goes on high alert waiting for him to walk up behind me. A quiver spreads over my body as his fingers trail along the skin of my shoulders when he removes my coat. Intentionally, he holds the coat, so it is dangling erotically grazing the exposed skin of my leg, and he leans in close enough to touch my ear but he doesn't. Instead, the master at the art of seduction he uses his breath at an unfair advantage taunting the sensitive skin behind my vulnerable ear.

A puff of air leaves me, and my head lolls back, barely touching his broad, muscular chest. His lips millimeters from my ear, he lets them lightly touch the shell before saying his first words. "I want to hear you say it," he says huskily and I don't need any further explanation I know what he wants to hear.

Bringing my head forward, I let my tongue run across my lips, moistening my dry mouth so I can speak. "I love you," I say softly.

He tosses the coat to a nearby chair, "I want to see your face," he says and resting his hands on my shoulders, he turns my body. "Say it now," he whispers.

"I love you." My breath airier and my knees weaker when I see the effects the three little words are having on him.

He bends, and I come up on my toes to meet him halfway. Our lips touch, and it's like we're kissing for the first time. Despite the inclination to ravage each other the kiss is tender and soft. As our tongues slow dance, he reaches around slowly bringing the zipper of my dress down. And then his hands snake in the opening where he rubs his palms over the exposed skin of my back as he feels for the clasp of my bra.

He gently sinks his teeth into my bottom lip as he pushes the fabrics of the little black dress and straps of the lacey bra along the bare skin of my back and shoulder blades. Tracing small circles on the bare skin of my shoulder he leans backward. "I only want to see you. You don't need the adornment. Take it off," he whispers against my lips, and he steps back to watch.

His gaze is burning into me, as I slowly bring the dress and bra the rest of the way over my shoulders and down my arms tantalizing him. The dress lands on my shoes, and he helps me step out the fabric pooling at my feet.

"Shoes too," he says and he makes a gesture with his chin. And one foot at a time I kick the leather pumps from my feet.

"Panties," he says. But soon as I loop my fingers in the lace waistband, Luke drops to his knees impatiently tugging the thin, delicate fabric down my legs himself. Mindlessly, throwing them over his shoulder he grasps me by my hip shoving me against the nearest wall where he buries his face between my legs. Snapping his head back, through hooded lids he looks up at me. "You're bald," he says huskily and before I can respond he drops his head and runs the tip of his tongue along the seam of my recently waxed sex.

Resting my palms against the flat surface, I brace myself absorbing the pleasure from the subtle touch of his tongue against my cleft because it is true what they say. "I waxed," I grunt remembering a question was left hanging.

His tongue spreads my folds and with slow, methodical motions he swirls the tip against my clit. My sensitivity is heightened from the bareness and with his subtle ministration hitting at the most erogenous zone at the tip the of the swollen nub, my body jerks, but I can't move. He has me pinned by hips. Moaning, I'm forced to claw at the flat surface and bite down on the inside of my jaw swallowing my cries. I'm so close to the door I don't want anyone that happens by to hear me.

Then he rakes his teeth against the soft throbbing bundle of nerves before gentle nibbling and groaning, groaning, groaning I try to hold back until he bites down. Caution goes out the window. Screaming my pleasure I go to put my hand in his hair forgetting he no longer has beautiful long tresses to pull, so the hand slides over the top of his newly short buzz cut.

Shaking me off, he pulls back giving me a sly smile, and he sits back on his heels probing my core with his eyes. The sight of him drinking me in down there is so sensual I press the back of my head into the wall reveling in him worshiping me. Inspired, he starts massaging the nub with his fingers, and I fall forward to rest my hands on his shoulder to stay upright. Then he pinches. Then he rolls. Another pinch. Finally, he settles with kneading the pulsating bud between his fingers increasing the pressure with every roll. I start blabbering as I feel my orgasm building. My body jerks and twitches, "Arghh," I scream as my nails sink into his shoulders and still it feels like I'm going collapse. I feel him rising lifting my hands in the process, but before I can react he has his arms locked around me and his mouth covering my mouth muffling my screams.

"I love you," he breathes in my mouth as he continues to absorb my cries, and I can taste my arousal on his lips. On his tongue.

When my orgasm has course through me, he leaves me propped against the wall. My body is sagging, and my eyes remain closed I'm so spent. "I love you," I murmur, barely able to stay upright.

"You didn't last very long," he teases

"Are you kidding me? I was close to coming as soon as you opened the door, so I'm lucky to have lasted as long as I did," I say lazily.

I hear him chuckling, and I'm pretty sure it's at me, but he can't mock me into opening my eyes. Stepping closer he rubs his thigh against mine, and he bites down on my earlobes. "Open your eyes for me," he whispers and I slowly peel them open. Mocking won't work, but seduction does and what a treat. And my libido instantaneously perks up.

Luke has lost his pants, and a discarded foil packet is resting on the floor in their vicinity. He'd just rolled the latex over his ample erection and is fisting it, locking eyes with me he snakes his arm around my waist. Automatically my legs lock into place right above the V of his hips as my arms encircle his neck. Luke takes a step back to angle my back against the wall. He nudges my shoulder encouraging me to let my arms and legs go slack to give him the space between our bodies to align his cock with my entrance.

It's going to happen; I'm going to sleep with Luke. No more teasing, no more debates and arguments I'm about to commit to the man I love, but more importantly he loves me. He starts rubbing the head of his cock along my core disrupting my inner-dialogue.

"Ah." I moan from the feel of his crown against my nub and without preamble he thrusts entering me for the first time eliciting another moan. My body jerks from the force but the arm woven tightly around my waist keeps me from falling.

"Fuck, Fuck, baby you're so damn tight," he breathes and he stops giving me time to acclimate to his fullness. "Are you okay?" he pants.

"Yes," I say in a voice barely above a whisper as I revel in the fullness, and I try to wiggle my hips.

"You feel amazing," he says. Cupping the back of my head he forces it forward, as to capture my mouth in a passionate kiss. As his tongue explores the inside of my mouth, I push against him seeking friction.

"You want more huh?" He asks against my lips. Pulling out of the kiss he rolls his hips causing his erection to rub against my vaginal wall making me mewl.

Then he picks up the pace slamming into me, and the energy behind his thrust pushes my body up against the wall. He's relentless and the harder he thrusts into me the deeper he goes. It's difficult excepting all of him, but I manage because it hurts so good. Needing more, he removes his arm from my waist cupping my ass so he can force me on his erection.

"Oh, Luke."

"Yes, baby." He pants, and he pumps into me. "Damn I'm going to come," he says, and he pumps harder and faster until his orgasm overtakes him, and mine is not far behind. My forehead falls to his and we stay this way until our climax courses through us.

Peeling his head away, Luke pulls out of me, and I wince. "Sorry baby, are you okay?"

"Yes," I nod.

"I love you," he says and he gives a peck on the lips.

"I love you too."

"Thank you for loving me," he says before helping me to my feet.

Finally on the ground, I shake my legs trying to get the blood flowing, as I try to come back to earth after two mind blowing orgasms. But my recovery time is cut short when Luke sweeps me up in his arms making me squeal.

"I want to make love to you properly," he says and leans in to give my lips a quick peck before carrying me to the bedroom.

When we get to the room, his prep work is evident, the linens are pulled back waiting for us. As my eyes continue to scan the space, I see a few votive floating in water on his dresser creating just the right amount of ambiance.

"You did this?" I ask as I rest comfortably in his arms.

"Yes. It's all I had time to do considering the short notice. After the debacle of your first experience I wanted this to be perfect for you," he says

My eyes well up as I hug his neck. "You did this for me. Thank you," I whimper.

"Hey. Hey. No tears," he says as he walks us to the bed and slowly lays me down.

Crawling up the bed, he hovers over me. "You smell so good," he says as he comes down on his elbows giving me a soft kiss on my lips before quickly coming back up. "And so beautiful." This time he just stares at me and it's with such enduring love, I almost feel unworthy.

"I can't believe with all my shenanigans," I grimace, bringing my forearm over my eyes covering my shame. Laughing, he tries to remove the arm from my face. "Stop." I swat him away. "You would still want me," I say and try to cover my eyes again, but he grabs my arm.

"Remember what I said, I wouldn't let us fail…" he pauses and raises his brow. "Yes, you've made it hard for me to keep that promise, but I kept the faith." And he smirk and shakes his head. "And prayer might have come into play. I'm not spiritual, you know how I feel about going to church. But I couldn't make myself believe that a God would be so cruel as to give me another chance at love only to take it away.

"I had a similar thought."

"So I have a come to Jesus moment to thank for you being here in my bed. That's a little Irreverent, don't you think?"

"Stop," I yell and I swat at his chest. "You know what I mean."

"Hey, I'm not knocking it. As long as you're here," he says and I bring my hand up to rub his head and cup the side of his face. The hair is still soft albeit short.

"You cut your hair?" I ask, and he kisses the space at my wrist.

"You notice huh? It's in preparation for work. You like it or do you miss the long hair?"

"l love it. You look even more handsome. Now I can picture you being in the military. But you bring up a good point. You're going to be leaving soon; we need to talk about that."

"Not now. I didn't bring you in here to talk," he says, and he turns slightly to get a foil packet from a drawer in his bedside table.

As he rolls the condom, I follow every inch of the latex over his fully erect considerable length. From this view, it's even more impressive. Hovering over me, he goes to his elbows to run his tongue over my lips, and my tongue juts out finding the tip. Fighting for dominance his tongue wins and he thrusts it in my mouth to the back of my throat, I can hardly breathe but I put my arms around his neck pulling him closer to me.

The more flush he comes to my body, I can feel his hard encased erection probing my mound, and incrementally I open my legs giving him entry. And he reaches back grabbing the root of his cock sliding it into my wetness. This time, he's slow as his erection makes its way into my opening. Resting on his elbows, using them for leverage he flexes his hip propelling his cock deeper into me. His strokes are guided, by the strong muscles of his ass he makes slow and deliberate thrusts hitting me deep in my core.

At this rhythm, I can keep up and beneath him I grind my hips meeting his every stroke.

"Damn, you feel good," he moans and without warning he flips us and now I'm on top. Bringing his legs up he creates a table, and he can more easily cup my breasts. "Now let me feel you," he says.

His erection is filling me and encouraged me with his eyes I start moving. Lifting my hips in slow motion I go up and down his long shaft tightening my walls around the rock hard member. When I come down this last time, I push down instead of coming back up forcing him deeper into me, and I grind my hips into his groin. My walls constrict around him as I squeeze again, and again.

"Fuck me," he screams and the sensation makes him bolt up. "Where the fuck did you learn that?" he pants and he fall back on the bed.

"Just now." I wink, and I do it once more.

"Fuck enough," he huffs, and he flips us again, so I'm back on the bottom. "I'll never last," he say and he leans down taking one of my breasts in his mouth. Swirling the tip of his tongue around my nipple, he sticks his finger in and out of me. Then he sucks and greedily feast on both breasts before bringing his head back up kissing me on the skin of my neck. Biting and sucking hard at the spot, he grinds his cock against my stomach. The secretion from his hardiness mixes with the moisture on the body creating a sensual lubricate. "You smell and taste like heaven" he pants.

"Ah," I moan. "I smell like sex," I pant and I squirm even more. "I smell like you. I want you back in me."

Gyrating he shifts until his erection is rubbing at my core. He wiggles his muscular ass pushing the long hard rod in me, giving me what I want, and I gasp from the fullness. Every entry feels like the first time and just as shocking. Nestled deep inside my core, Luke starts kissing me furiously as he pulls at the hairs at the top of my head.

Then pulling back, he grabs a leg bringing it over his shoulder and standing on his knees he starts pounding into me. At this angle, it's easier for him to hit my sweet spot and for his fingers to simultaneously manipulate me down there. Moving his finger from my core, Luke leans over to shove it in my mouth, and I have to come up on my elbow to take it. As I suck, he pumps into me. Wanting more friction, he pulls the finger out of my mouth and lowers my leg. He creeps closer and bringing my knees up he stares into my eyes as he plunges his cock back into me. Putting a finger in my mouth again he pumps it in and out at the same rhythm pumps his dick in and out of my pussy.

Jerking his finger out of my mouth Luke throws his head back as his orgasm takes over him. "I love you," he shouts as he rides out the orgasm. As his climax ends he collapses on me burying his face in my hair, and his flaccid member slips out. Then he slides down my body kissing every inch of it as he makes his way between my legs. Positioning his mouth at my cleft, he starts sucking on my clit, bringing me to the peak and I fall over. "Yes," I scream as the convulsing starts and stops and starts repeating the cycle until I'm limp. Luke climbs back up my body gently kissing me before rolling over to his side of the bed.

"Mmm," I moan as I lay contented against his chest.

"Comfortable," he chuckles and I bring my arms around his waist to curl up on him.

"Very," I say and he leans to kiss me on my head.

"Tired?"

"Yes. Kinda," I say. "Are you?"

"No, I'm too restless reveling in a fact that you're finally mine," he says. "Then again, you were coming from a date," he says and I feel him lift to try and look in my face.

"You're not jealous are you?"

"I don't know; I don't have enough information to make that call. So want to help me out?"

"There's not much to tell. It was stupid I let Jasmine and Amanda talk me into it."

"Interesting. So who was the lucky guy?"

"Chad something or another. Do you know him?"

"No. I don't know any chads. Good thing I would have to punch him out."

"Don't say that, I don't condone violence," I say.

"Well before I make you any promises, let me ask you another question. Did you kiss him?"

"No," I say affronted. "The plate barely hit the table before I ditched him for you."

"That's my girl," he says pulling me tighter to him. "You do know you won't be going out with any other guys' right?"

"I hope not. I don't plan to be in an open relationship," I say. "Speaking of open relationships, now it's my turn to probe. So you and Morgan?" I ask, and he immediately tenses.

"OH," he sighs. "That was a mistake. By the way I didn't ask her to the bar, she happened to be there.

"You're being pretty vague. So I'll come right out and ask you. Did you sleep with her?"

He hesitates and pulls me closer and tries to qualify his response by reminding me that he loves me. But in the end the answer is yes.

"Don't let it ruin the night. She was a poor distraction. A mistake. I didn't think I had a chance with you. Hell, I'd just given you all your clothes back. We were sharing Benji's like divorced parents having him shuttled between us, so we wouldn't have to see each other," he says.

"I know. It still hurts. If only it was anyone but Morgan," I say.

Moving me, he shifts to his elbow so he can look at me. "I'm sorry. If I'd believe this was possible, I wouldn't have been with her or anyone. Please don't let my mistake mar tonight," he says running his hand along my face cupping my chin between his fingers. "Are we okay?"

"Yes," I say.

"Good. You said you didn't eat you must be hungry?"

"A little."

"Okay, stay here let me see what I have in the kitchen," he says leaning in to give me a kiss before exiting.

With Luke gone, I sit upright to reaching for my phone until I realize it's still in my coat pocket.

"Hey you." I look up to see Luke standing at the edge of the door holding something. "Catch," he says tossing me the object. "I heard it beeping. And I wouldn't want you to miss Copper," he smirks before heading to the kitchen.

Relieved I start texting. First to Jazz and Amanda letting them know about Chad. Then to Kate letting her know I have good news and will tell her more in the morning. Nothing to Copper I'll call him in the morning.

When Luke comes in with his tray, I'm reading Twitter.

"Here we go, let's see what we have. Water for you because it's what you need after multiple orgasms." He winks. "Then we have blueberries, popcorn, cheese and leftover bread from this morning.

"What a selection, I don't know where to start," I say.

"Smart ass, why don't you start with the water," he says giving me the glass of cold water with lemon the way like it.

"So what have you been up to?" I ask as I plop a yummy blueberry in my mouth.

Unfurling my legs from beneath me, Luke pulls me down to meet him on the edge of the bed. "Nothing much it all felt like a bad dream without you," he says reaching down to kiss me on the thigh. "I wrapped up my classes. Cut my hair," he says running his hand over the buzz cut.

"I love it. I have to warn you. My roommate back home has a thing for security guys. So she may be after you."

"Good to know. What about your other friend. I haven't heard you talk about her that much lately. What's her name again?"

"Lulu."

"Lulu," he repeats. "A weird name for an adult."

"I don't think so. And please don't ask me if it's short for something because I don't recall another name."

"Okay, I'll ask her when I see her in person and I promise not to laugh at her."

"I hope not because you'll be meeting her at graduation," I say.

"I'm glad you brought that up. What do you want for graduation? I overheard you talking to your friend about your old beetle so I could get you a car."

"No, you will not get me a car for graduation."

"I'll get for your birthday then?'

"No, you will not."

"It's coming up soon. It's a big one. You'll finally be that magical age of 18 where you'll automatically know the understanding of life." he teases, and I reach back for blueberry to throw at him. "What. You're the one who makes a big deal about your age."

"Well forgive me I thought guys wanted to know when they were with jail bait."

"Yes true. But if that were my main concern I wouldn't have approached you in the beginning. Besides the cop has to know and I doubt you're going to tell anyone I fucked your brains out."

"Okay, I'm going to say it. I've been biting my tongue, but I don't like that word. F. U. C. K." I spell it out, and he laughs at me.

"You really are cute. Most of the time I will make love to you, but there are times I'm going to fuck you too," he says and reaching behind me he brushes the container of berries over the edge. "Like right now." And he pushes me down onto the bed, kissing me on the nose. "But for you, I'll do my best to lose it from my vocabulary."

Then he flips me over to my front, and he leans on my naked back. "This time I'm going to take you from behind but not in the ass," he says and the words reminds me of the crude but frank discussion I had with my Harvard girls.

"What if I wanted you too?" I say, and I squeeze my eyes embarrassed by my question.

"If I had to guess I'd bet you're ten shades of red. But lucky you, I happen to love a girl who can't say fuck but wants in the ass," he chuckles kissing me on the back of my head. "Seriously, I will one day very soon but not tonight. You're not quite ready for that yet. I have some toys that will help get you ready. We'll experiment some other time," he says before he forcibly bringing my hips up. "Your ass is so beautiful," he says rubbing his palms over my cheeks and without warning I feel something in the little-puckered hole that makes me jerk and yelp. "It's just my little finger," he groans as he sticks it in and out the small opening.

"Okay," I pant and I brace myself. And I feel the tip of his finger rimming around the pucker, as he slowly insert it in and out of me. It's doing something to me. It feels like I'm morphing into another person. A wanton vixen and I want more of him. More of the rude treatment. For so long I'd thought of this was taboo. Feeling dirty for simply thinking about it. He made me feel that way. I close my mind to block out the nightmarish thoughts that threaten to crowd out the euphoria I'm feeling right now.

"Enough," he says falling over me. "I really don't want to fuck you here tonight." Then I hear him ripping a foil packet, and soon he's plunges into me from behind causing me to jolt forward.

Controlling the thrusts by the flex of his hips and pulling mine back to meet the thrust he sets a punishment pace. He's showing me no mercy and after getting me so aroused it's what I need. I need it rough and hard to quench this insatiable fire brewing in my belly.

"Faster," I huff and Luke makes the adjustment so he can give me what I want. He moves a hand from my waist and rest his forearm across my back ramming his cock into me making me scream and jut forward. The power behind his pounding lifts me from the bed.

Getting turned on more and more from each punishing thrust, I feel the need to touch myself. So I shift to cup my breasts but Luke pushes me back down to all fours.

"Baby, if you touch yourself I'll come," he says.

One, two, three, four, five hard thrusts and I'm spiraling and I can feel his cock twitching and I know he's falling too. Collapsing over me Luke rides his organism out.

"Oh fucking you is going to be one hell of a ride," he says.

I wake up to a tongue licking my forehead and in my sleepy haze I swat at it, and I hear a whimper. Luke's laughing brings me out of my sleep. I switch from stomach to my back to see Benji looking sheepishly looking at me. Questioning, but why mommy? And I have to pat him to show him the love and let him know I appreciated the wake call.

"Good morning, baby," Luke says kneeling next to Benji.

"Good morning," I say and I go to sit up. "Oh God I'm sore." I say wincing the entire time.

"Sorry, I was overly zealous for our first night. I shouldn't have taken you in the shower," he says pushing my hair from my face.

"I don't remember trying to stopping. Do you?"

"No.

"So last night really happened?"

"Yep," he says resting his hand on mine.

"And you're still here," I sniff as I try to push back tears.

"Hey, hey, the no cry rule is still in effect," he says and he nudges me so he can get in the bed next to me. He pulls me to his chest. "I'm not him. I will never treat like that. Now that I have you, I will never take you for granted. And I'm here to help wipe away the pain from that experience and to let you know all men are not pigs. Okay?" he says leaning over to kiss me on the forehead. "I love you and I will always protect you from now own. In hindsight it's a good thing I don't know who it is, I would hunt him down and make him pay."

"Let's not talk about him. In the end you were the panacea to cure what ails me," I say pulling him tighter. "When you first told me about Alison you said you knew you were over her when your heart no longer beat for her. Well, my epiphany wasn't that dramatic, I just felt it. You were occupying my thoughts. I was thinking of you more than him. Then I knew, I was destined for you so let's not dwell in the past. "

"Sounds good to me." He says. "You know I forgot to mention this last night. I planned two big trips when we were separated; to New York and home. I want you to go."

"Okay. I've never been to NY, but I'm nervous about meeting your family."

"Don't be they'll love you as much as I do," he says giving me a quick peck. "Baby whose Morton?"

Sitting up I feel the blood draining from my face. "Why"

Coming up with me he rests his hands on my shoulders." Hey, you look like you've seen a ghost. You called his name in your sleep," he says, and I let out a sigh of relief and collapse back on the bed.

"You already know. I told you most of it when we first met. So we can we drop it?"

"Yes, I have other things I would rather talk about anyways."

"Like what?" I ask cuddling up to him.

"To start off, hearing you say I love you," he says.

"Okay, that's easy. I love you. More than I was willing to admit."

_" '__Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." Alfred Lord Tennyson_

_Thank you for reading- drop me a review- hope you enjoyed_


	16. Chapter 16: American Honey

Chapter 16: American Honey

**FSOG belongs to EL James**

**A/N** Thank you for reading, reviewing and following- I hope you enjoy

I'd known this day was coming; he'd prepared me for it, every second, of every minute, of every hour of every day, since he'd given me the playful pooch. Still, it has hit me hard, having to return Benji to the non-profit to be placed with his new owners. Luke has internalized his feelings; a skill that may bode him well in poker and his job as a crackerjack security expert, but in a situation like this it's maddening. I want to see him teary eyed and emotional like me, instead of all stoic and reasonable. I want him as a guest at my pity party; we've lost our dog for goodness sake.

Intently I look on the dark gray day that's matching my ominous mood grappling with my feelings of resentment. Detecting Luke is approaching, I feel for him pulling his arms tighter and tighter around my waist, nestling my head on the comforting spot on his upper arm reserved only for me. With his arms locked in place; Luke bends giving me a light kiss on my cheek. My temple. My ear. "I thought you'd want to know, Benji was fine when Matt drove away. I gave Matt the tips to pass on to the new owner so Benji should have no problems adjusting to his new environment," he whispers. Lovingly he lays his head on the side of mine and crossing my arms over my chest he starts to rock me from side to side.

"Did you give Matt his favorite rawhide bone?" I whine as he continues the gentle swaying.

"Yes baby, I did. Benji is going to be fine," he repeats, and he lifts his head. "In hindsight, I think Benji wasn't such a good idea after all? I'd always loved our dogs growing up, and I wanted you to have that same experience." And he continues the rocking motion. "Plus I wanted to do something nice for you," he mumbles and he sounds dejected. Moved by his sincerity, I push my petty nonsensical thoughts out the window framing the gloomy sky.

Nudging him so I can get free, I swivel to see his face. "No, baby don't blame yourself. What you did was the sweetest most thoughtful thing ever and as much as it hurt to have to give him back, I don't regret one moment. You and Benji have been the best thing to happen to me since coming to Harvard. Forget Harvard. Ever," I say. Coming up on my tiptoes I give Luke a peck on the mouth. "I love you," I whisper against his soft lips before I lower my feet back on the floor. "Besides did you think you were going to survive a full week without me crying?" I joke, an attempt at lightening the mood.

"A man can hope," he quips.

"Yes, he can," I say trying to manufacture a smile, and Luke steps back taking my hands with him until we're at arm's length. "Why don't I take you out for dinner to help get your mind off Benji," he says, his eyes so hopeful.

"Let's compromise, stay here for dinner and go to that Country Western bar you like for dessert," I say and this time I manage a real smile.

"Sounds good to me. Though, Lasso's can hardly be considered fine dining and that includes the desserts, but I'm game if you are." Turning to his front, Luke causes my arms to cross at the wrists, and he leads me tangled limbs to the sofa. "Sit," he says releasing my hands and plopping on the sofa. He hustles up the armrest spreading his legs for me to join him. "I think you could use some cuddle time," he says looping his arm around my waist pulling me between his wide spread legs to his chest.

"Yes, I could," I sigh. "You always know what I need," I say squirming to get comfy and when I find my sweet spot against his chest Luke envelopes me in a bear hug.

His arms are a safe- haven for me.

"Of course I do, that's my job. Discerning what you need and giving it to you. Making you happy is my only goal in life," he says lowering his head planting a kiss near my hairline. "What do you say I get you a dog of your own when we go home?"

I'm in no way ready to start thinking about another dog lets more getting one, it would feel too much like we're replacing Benji. And what parent replaces a child, not one worth their weight in salt. It's ironic that I feel this strongly about an animal, I've done a complete 360. I use to cringe when hearing pet owners refer to their pets in glowing human terms feeling like they were marginalizing life, specifically my life. I'd equated the love with my mother's love for me, and I was sensitive to the fact that it never rose to the same level. But I know Luke is coming from a good place, so I need to respond in kind.

I'm too cozy and lax in my current position to shift. So to avoid having to rotate, lazily I angle my head back on his chest rolling my eyes towards the ceiling in hopes of getting a glimpse of his face through my lashes. "Can we talk about it later? The wound is too fresh," I say.

"Fair enough." And he bends his torso giving me a peck on the tip of my nose. "But I want you to think seriously about it," he says.

"I will sweetie," I say softly. "But can we talk about going home since you brought it up?"

"Okay, what about it?" he asks.

"Well now that we're officially a couple we should discuss our plans for when we leave here in a couple of weeks. In essence, we'll go from practically living together to hardly seeing each other at all. That will be a big adjustment," I say my voice is cracking at the realization that soon I won't be seeing him every day. I feel Luke nudge my shoulder as I fight back tears.

"Hey come on don't get emotional, you've reached your crying quota for the week," he teases and I give him a weak sigh. "Seriously, I've done some thinking on the topic, and I've been waiting to run my thoughts by you. I'm not looking forward to the long distance thing anymore than you are, but it is what it is. At least we have the good fortune to live in cities that are less than a couple of hours apart by car. So I'm already planning to visit you every other week if not every week. Every week is my goal, the only reason I'm saying every other week is because I'm adamant about not impeding on your personal development. Still, I am planning to relocate to Boston." He pauses letting the provocative statement linger out there.

Immediately I shift to one side so I can get a better look at him. "Luke are you sure? That's a big step. By the time, I graduate we will only be about six months into our relationship. And even with my flakiness I can recognize, it is rather early in a relationship to take such a bold step. Also, it's too big a sacrifice to ask of you. To give up your life in Seattle."

"Haven't you realized it yet, my life is where you are. And it's not a sacrifice. Nor is it completely unselfish. I've wanted to start a private security firm, so this would allow me the opportunity to give it a go. But it's not my sacrifice I'm worried about, I'm more concerned about the impact it will have on you," he says.

"What do you mean I don't understand?"

"This is your first real relationship; you've said it yourself, so you have nothing to compare this too. I do. Like I've said over and over, I want you to experience all that life has to offer and admittingly I want to be a part that experience. But at what cost to you. It's a fine I'm walking. A committed relationship is fulfilling, but it can also be stifling. So here's what I'm thinking. Loving you from a distance, giving you about six months on your own before relocating," he says, and I let out an exaggerated gasp.

"Luke I can appreciate what you're trying to do, but I'm concerned when you allude to staying away. Don't I get a say?"

"Of course you do and don't worry. Baby, I can't stay away from you anymore than you can stay away from me. I'll visit but not as frequently, and we will talk every day. Hell with Skype and face time you won't even miss me. Look I don't know what this will look like for us. It's uncharted territory for me too, but I strongly believe that we will grow stronger as a couple if we're both fulfilled individually. What I want for you is to feel loved unconditionally, worshiped beyond measure, and protected wholeheartedly. I want to safe-guard your heart. I also want you to succeed, professionally, personally, and spiritually in your journey to womanhood," he says and from my awkward position I throw my arms around his neck.

"Just when I think you can't be any more perfect, you find a way to amaze me," I whisper against his cropped head.

"As do you," he says pulling me tighter to him. "So tell me what you what do you want to do with your life," he says. He releases me and I slide back down his chest.

"Well, since you asked. Once I get my Ph.D., ultimately I want to go into publishing. But not in the traditional sense I want to fill a niche that I think is missing, becoming the Jeff Bezos of publishing if you will. It's the reasons I've concentrated on Business and Computer Science for my graduate studies. I'm aiming to marry my three loves creating a business model that I think will work in the dated world of publishing-"

"Sorry to interrupt but this sounds amazing," he says.

"I can't believe this is the first time you're hearing this. I want it to be an Electronic Publishing Company, working solely with online talent from the various writing platforms on the internet and other authors that would never get published by the larger publishing houses. There are a lot of talented writers around the world that will never get discovered by traditional means. While a student of literature, I can also appreciate stories written by everyday people. Because I think there's an authenticity in their words. So I want to tap into it and be the vessel that delivers their stories to the masses."

"Wow, that's the most passionate I've heard you about anything. You have very high expectations."

"I beg to differ I'm passion about you. But this has been a vision of mine since I read my first fan written story on a blog a few years ago. I've been enthralled with the genre ever since, and I thought it would be a perfect way to bring all my passions together in one venture."

"I think you're on to something. So have you considered where you would want to start this business? Since it's in Technology, the Bay area, and Seattle are obvious locations," he says.

"I've been thinking about it. I liked the Silicon Valley when we visited for class. It was everything, I had imagined, but more and more I'm starting to hear chatter that Austin is becoming a big player in the field."

"What about Seattle or any city in Washington for that matter?"

I hate it; he asks very simple questions that I'm forced to evade to avoid the wrath of one Christian Grey. As asinine as his orders are, I'm thankful he didn't include the entire State. Regardless, I'm not going to risk crossing him because I've witnessed the holy hell he can rain down on me. So once again I lie to the one man I want nothing more than to be truthful.

"Seattle. It's a little too close to home; I don't want to be in that close a proximity to him," I say giving Luke a glimpse at the truth without unveiling it.

"Baby, Seattle is a big city. I'd make sure that we'd not run in the same circle if you told me who it was. Plus do you think I would let him harm you?"

"Nice try. But you're not getting his name out of me," I say, and I raise up to give him a peck on the cheeks. So tell me, sir, how did you get to be so such a Renaissance man?"

"Despite my horndog ways in recent years, I owe it to my mother. She's quite a force of nature. On the outside, she looks like any other Connecticut Socialite, but she's a strong advocate of women's rights and civil rights. In particular the rights of girls and women. She surrounded herself with the likes of Maya Angelou when she was alive, Hilary Clinton and Caroline Kennedy. She even sponsored speaking engagements for Malala Yousafazai, and she was at the forefront of the free our girl's campaign during the kidnapping of the 200 students from Africa. But she's just as comfortable working with local community leaders who are in the trenches. She's a fascinating woman, and in spite of her varied interests, and work she was always around to be the best mother possible."

"She sounds remarkable. Now I'm really worried about meeting her."

"Don't be she's going to love you, as much as I do. She'll be very impressed with your educational success and what you've been able to overcome in your life," he says.

"Did she like Alison?" I ask, and I'm not sure why I'm injecting her into the conversation.

"Yes. She did. A lot actually which is why she's been after me to accept her calls." My ears perk up, and I bolt upright. "Wait a minute, are you saying that Alison has been calling?"

"Yes," he says sounding affronted. "I've mentioned it before. I plan to never talk to her, so it doesn't matter."

"I'm sorry it kinda does," I say sarcastically. "She meant something to you once so I think I deserved to know. Plus as much as you denounce closure maybe she needs it and as a girl, I can understand it," I say, and his face is flushing redder than scarlet, and I can almost see steam emanating from his body.

"Drop it Ana, this is not about you. And I do not want to talk about Alison," he says, and I have to duck to keep from being hit in the head by his flying leg as he attempts to storm off the sofa.

Hot on his heels I follow him to the kitchen. "Now who's running," I say resting my elbows on the counter and I watch as he slings the refrigerator open to pull out a bottle of water.

"I'm not running, I just don't want to talk about Alison and you seem hell bent on doing just that. So I'm just removing myself from the situation," he says.

"Nice spin, but it's still call running," I say as I walk around the counter snatching the steel door from his grip watching it slam close as I wrap my arms around his zero fat waist. "Lucky for you I get it and I don't want to fight," I say resting my head against his hard chest.

"I don't want to argue either come on let's get out of here," he says

"Okay, give me a few minutes and I'll meet you in the jeep."

Since we left home in a rush, we decided to have dinner at Lasso's too, or I should I say small bites since Lasso's is a true bar. Our meals behind us, we keep our eyes on the door for my posse. Unbeknownst to Luke I invited Jazz, Amanda and Ian to meet us at the bar. He wasn't keen with it, especially the thought of Ian coming too, but always the accommodating boyfriend he didn't give me too much grief. But assured me I'd pay for it later, and the gleam in his eyes left no doubt as to what my payment would be. The question is how much interest will be collected.

Seeing the crew, I wave them over to our round table near the bar. I've spent most of my time with Luke, so I thought tonight provided a perfect opportunity for me to see them for what could be our last time hanging out together. Seeing that the program is winding down, and Luke has my time scheduled to the last hour.

The girls and I hug it out like we didn't just see other in class, on the flip side Ian and I are more subdued with our greeting. For me, it's out of respect for Luke, for Ian it's for fear of him. Despite his pretty boy face and svelte body, Luke can be an imposing figure especially with his secret agent haircut and the scowl he's now wearing. So I poke him with my elbow so he can stop trying to intimidate Ian.

Everyone take a seat, and I wiggle against Luke getting more comfortable in my position between his legs. The conversations start out stiff until the drinks are delivered, and Jazz loosens up filling us in on her exploits. Can you say TMI? His hands on my shoulders and his chin resting on the crown of my head, Luke just shakes his head as he observes Jazz and most likely attach some judgement on her antics.

He bends to whisper in my ear so only I can hear. "Your friends are crazy."

My back to his front, I lean into his chest." I know, and you haven't met Kate and Lulu yet," I smirk.

In the middle of our banter, Amanda leisurely strolls up to Luke to ask him to dance, intentionally ignoring me. Good decision on her part, she's in for a treat and so am I because I get to be a spectator this time. Our lips meet for what's supposed to be a quick see you later peck but instantaneously it turns into something more X-rated when our tongues mistake our intent and start probing our mouths. When we finally pull away, the girls are shaking their heads in wry amusement while Ian's disgust is coloring his expression. And he tries to be smooth when he steps away from the table to ask a young woman to dance, but his slumped shoulders give him away. Distracting me from my empathy party with Ian, Jazz scoots her chair closer to me reminding me that she's still at the table.

"Ana you are the luckiest bitch in the world," she says slurring her words, and I can't get mad at her she's so cute. "Luke is so hot and that haircut does something to me." She gives me a wink. "If you know what I mean."

"Yes I do Jazz and if you were any other female, I would slap you."

"Please, you don't have anything concerns. That man looks at you like you're filet mignon, a World Series championship, and a hole one rolled into a single hot tamale. For God sake you 'v e been standing between his legs since we arrived and if I had to guess you've probably been there all night. Amanda and I joke at how sickening sweet you two are. When we see you guys out and about you can hardly keep your hands off each other. Particularly that Luke. If he isn't touching your damn hair, he's rubbing your arms or ass," she says being very demonstrative with her hand gestures almost flailing. "And don't get me started on that damn kiss. All I can say is get a fucking room." And she tosses back one of the shots lined up in front of her, and I have to chuckle.

"Whatever," I say and I try to contain my giggles.

"Bitch," she smirks and knocks back another one.

"Right back at you," I say.

"Seriously just between us girls." She tries to point her finger in my chest and misses. "Tell me how good is he in bed?" Jazz asks deadpan.

"I'm not talking about my sex life with you," I say.

"Girl, you don't have too. I was just asking to be nice," she says fanning a hand at me while sipping a shot instead of knocking it back. "I can look at that man and tell how good he is in the sack. He's that perfect combination of all an American white boy good looks, with swagger straight out of Compton. And God tossed in the sun-kissed skin just to make us all jealous."

"Jazz you are too much. For your information, Luke spends a lot of time outdoors and in Southern Cal surfing with buddies," I say trying to explain why he looks more like a surfer dude that someone who lives where the sun rarely shines.

"Who in the hell cares about all that?" she smirks. "Let's see I've seen his abs. By the way he's moving his hip motion, I can tell he has a great pelvic thrust," she says and then I lose it showering her with my pale pink drink.

"Jazz," I say and I have to cough to keep from choking. However, the drink now running down my chin and covering the front of her shirt does nothing to deter Jazz.

"So now I just need to see his dick. Oh wait a minute." She pause. "I've seen it. When you were rubbing up against it, I saw that bulge." She clicks her tongue to the roof of her mouth and sticks her fingers out at me. "So let me repeat. You are a lucky bitch."

"Oh Lord help me," I sigh and collapse in Luke's empty chair.

Luke swears I would never survive the drive to New York without my iTunes, so I'm determined to proof him wrong. But I've suffered through his Heavy Metal crap long enough, so I flip through the stations eagerly hunting for something more palatable. Preferably R&amp;B or Hip Hop but for some reasons the stations are not coming through clearly so I settle on Celine belting out the tired old tune "My Heart Will Go On." Maybe it's because I'm in love, but it manages to capture my attention. And out the corner of my eyes I can see Luke rolling his eyes at me. So to stick it to him, I start lip-syncing to the song as I faithfully keep my eyes on the road. I'm so fixated on the traffic and song I'm oblivious to Luke adjusting his seat and the steering column. But when his hand moves to his zipper I take notice immediately.

His eyes on the road, Luke shoots me a knowing glance when he's finally manages to free his erection. "Time to pay up," huskily he says fisting his cock and I can already see the bead of moisture glistening at the tip. "I want you on your knees so you can suck me off while I drive," he says.

Tantalized by Luke moving his hand up and down the rock hard shaft, I become paralyzed. My eyes glued to him; in preparation for the blowjob I remove the band holding my hair in place. Making it convenient for Luke to play with the strands on my head instead of cupping the back of it. Cupping sets off unpleasant triggers for me.

I do a final check of the highway, before getting into position. Fortunately, the traffic is light and due to construction that has it down to one lane it is moving even slower making it the ideal traffic condition for the risqué act. So I slide to the floorboard out of sight of the other motorists, and I maneuver around the console and steering parts; in order, to reach him.

Despite the advantageous traffic condition, I want to make this quick because I'm still not convinced that the other drivers can't see us. Not to mention, I'm mortified at the thought of a traffic stop and being caught in the compromising position. And finally I have a healthy fear of having an accident with Luke's cock lodged at the back of my throat. Clearing my mind of my silly thoughts and my head of the steering column, I position my mouth at the tip of his erection.

"Yes," he hisses before my lips even make contact and this gives me an idea. I run the tip of my tongue over the slit tasting the coating of pre-cum that has formed, before sheathing him with my mouth. "Fuck," he growls and I feel his body jerk.

Safety first, I slowly pull my head back giving the wave of pleasure time to wane. Weaving a hand through the mechanics of the steering wheel, I replace his hand at the base of his erection with mine. His heavy breathing further spurs me on and slowly I make my way down the length of the shaft that's begging for the attention of mouth. The hairs on his groin tickling my lips and his throbbing erection pulsating in my mouth, I suck feverishly taking in the scent and the taste of him; the saltiness at the back of my throat satisfying me while the fresh musk is arousing me.

Luke cries out my name while the fingers of his free hand tangled in my hair and his hip lifts fractionally pushing his cock further into my mouth. Seeing that his cock is filling my mouth hitting me near the back of my throat, rendering me uncommunicative I respond the only way I can. I pick up the pace and the pressure sucking his erection harder and harder and my cheeks hallowed as I frenetically go down on him.

These jeans are not very inconvenient, had I known I wouldn't have worn them. I can't touch myself, I mean I can through the fabric but I want to feel my fingers gliding through the moisture that is building with every suck of his hardness. Better yet I want him inside me. Just imagining his cock going in and out of my wetness makes me almost climax. So when I feel him twitching at the back of my mouth, I wantonly let the viscous, salty, warm fluid ease down swallowing as quickly as the liquid hits me at the back of my mouth.

Slowly I start to bring my head up giving the tip of his coack, one final lick over the slit coaxing the last bit of cum from him before I release the almost flaccid member. Licking my lips, I sneak a peek up at Luke. His face is glistening with sweat. The dewiness of his skin and the expression on his face is making me wetter, so I squeeze my thighs together trying to find some relief as I slowly retreat. I'm cautious not to hit the steering wheel. Back in my seat I wipe my mouth, give my thighs a final squeeze and straighten my clothes before settling back in for the rest of the ride.

"I love you," he says giving me a warm glance.

"I love you too baby," I say and I reach over to assist with his zipper.

He catches my wrist. "No. I got it," he says. "Are you okay? I mean we've never done that while driving?" He reaches over to give my knee a squeeze.

"Luke, I'm fine. But I would be lying if I said I didn't want to make love to you right now."

"Really. Maybe I should pull over and take care of you. Who am I kidding I want to fuck you too."

"No, I can wait for N.Y and so can you," I retort. "By the way, I love discovering new ways to satisfy you. I want to fill all your fantasies. If it's your job to make me happy, it's my job to keep you satisfied."

"Baby, I was satisfied the moment you walked into Starbucks," he says.

Initially, we'd plan to visit the 911 Memorial tomorrow but since we arrived in the city earlier than expected, Luke made the decision for us to visit it today. It will be his first trip to the site, and his anxiousness has won out. So here we are with the rest of the tourists and locals taking in what is now hallowed ground. Entrenched in thought, Luke stares reverently into the two reflective pools where the mighty Twin Towers once stood, and quietly I step back giving him some privacy with his private thoughts.

The visual of the strong, stoic service man appearing so vulnerable against the solemn backdrop of the Memorial is a poignant one. Standing a proper distance, I see his shoulders shake, so I rush to him fighting my way through the throng of tourists and homegrown visitors that have suddenly blocked my path. In the nick of time, I grasp his hand offering him my support. Being here for him, like this makes me feel worthy of him.

"I'm here baby," I whisper and when he gazes down at me, I see the moisture on his cheeks. I'm supposed to be his strength, and I have to fight back my tears. "What can I do?" I whimper.

"Having you here is enough," he says. And as if he'd been waiting for the moment Luke launches into a soliloquy. "As serene and tranquil as the reflective pools are they are a sad reminder of the two majestic towers that once stood in the enviable plot of land. However, the pools themselves are a tribute to the resilience of the American people and a triumph of the human spirit. In our political system, there are two distinct sides, but only one side of war, and that's the side we were fighting on. For every Soldier, it was about protecting the homeland and all that it represents. Race, sexual orientation, gender, creed, religion, or political affiliation, for us it didn't matter it was one nation under God. I know I signed up on a whim, but it was something I'd wanted to do since I'd had an understanding of what had happened here on that September morning. I wanted to make a difference and not a put on a golf course. I'd known my parents, especially my father, would object to their blonde hair, patrician son, going to battle instead of to Princeton. To him, war is saved for the people of lesser stature and darker hue." He's pauses, and I think he's going to say more, but he's silent.

I'm taken aback, it's the first time I've heard him talk about his parents so negatively. I want to say something, but I let him have this moment because I think he needed to vent. He doesn't have to quantify his feelings, his tour has earned him right to feel whatever he wants.

"Come let's head back. We can stop at a couple of the shops you saw earlier," he says squeezing my hand, and I give his a slight jerk forcing him to look down at me.

"I don't think I've ever said it, but thank you for your service," I whisper. His eyes become glassy breaking my heart, and all I want to do is wrap him up in my arms.

"Thank you, baby," he says. He releases my hand to pull me into an embrace, and we just stand in place holding each other as others gawk at us. Luke removes his arms from my neck shoving a hand in the back pocket of my jeans, and I weave my arm around his waist as we head the short distance to the first shop.

"It was a good idea that we came in a day early. It'll give us more time to explore the city," I say

"I agree."

"Luke, I'm starting to get sad about you leaving," I pout and he pulls his hand from my pocket cradling my shoulders to him as we walk the crowded New York street.

"I'll only be a week ahead of you and I'm already planning to pick you up from the airport so we can spend the weekend together. And if you're not comfortable with us staying at your apartment, I can rent us a room at the Heathman," he says, and inwardly I cringe.

"Are there any other hotels in Portland?"

"I'm sure there are, but this hotel is probably the best. Do you have something against the Heathman?" he asks.

"No. I was just curious," I say.

"Have you given any thoughts to the whole Harvard thing?" he asks, switching the subject.

"Yes. I would love it if you came to Harvard with me. But the support goes both ways you know. I want to be just as supportive of your dreams."

"We have time to work through all of that. I want to talk about your birthday and what's on your wish list."

"I don't want to sound like a broken record so how about this; I will love and appreciate anything you get for me," I say, and I feel my phone vibrating. "Wait, I think it's Lulu. I've been waiting for a call from her."

"Okay," he says, and he steps in the entrance way of a Walgreen's giving me the privacy to take the call.

New York at dusk is beautiful, especially Central Park. The light dusting of snow on the tree branches and the way the light is hitting them creates a fantastical backdrop. With fascination, I rest my palms on the frosty pane of the window of The Four Seasons studying the people below from my room in the sky. I'm guessing natives, visitors along with the homeless are the collection of people hastily walking while pulling what they can to their bodies to shield themselves from the cold. A ping of guilt comes over me for being so comfortable in my warm suite when they are so uncomfortable.

Captivated by scene below, I feel Luke walk up behind me and seductively he whispers in my ear." I need you," he says, and he brings his hands to my front untying the sash on the white hotel robe. As the sash falls away, he slowly pulls the waffled fabric over my shoulders making me quiver when his fingers graze my skin as he brings the robe down my arms to the floor revealing my naked body.

"Yes baby, whatever you need," I murmur as my head lolls back resting on his hard bare chest. After the day he's had I want to be his sanctuary.

He brings his hands up cupping my breasts kneading them as he grinds his growing erection at my back. Then between his fingers he starts roughly tweaking my raised nipples, making them harder and more erect as I mewl. Turning me to his front he shoves me to the window popping a mound in his mouth, and I fist my hands in his hair. As he aggressively feasts on my full, heavy breasts Luke pushes me up against the chilled glass. Breathing hard, he releases my boobs, and he forcibly attacks my mouth before flipping me, so my back is once again on his front.

Gathering up my hair, Luke sweeps it to one shoulder and his fingertips makes heated tracks along my nape tempting my head to tilt in the same direction of my hair giving him full access to my bare neck and shoulder. And he starts peppering sweet kisses across the damp flesh. "I'm going to fuck you in the ass tonight," he says. His words are titillating and taboo at the same time making them that much more enticing.

"Yes. Please," I murmur bringing a hand forward to cup the back of his head to hold him in place at the spot he's teasing.

But with the reflexes of a cat he grabs my wrist bringing my arm down to my side. "Keep 'em there," he breathes into my ear as he licks the shell. Then he gathers my hair again sweeping it to the opposite shoulder, and my head tilts once more giving him access to this side of my body where he peppers the shoulder with his butterfly kisses. "You're beautiful," he murmurs against my skin. Cradling the exposed side of my head, Luke cups my face. "And you're all mine," he whispers nudging my head to the opposite side. Treating me like a rag doll, Luke gently lobs my head from side to side kissing the exposed areas as he goes.

"Ah," I moan as every back and forth volley ratchets up my arousal.

"Do you remember what I told you?" he asks but he doesn't give me time to respond before reiterating the key points. "First I'm going to lube your ass and my dick to make it easier for me to enter you. Then I'll line up with you, but when my dick makes contact with the puckered hole I will need you to remain relaxed resisting the urge to seize up. Tensing will only make it more uncomfortable maybe even painful. So going against your natural instinct, I want you to push back against me instead," he says. He punctuates each sentence with a kiss on the back of my shoulder. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he implores.

"Yes," I say wiggling my ass for confirmation. Then I hear the familiar ripping of a foil packet and unfamiliar sound of lube.

"I'm going to take you now," he says running the crown along the seam of my ass. "Please let me know if it's too much and I'll pull out immediately," he says as he slowly inserts his engorged cock into the tight puckered entrance.

"Argh," I groan. So far the sublime eroticism, is elevating the act beyond sensual. Getting over the initial evasion I want more, and I start grinding against him. Luke pushes me flush against the window smashing my breasts and warmth to the cool glass as he works his cock further into the narrow opening stretching me. "Oh," I wince as he takes me a tad beyond my pain threshold.

Snaking his arm, he finds space between my belly and the window to press his palm flat against my stomach forcing me back. "Remember. Relax," he says huskily, as he continues pushing his shaft into the tight opening. "Oh Gawd," I cry out as I claw at the frigid window pane.

He stops giving me time to acclimate. "Baby, you're doing great. I'm almost there," he whispers. "We're at the point where either way it's going to pinch at little. So I'm going to make it quick and just go for it. At first there may be some discomfort but it will rapidly subside." And without warning, he flexes his ass driving his cock into me.

"Argh, Fuuuuck" I scream out loud, and I mumble pinch-my-ass-that-shit hurts-like a motherfucker in my head. Thankfully, he's right about the burning sensation. It subsides the more his cock becomes sheath in the tight channel quickly morphing into a sensation too euphoric to put into words.

My naive mind is finding it difficult to reconcile the girl who up until two months ago had rejected the idea of a cock in her vagina and is now reveling in having one in her ass. I'm one of the good ones; despite life's circumstances, a good girl. And they don't do such things. I'd crossed the moral line with oral sex and sexual intercourse, but with anal sex I've pole vaulted over it. Was all Lulu's sacrifice to keep me from the darker side in vain? Is this even the dark side or is part of the mainstream and I'm just catching up. Valid questions; I'll have to psychoanalyze later. Along with why I'm calling Morton's name in my sleep when things are going so well for. Okay, I've gone too far. I need to get out of my head before I sabotage the moment.

His arm encircling my waist Luke pulls me to him causing my ass to jut out sending my back into the table position giving him free rein of my ass. Giving me two hard slaps on each globe he roughly pounds into me, making me jolt, with the only the things keeping me grounded are my palms resting against the window and my share will. "Luke," I cry out. The sting from the connection his hands makes with my skin causes my libido to rise instead of plummet. I want to have the common sense and the moral compass to say no more, but the smutty reality is I like it. A lot.

"Fuck Ana," he groans and he thrusts once more. "So damn good," he grunts. "You smell so good." And he reaches around letting his fingers probe my wetness as he continues driving into me. Then one by one, he pumps a finger in and out of my vagina as he pumps his cock in and out of the tight puckered hole.

"Shit," I moan.

"That's my girl," he groans.

Then he pulls his fingers out of me plunging them into my mouth quickly pulling them back to massage my clitoris. As he pumps into my ass, he starts kneading and pinching the bundle of nerves until I'm racing to my orgasm. Luke cock starts twitching, and I know he's close too so a final pinch of the nub between his fingers he brings us to the apex. As he rides out his climax, Luke collapses on me and he clings to my waist with both arms/

"Will having sex with you always be like this?" she pants as she struggles to catch her breath.

Almost prostrate on her back, I contemplate her question. Even after the rude, some would say debasing shit I've done to her she's still so naive and beguiling. Asking a sexual charged question with childlike innocence as if she were asking me if there's a Santa Clause or why the sky is blue. How am I supposed to answer? I go with the truth, "As long you love me," I say.

My climax over, I pull out of her, and she winces. Though it is to be expected, I'm visibly shaken when I see the hint of blood on the latex. With her back to me, I quickly help her stand upright. "Ana," I say "Baby are you okay?" She stretches bringing her arms up to circle them around my neck, so I bend to make it easier for her.

"Yes, baby I'm fine. I'm perfect," she giggles and dropping her arms she spins to face me. Ana stands on her cute toes hugging my neck and touching her lips to mine. "Thank you. I guess we're destined to have perfect sex because I will always love you," she whispers against my lips.

If only it were that simple. I've willingly lulled myself into a false sense of security because I can sense that a piece of her heart is still beholding to him. Whoever this mysterious him is. When I'm ready to come clean to Taylor, I'm going to have him do some digging and find this asshole. For the first time, I will happily ask Christian Grey for the use of everything at his disposal to destroy the bastard for what he has done to her. And while I'm at, I'll have Barney hunt down this Morton bastard and destroy him too. Her mother I will leave for God, he has a special place in hell for parents like her.

"Promise," I whisper and she slides her tongue into my mouth.

"Come on we should start making our way to the bar," he says taking the shopping bag from me.

"So what time do you want to leave?" I ask.

"Pretty early in the morning. I'm anxious to get back home and cuddle with you on the sofa" he says.

"I like the sound of that," I say.

"So do I," he says. "We're here. Since I need to pick up some papers from the boss's apartment, we won't stay long. Okay," he says removing his hand from my pocket to hold the glass door open for me.

"Okay," I say.

Immediately I find the bar to be swankier than Luke lead me to believe so I'm second guessing my uniform, maybe I'll take my ponytail out. Alas, I don't get the time to do anything because Luke is almost dragging me to three handsome with very distinct looks sitting around a table. Before introducing me, Luke goes around the table greeting each of his military buddies. Seeing him like this is unfamiliar to me, because I've never seen him with friends.

"Guys this Ana," Luke says pulling me forward. "Ana this is Trace, Bradley, and Maurice," he says and I politely shake each guy's hand.

I size the men up surmising that Trace is the Alpha Dog in the pack. With jet black hair that falls below his ears, he easily fits the role; definitely the dark brooding type. Bradly is the antithesis with a baby face and a mop of light brown curly locks. He has a charming and playful demeanor. Maurice is the most striking of the bunch with his flawless black skin smooth like onyx and intense black eyes to match. He is a truly beautiful specimen; I put him that rarefied space that I've saved for those with Greek God status like one Mr. Grey or my baby Luke.

I feel Luke's grip on me tighten, and I relax melting back into his arms and I take this opportunity to remove the band from my hair.

Shit, the guys, are staring slack-jawed as Ana undoes her hair and shakes it out. It dumbfounds me that she can't see the effect she has on men. Men that are my best buddies are eyeing her from her firm breasts and looking past her trying to sneak a peek at her round ass as if I'm invisible. So I clear my throat to get them to look at me or at least her face and not her very tight body.

Bradley catches himself and pushes his chair back asking me to go to the bar with him. Hesitant, I leave Ana with the fellows but not before threatening them with bodily harm.

"So dude, Ana is something else. She comes in here all innocent and doe-eyed and voila. In the flick of a ponytail, she goes from looking like a Disney princess to Angelina fucking Jolie-Pitt. Damn dude, she's hot," he says needling me in the stomach with his elbow. "You are one lucky asshole tapping that pretty young ass."

"Bradly you can stop objectifying her. She's a person, not to mention my girlfriend so back off," I say, and instinctively he puts his hands up in mock surrender smiling a toothy smile.

"Hey dude I'm just saying," he chuckles and he puts his hands down. "Seriously it's good to see you, man and from the looks of thing she makes you happy."

"She does and she's more than her age and body. She's a very complex young woman," I say

"Good deal. Come on lets head back, so I can reunite you with your girl. The two of you are lost without each other," he says

"Hi baby, you're okay," Luke whispers when he gets back to the table.

"Yes, I was just getting to know Trace and Maurice," I say.

"Yeah, Luke. Ana is fine. What did you think we were going to bite her?" Trace snarls and clearly there's tension between them.

"No, I didn't," Luke says and he hands me my drink of choice...ginger ale and cranberry juice.

Finally, the conversation hits its stride, and I learn some more about the guys. Maurice is the bookworm of the bunch; he's in Medical School, his reason for being in New York. Bradley's wife is a native which is why he's here. Trace is a native of the city too and is divorced but engaged to be married next year. He owns a couple of Krav Maga gyms in the city, and he encourages me to take classes when I get home, and Luke agrees.

The meet and greet starts to wind down as Luke and I prepare to leave but Trace pulls him aside for a private meeting. So Bradley, Maurice and I hit the dance floor.

"Look man I get it. The girl is all ass and tits with a face to match but don't you think she's a little young for you?" Trace's is condescending and I have to resist kicking his ass.

"With all due respect, Trace I've had enough of you disrespecting Ana. She's so much more than the chauvinist bullshit you're spewing about her. Did you not hear all of her accomplishments? She has been through a lot in her young life, and she has remained innocent, humble, caring, and honest. And I'm in love with her so get over yourself."

"Sure it isn't lust?" he asks sarcastically.

"You know what Trace? I'm done," I say and I'm about to walk away when he calls me back.

"She maybe all that and a bag of chips, but she's still 17 and where I come from that's a recipe for disaster. No matter how much you try to convince me or yourself, her lack of maturity has to count for something. I was there when a woman utterly destroyed you. So do you want to turn around and trust a fucking kid with your heart? I don't want to see you hurt again. At the end of the day, she's a teenager with hormones all over the place so even if she's doesn't want to hurt you, she won't be able to help herself. So man fuck her into next week but don't fall in love for God sake. You had a very hard time getting over Alison. In the aftermath, I've watched you fuck every woman from here to China to try and get over that shit. I've also been there to help put you back together so the way I see it I have every right to interfere. Mark my word she's going to hurt you. And despite how much you protest I have a sneaking suspicion you already know this," he says, and cockily he leans back in his chair taking a long draw on his Heineken.

"Fuck you Trace," I say and this time I storm from the table making a beeline to Ana on the dance floor. Ignoring the guys, I grab her by the arms "Dance with me."

"Luke are you okay?" she asks.

"I change my mind, let's get out of here. I want to fuck you in every room of the boss's penthouse," I say. I need to work out some of this aggression. And Grey's penthouse is just the place to do it.


	17. Chapter 17 Un-break my heart

Chapter 17: Un-break my heart

FSOG belongs to E.L. James

**A/N:** Thank you for reading, reviewing and following. Enjoy

_Un-break my heart_

_Say you love me again_

_Don't leave me in all this pain –Toni Braxton_

"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck," Luke yells out as his orgasm crashes over him causing him to collapse on me like timber. I hold his wet flesh tight to my equally damp nakedness, waiting for the convulsing to stop and his body to stiffen.

Since returning from New York, Luke has been acting detached; dismissive of me and aggressive in our loving making. I want to be understanding, but his lack of communication has me at a disadvantage. I can't offer him solace if I don't know the problem. He remains prostrate on my stomach a few seconds beyond the ending of his climax, but then with only a grunt he rolls off me.

"Luke what's wrong?" I ask, finally ready to tackle the issue. "You haven't been yourself since New York. You talk past me instead of to me. That is when you choose to talk at all. During sex, you've been aggressive-" Luke eyeballs me, stopping in the middle of removing the used condom and he rudely interrupts me.

"You could've fooled me, I thought you liked it rough," he quips ignorant to the bite of his words and he continues removing the latex from his flaccid cock flinging it to the floor.

"That is unfair and hurtful, but I'll let it slide because I know you're trying to be provocative intentionally so I'll change the subject. You know better than me that there's a difference between the two."

"No Ana I don't know," he says mockingly and tilting his head at me. "Since you're so sexually aware these days, enlighten me," he says sarcastically goading me. And never one to back down from a fight with him I willingly take the bait.

I pull the sheet taut around my chest scrambling to stand upright on my knees as I fix him with a glare. "Okay," I say and I tighten the sheet over my chest buying me some time to let my agitation ratchet down a notch. Then I elaborate on my statement. "Rough is about role play, exploring our limits for mutual satisfaction, and when the sex is over we leave it in the bedroom. But the aggression infiltrates our relationship, and it has nothing to do with mutual satisfaction." I pause panting like a raging bull. "And everything to do with your selfish needs," I say when my breathing has settled.

Assessing me, Luke hustles further up the headboard. "So now I don't please you." He's straightforward, and I'm thrown by the directness and the tone. At that moment I realize my discussion had been hijacked and heading in a direction I had not planned albeit a necessary one.

I sit back on my heels. "Maybe," I say testing the waters. "See I can handle rough, but what you're doing now, I can't. Let me rephrase. I won't... I won't let you objectify me. Simply be a hole for you to stick your penis in at your leisure." I'm blunt, and I think he's shocked by my candor, but he says nothing. He analyzes me, but his expression remains void of emotion and helplessly I watch him cast my pleading eyes aside throwing his legs over the bed. "Talk to me. Please," I whimper. And I have to admit while authentic the tears are a ploy, he won't leave if I'm this upset.

"What a switch," he sighs. "You begging me to talk," he barks, and he bends to pick up the discarded condom.

"What can I say I've had a good teacher?" Is my retort unable to resist the softball opening? But my sass is only masquerading my hurt feelings, and I fall back to the bed in exasperation.

"Ana, I don't have the energy for this back and forth with you right now. I get it," he says running his fingers over his head. "You're feeling some kinda way. You're not feeling satisfied." He looks from me to the door and for a moment I think he's going to choose to comfort me but to my outrage he gravitates to the door. "I'm going for a run."

I lean forward on the bed, and the sheet I'd been holding falls away leaving me exposed and vulnerable. Still I try to reason with him, and the new-found vulnerability makes me sound desperate. "Baby, we ran this morning. Please get back in bed. If you don't want to talk then just hold me," I sniff no longer trying to hold back my emotions. He hesitates turns giving me a sympathetic perusal

"Talking now would only make matters worse. I need some space. I'll dress in the other room." His explanation is cold and adds another layer to an already complex problem. And without uttering another word, he disappears through the door. My tears and desires failed to move him.

"Luke Sawyer, don't you do this to me," I yell after him, and the tears start trickling down my cheeks. "Don't leave me." My voice trails as my sobs swallow up the last words, and I doubt he even hears them. I fist the sheet as I make an effort to put the sting of his words and rejection, into context as not to take them personally because clearly there's something troubling him. But it's hard to do, with my fear of abandonment crowding my thinking.

Soon as the door closes, and I know I'm alone, I stumble to the shower. I make a half-hearted attempt at washing myself as my mind runs wild with conjecture. At the top of the list, fear that he's pulling away from me.

To my dismay, the shower does nothing to quiet the nervous nellies in my head telling me that he wants out of the relationship. So I throw something on and call Kate. I need perspective or reassurance is more like it.

"Hi, Kate."

"Ana. I was just thinking about you. In a couple of weeks, you'll be home girlfriend. Elliot is cool, but you're da bomb diggity," she says, coaxing a genuine giggle out of me

"This is what I needed," I say as my giggle morphs into a nervous laughter.

"Okay, Steel what's up?" She asks.

"Things seem to be off between Luke and me, so I need you to talk me off the ledge."

"Does the word easy mean anything to you?"

"Yes, Kate. I know relationships shouldn't be hard in the beginning. What can I say? I'm destined to have a relationship fraught with problems," I sigh.

"Okay, where's he now? I assume he's somewhere around since you're always with him?"

"He went for a run. He said he needed space," I say making air quotes around space as if Kate can see me.

"I don't need to hear any more; he's feeling suffocated. That's your problem," she says, and there's a pregnant pause. "So there's an easy fix. Stay at your dorm."

"But I don't want too," I whine.

"Anastasia Steele, short of writing it on your forehead with a marker the man is telling you, the problem. I need space translates to you-are-suffocating-me," she reiterates. "So don't be one of those clingy and needy bitches. Give the man his fucking space. Trust me in a couple of days he'll be begging you to come back," she chuckles.

"Okay," I sigh. "I'll do it. But, he invited me home with him for the weekend so what do I do?"

"Steele it's only Tuesday and if I'm right, this little quarrel should resolve itself no later than Thursday. But visiting the family is a big step, eh?"

"Not really, seeing that my invite was an afterthought. He was planning to visit and just invited me to tag along," I say.

"A boy doesn't just invite you along to meet his parent; it's a big deal. You have so much to learn about dating. Thank God you'll be here soon so I can school you face to face," she says and my phone beeps as she's about to lecture me.

"Kate. It's Lulu; I need to take it. Love you," I say rushing her off the phone. "Lulu," I say hurriedly trying to catch her before she hangs up.

"Hi Sweetie, you sound cheerful," she says

"Really, I wish it were true."

"What's wrong?"

"What else but guy trouble," I sigh.

"What's going on? I thought things were going swimmingly for you and this Luke guy?"

"They were, but things have fallen off the rails a bit in the last few days, reaching a crescendo today. But Kate gave me some perspective. I was just talking to her when you called.

"I see. So how is Ms. Katherine?"

"Good." Is my one-word response because I know the question is not sincere.

"So what's going on with you and the young man?"

"Too much togetherness is the diagnosis."

"Let me guess. He wants space?" she asks.

"Yep"

"Don't worry Snow, it's a man thing. So don't sweat it. Besides this little fling is coming to an end anyway with your session ending."

"Not exactly, we're planning to see each other after Harvard. At least we were."

"Oh, so you're going to have a long distance relationship? He's from Seattle right?"

"Yes."

"Interesting," she says coyly.

"Why?" I ask

"Nothing, I just have a great fondness for the city. But back to you. Ana if this isn't working out I encourage you to walk away now. You're so young, and you have so many more relationships ahead of you before you find the right one. So you don't have to force this one."

"Lulu, I appreciate your concern, but I'm okay. You know me, I blow things out of proportion," I say in an attempt to settle her.

"If you say so, I will trust your judgment. Before I go, do you need money?"

"No. With Luke paying for my dinners, I've been able to save money, so I'm good.

"Okay. Then I'll talk to you soon but probably not before you make it back to Portland. I love you."

"I love you too. Bye."

I have cotton mouth from my back to back calls, so I head to the kitchen for some water setting my iPhone on the counter on my way to the fridge. In the middle of guzzling the 4.0z bottle, my phone beeps and I rush to pick it up only to see that it's an alert from an app. Annoyed I slam it to counter face down, and I cringe realizing what I've done.

"Whew," I sigh in relief when I see that the screen has remained intact and I don't have to spend money I don't have.

Luke's been gone for over an hour, and based on his attitude when he left I have no reason to believe that he will be back anytime soon. So taking Kate's advice I use the time to pack up my belongings, and then I set the cases by the door. I'll be ready to go; as soon as, he returns. The uncertainty swirling around in my head, I walk to the wide open window noticing that the sky is void of the grayness that is typical of this time of the year in Boston. It is also unseasonably warm for winter, but I feel chilly because of the chasm that has developed between Luke and me, so I get one of his sweatshirts from the bedroom. It will serve dual purposes; providing warmth at the same time blanketing me with his essence.

Back in the living room, I plop down on the ottoman and make calls to occupy my time. I've spoken to Amanda, Ray and Jazz and Luke still has not returned from his jog. Alas, to keep my mind from traversing from one doom scenario to the next, I call Copper the only person I have not called to today

"Ana," he exclaims. His shock is evident in his voice.

"Copper why do you sound so surprised? We talked yesterday," I giggle.

"I know. But you're never the one calling," he says.

"You're funny." I like talking to Copper because he makes me laugh. I know he has a crush on me, but he doesn't pressure me; he's not complicated.

"So, what's up?"

"Nothing much, I-" I'm interrupted by a sweaty palm on my hand peeling the phone from my ear. I yelp and I twist my body to see the culprit when I come face to face with a sweat drenched Luke, who now has the phone to his ear.

"Bye Copper, I'm taking my girl to bed now," he snarls, never taking his eyes off me and I balk at his words. The audacity of him to one interrupt my call and two talk about me in that manner to Copper. However, before I can chastise him, Luke tosses the phone on the sofa and picks me up throwing me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing making me squeal. "You. Me. Shower now," he grunts as I implore him to put me down.

Our exploit in the shower was more of the same. Disheartened that Luke continues to treat me like an object instead of his girlfriend, I button my jeans readying myself to go to my dorm. I refuse to rehash the conversation from earlier so I will give him the space he so covets. I grab a band to throw my still-damp hair into a ponytail, and I spy him entering the bedroom.

"Baby-"

"Oh," I gasp. "Now I'm Baby," I quip. "I thought I was just someone you used for sex," I spout walking away from him, but my adrenaline is surging, so I spin on my heels spitting out more venom. "To reiterate I can take our rough play because you're still gentle, attentive, and loving...I can still recognize my boyfriend. But since New York," I pause as a revelation hits me. "It's not simply New York; you started behaving badly after your heart to heart with Trace. You dragged me from that bar taking me to your boss's apartment with the sole purpose of F'ing my brains out. I took it then because I thought it was what you needed to exorcise the demons from the Memorial and the contentious meeting with your friends. And when you brought that same aggression home I continued to make excuses. But I'm done with the excuses. I'm tired being in bed with someone's whose communication repertoire consist of grunting and the F word. I've had it with your short, terse responses and broody disposition," I berate him.

"I deserve that," he admits, coming closer to me but I step back when he reaches out to touch me. "Ana, please don't walk away from me," he pleads and I stop but keep my back to him.

"Okay, Luke go ahead. I will do for you what you didn't have the decency or heart to do for me," I say spinning around to face him. Begrudgingly I take the back of my hand to wipe the tears that have escaped my eyes. "I'll stay."

"Baby, I'm so sorry, I owe you an apology and an explanation."

"You think," I quip and I use the same hand to wipe my nose.

Surveying the terrain, Luke slowly advances closer until he's directly in front me. My arms are crossed over my chest, and he rests his hands on my shoulders and I immediately relax. I'm angry at myself for being so weak and giving in to his touch. Gently, Luke massages my shoulders, coaxing my arms away from my chest to open me up to receive his message. "Let me make it up to you. Make love to me," he whispers.

I close my eyes bemused at his tone deafness. "No. Have you not heard a word I said?" I say lifting my arms pushing his hands from my shoulders. "Sex isn't the answer. We need to work on the other aspect of our relationship like communication. I'm sorry it won't' work this time. You won't be able to fuck me into submission," I snarl using his favorite word and the one I hate.

"Sit," he says and I roll my eyes at him. "Please." I don't want to grant him any more concessions but since he asked nicely, I do. Breathing hard, I stomp to the bed and plunk my rear on the edge. Cautiously he follows, but instead of sitting next to me Luke falls to his knees laying his head in my lap. "I see your bags at the door. Are you leaving me?" he asks and his voice is shaky.

"I'm going to the dorm. You said you needed space," I whisper as my hands hover over his head wanting to caress it, but I'm hesitant.

"I'm scared," he says softly. Moved by the emotion in his voice, I'm no longer indecisive, and I let my hands roam over his shorn head.

Bending my torso so I can be closer to his head, I let my fingers caress the prickly hairs on the perfectly round dome as I whisper as close to his ear as I can get. "Why? What are you scared of? Talk to me baby, please," I plead and the hairs tickling my palms offers somewhat of a comedic relief juxtaposed with the seriousness of the moment.

He shifts his head in my lap changing position, and I hold up slightly giving him room to maneuver. "I'm Afraid that no matter how hard I try, you will never get over him. Afraid that despite my inclination to give you space, it won't be enough. Afraid that everything going against us will win out, and afraid that this really is a bubble and in the end I will lose you" he professes and I can hear the resignation in his voice.

In light of his revelation, my emotions are topsy turvy. I was prepared to have another one of our epic battles; now I have to shift mode and be more conciliatory than confrontational. "Luke Sawyer, don't do this to me. You've brought me along on this journey. Made me believe in us, that we can do this. Don't start doubting us now. It is your strength that sustains me that makes this work," I say, and I feel the waterworks again.

Lifting his head, Luke stands on his knees and cupping my face he tenderly wipes the moisture from my cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. "I haven't been fair to you. I let Trace's words get to me and prevent me from being the boyfriend you deserved. The boyfriend I promised you I would always be," he says

"I knew it. I knew Trace was at the center. He doesn't like me right?" I sniff.

"It's not that simple. Trace is a difficult guy to understand, he has many facets. But in the end he's a faithful and dedicated friend. Ana, I was a mess when I first enlisted. He and the other guys welcomed me into their inner circle and essentially saved me from myself. But it was Trace that was most instrumental in helping me get my shit together. So yes his words mean something to me, but I let them carry too much weight and affect me too much this time. Forgive me for being an asshole?" he says, and he rises from the floor. Taking a seat next to me, Luke pulls me onto his lap. "Can I have a redo?"

"Yes," I sob and I lay my head on his chest.

"Earlier, you asked me to hold you, and stupidly I walked away. You needed me, and I failed to live up to my promise to be there when you need me. But I won't again," he says, and he pulls me tighter to his chest. "Did I hurt you?"

"Yes," I whimper. "It hurts when you ignore me. I feel invisible," I whine.

"I'm sorry. But I meant during the sex," he says.

"Well, you weren't exactly gentle but you hurt me more when you objectify me."

"Come on let's get on the bed," he says. And carefully he scoots up the bed with me clinging to him. Once, Luke gets situated against the headboard; I nestle in the crook of his arms.

"Please don't shut me out again," I sniff

"I won't. I apologize. I was too caught up in my head to pay attention to what you needed. But never doubt my love for you," he says, and he gives me a peck on the head.

"I hate to harp on it, but I won't let you take advantage of my body like that again. I don't like how it makes me feel," I say, and I feel his body tense.

"You're right to call me on my shit. Instead of dealing with my feelings, I tried to bury them in the sex," he says.

"When it's not void of human emotions, and I'm an active participant it can be fun," I admit.

"Baby, is that your passive-aggressive way of saying you want me to get you off right now?" he asks tilting his head down at me.

"No. It would be too easy to fall back into the old habits. More talking is what we need not more sex."

"Does that mean you're staying?" he asks, angling his head so he can see my face.

"Depends," I say and burrow into his chest.

"On What?"

"If you need space," I smirk.

"From you never. That was the frustration and bravado talking," he says.

"So is that a formal ask?"

"Yes," he whispers.

"Okay, then I'm staying," I say and shift to hug him tighter.

But without warning Luke flips me to my back and he's hovering over me between my legs. Then he pushes his tongue into my mouth taking me in a passionate kiss. "You smell so good," he sniffs as he grinds down on me. "I promise only to use your body for both our satisfaction," he whispers against my lips letting his hand rub against my jean clad sex.

"Argh," I moan and he thinks he has swayed me. "Sorry, but it's not going to happen," I groan as he continues sliding his hand between my legs and his expression changes. "But I would love it if you held me," I whisper.

Rolling to back to his side of the bed, Luke puts his hand under me pulling me flush to his body.

"I love you," he says cuddling me to him.

"I love you too. And just so you know, I get negative feedback from Kate and Lulu all the time, but I respectfully disagree with them. Because you've made a believer out of me."

"Usually I do too, but there's been a sense of foreboding in my belly, so I'm thinking that's why Trace's words resonated with me. He echoed my inner fears."

"What has changed in the last weeks, to make you feel this way?"

"I've fallen in love with you more and more," he says sincerely.

"Oh, you've just made up for everything," I say flinging my arms around his neck.

"Does that mean, you'll sleep with me?"

"No." As much as I wouldn't mind sleeping with him, on principle alone I will not. Luke needs to understand the gravity of the situation. I may have given him consent with my silence, but he wounded my spirit. Giving into him so soon would nullify anything I've said.

Talking to my crew, I see Luke arriving so I bid them a quick farewell and bolt down the steps to be on the sidewalk by the time the black Jeep rolls up. I signal to Luke with a wave to stay inside the car, and I open the passenger door sliding in next to him.

"Hi baby," I say and leaning over giving him a quick kiss.

"Hi yourself," he says putting the car into gear. "What has you in a good mood?"

"You," I smile.

"Does that mean, I'm getting lucky?" He wrinkles his brows

"Is sex all you think about it?"

"Seeing that I haven't had it in a long time that would have to be a resounding yes." Technically it's been less than 48 hours since we've been intimate, but listening to Luke, you'd think it was a lifetime because he's not gone this long without sex since we started having it. "But I know you're going to make me pay for my bad behavior," he says and I giggle at him.

"Baby, this is not retribution. Despite what you think, I'm not using sex as a weapon."

"If you say so," he smirks picking up my hand giving it a peck on the back. "Where do you want to go for dinner?" he asks

"Pizza," I say enthusiastically.

"Okay, I guess you need to think about it," he chuckles.

Taking a break from my reading, I sneak a glance at Luke, and he's resting peacefully. My eyes are getting tired, so I'm very much close to joining him. Who am I kidding I'm already there, so I clamp the book shut setting it on the bedside table turning the lamp off before I ease down to the bed careful not to wake Luke? He's tired and needs his rest. Not to mention that if he wakes, he's going to demand sex, and I don't know how much longer I can stave him off.

As I get comfortable, I feel an arm snaking around my waist. Pulling my back flush to his front, Luke nuzzle his face in my hair. "Finished reading?" he pants against my ear.

"Yes," I say trying to keep the arousal out of my voice because I don't want to let on how turned on I am.

"Good," he moans sticking his hand in my panty. "Baby, I really need to fuck you. I mean make love. My dick is tired of my hand," he says, and a finger finds its way to my core.

"Yes." Is my one-word answer as I try sounding nonchalant like I'm doing him a favor when in fact I'm just as hot for him.

Knowing that he has me where he wants, Luke starts removing my panties. Once they are at my feet, I kick them off to get lost at the foot of the bed in the sheets. I hear the tear of the foil packet, and bare from the waist down, breathing hard I wait with anticipation. Luke pulls me to him and from behind he slowly enters me.

"Ahaa," I moan.

Luke loads the last bag into the back of his Jeep. Since our fight earlier in the week, Luke and I have been getting along better than ever and last night sealed it. Luke more than made up for his boorish ways, he made me orgasm multiple times. He even introduced a sex toy into the mix, and it made the sex better than ever. The vibrator against my clitoris sent my orgasm of the charts and when he inserted it in my core while taking me from behind it was an out of body experience. Luke has certainly proven that a little kink in a girl's life does a body good, and I already have my request in for more of the vibrator and anything else he wants to introduce. Funny after Christian I thought I would never love another man or want to make love to one as much as I'd wanted with him. Then enters Luke, or should I say then I entered that Starbucks on that day, at that time on that block.

"Hey, Miss Daydreamer. Everything is packed we can get going," he says disrupting my walk down memory lane.

"I love you," I say.

"I love you too," he says. Luke puts a hand on the sides of my waist pulling me to him. Tilting his head down, he shoves his tongue into my mouth, exploring the back of my throat before releasing me. "Now we can leave," he winks.

The Hamptons looks like I'd imagined with all the imagery the name conjures. The air is crisp and clean, and even the people on the street are dressed for a Ralph Lauren catwalk in their latest resort wear. And when we enter the enclave where Luke's parent's summer home resides I'm overwhelmed by the wealth it must take to have the ocean as your backyard. Each structure is as impressive as the next and Sawyer's home is no different. Clearly he underestimated his family's financial status, and I'm not sure why. Coming to a stop at the center of the circular driveway, I survey the grounds and I spot his parents, who look right out of central casting, on the porch waving to us.

"Sweetheart," Luke's mother coos as she rushes him.

"Hi Mom," he says returning her hug and his father joins in for a group hug.

Luke extends a hand back for me. "Mom, Dad I want you to meet Ana," he says bringing me forward.

"Ana," Mrs. Sawyers exclaims throwing her arms around me. The overly exuberant, warm welcome takes me by surprise. "I'm thrilled to meet you. Luke has told us so much about you," she says. Holding me at arm's length Mrs. Sawyer inspects me from head to toe. "You are a cutie. Now I understand why my son is so smitten," she winks. "Come, let me introduce you to my daughters. Luke's sister. The men can finish up out here." She starts to lead me to the house, but Luke's father stops us.

"Ana. You have my wife so excited she's forgotten her manners, "he chuckles.

"Stanley Lucas," she chastises shooting him a look that he ignores.

"I'm Luke's father. As you can see we've been looking forward to meeting you," he says offering me his hand. "Luke tells us you're somewhat of a prodigy. Not yet 18, and already graduating with a Masters, not to mention participating in the accelerated program at Harvard. Very impressive young lady," he says and I can feel my cheeks warming.

"For God sake stops embarrassing the girl and help Luke bring the bags to the house," Mrs. Sawyers says wrapping her arm around my shoulders.

"Come," Mrs. Sawyer says leading me through the front door of the living room that looks like it's ready for a photo shoot for a home magazine. The facade of the house as architecturally perfect fails in comparison to the beauty of the inside. The interior is the color of the ocean with its sea foam greens, aquamarines, and tans highlighted by bright white trim and ceiling.

As I'm admiring the interior, three very attractive young women enter the room Miss America pageant style. Each one prettier than the next and oozing with enough confidence to fill the ocean the home pays homage to. And if I wasn't already intimidated I am now. Immaculately dressed in their expensive resort wear, I can only imagine what they must think of my casual threads. The three women size me up before one of them reluctantly speaks.

"Ana, I'm Jensen. Nice to meet you," she says. Her voice is demure, and the tone colored by her station in life.

It's going to be a long weekend I think to myself. I hate snootiness and sadly Jensen wreaks of it, as well as, the other two evil step sisters.

"Nice to meet you," I say and my voice cracks.

She must feel for me because Mrs. Sawyers steps in to make the rest of the introductions, and the only think I'm left to do is shake hands like a robot.

Alexa the youngest and Connor the oldest, are far colder than Jensen, which means their personalities are like the Arctic because Jensen is far from warm. She's ice- cold, but better at perpetrating. However, with their brother the Frozen Queens thaw and become gregarious and welcoming. It's obvious they dote on Luke and finally things start to make sense. After the over the top adoration fest, Mrs. Sawyer pulls us aside.

"I want to review tonight's plans. Dinner will be served at about 7:30. So you will have time to wind down after your long drive. Seeing that it will be a later dinner, it will be on the lighter side. Finally, I'm sure Luke has enlightened you on my house rules. Luke, you will sleep in your old room and Ana you're in one of the guest bedrooms," she says.

"So baby, what do you think?" Luke asks as he sets my bag on the luggage rack in my room.

"I think a luggage rack in the bedroom says it all," I say sarcastically.

"Okay, let's not get into a debate over my family's wealth. It's why I never got into my family's net worth. After all you cried over a Target outfit?" he teases.

"I like my Target running gear," I pout.

"I know," he jokes crossing the room to put his arms around my waist. "It's one of the many things I love about you. So what do you think of my families so far? My parents are impressed with you," he says.

"Your parents I like. But, to be honest, your sisters are a bit unpleasant."

"Don't worry about them, my sisters never liked anyone I brought home?"

"Did they like Alison?"

"Where's that coming from?"

"I don't know. I was trying to think of the last girl you brought home."

"Yes they did, but you'll be happy to know they treated her much the same way in the beginning."

"Really. No one's good enough for the boy king.

He lets out a hearty laugh. "Something like that," he says. "Come on let's go for a walk on the beach while it's still warm and light outside." He gives me an inspection. "Grab a jacket though, the breeze off the water can be cool," he warns.

Our fingers entwined we trod along the sandy beach, and the salty, crisp smell of the ocean fills my nostril as the roaring sounds of the waves crashing against each other is a feast to my ears. The sound from nature outperforms any of the Apps created to mimic the rushing water. Then I remember I have my phone I can record it and delete the useless Apps later. I will also use it as my new ring tone for Luke.

Squeezing Luke's hand I get him to stop." Let's wait here a minute I want to record the sound of the ocean," I say.

"Okay," he says speculatively

Mission accomplished; I latch onto his bicep and rest my head on his upper arm as we continue our leisurely stroll. Luke next to me, the wind at our backs and the ocean to our right; I feel more alive and at home than I ever have.

"This is nice," I whisper against his arm.

"I agree," he says and he pauses. "I don't think I've ever felt this great walking on this beach, and it's all because of you," he says softly

"I don't want you to go." I say, and I hold his arm tighter.

"It will only be a week-"

"Oh says the man who whined about us not be able to sleep together for two nights," I interrupt him reminding him of his adolescent tirade. "And we're in the same house," I smirk.

"I get your point, but you missed mine. I was trying to say that you'll be back in Portland soon and we'll be together in no time. But let's be clear the week is going to be hell."

"Good. That's what I want to hear, misery loves company."

Suddenly our solitude is interrupted by an excited dog barking running towards us from what seems like out of nowhere. Luke peels my hands from his arm, and drops to his knees as the pooch comes right to him. The scene is reminiscent of our time with Benji, and I feel verklempt.

"Hey boy," Luke coos as he rubs the dog behind his ears. "Buddy?" he says suspiciously as he scans the area and on cue a young woman is running towards us at full speed.

When she's closer, I see that she's African American, beautiful, and her well-coiffed bob frames her face nicely and flows in the wind with the same grace in which she moves.

"Buddy, there you are," she pants as she tries to catch her breath" I'm sorry he got away..." her voice trails when her eyes land on my boyfriend. "Luke," she whispers, and if it's possible, all her caramel coloring leaves her face. In response, Luke abandons Buddy and stands to his full height

"Alison," is all he says and I swallow hard. It's her the infamous Alison, the woman who destroyed his heart. The woman who has been reaching out to him. The woman he loved so unconditionally once. And she's gorgeous. I can't believe it, no blonde hair, and blue eyed bimbo as I'd suspected. Nope, she looks like a smart supermodel with an athletic body to match. My legs are one of my stronger assets, but this girl's are putting mine to shame; they are long, lean, tan and defined.

"It's a surprise to see you here. No one told me you were coming," she says nervously.

"As it should be. You have no reason to know my whereabouts," he says coldly, and her face falls. I put myself in her shoes, and I start to have empathy for her.

"You're right. I was just making conversation Luke. It's been a long time. You look great. Buddy hasn't forgotten you either," she says sweetly, and there's a not so subtle message in her words and any pity I felt for her dissipates.

Luke remains silent but stares into her big chocolate eyes like he's in a trance, and it's starting to become uncomfortable. I want to clear my throat to remind him that I'm there but when my eyes meet hers, I lose my nerves because in them I see longing and regret. And sadness. Quickly we both look away; me at nothing in particular but Alison directly at Luke.

"Well, we better get going. Come on boy," she calls to buddy and gives Luke one final forlorn look before she and her dog starts there jog down the beach to her house I'm guessing.

As soon as she's out of sight I let Luke have it. "Thanks for introducing me. You talked to her as if I weren't here. How embarrassing." I spit out.

"Ana you were right here. Did that look like a happy reunion?" He retorts.

"That's not the point Luke and if I have to tell you the point I'm not the naive one in this relationship. You are more obtuse than I thought, and I'm out of here," I yell, and I pirouette to start the fast teary jog back to his childhood home.

I storm inside letting the door slam behind me; as I make a beeline to my room. Luke is close behind, but I manage to get the door closed and locked before he reaches me.

"Fuck Ana. Open the fucking door so we can talk," he bangs, and I hear his mother chastising him for the language and advising him to give me some time.

Luke and I are still feuding at dinner but for the sake of his family we act like a happy couple. That is until Alison strolls in and takes a seat next to Connor. I want to excuse myself from the table, but Luke immediately leans over to whisper that he didn't know she was coming and begs me to stay. He then shoots all the women in his family a scolding glance. I'm with him on this I can't believe his family would be so insensitive and bold as to invite his ex-fiancé to dinner with this current girlfriend.

"Ana, you and Alison have something in common," Mrs. Sawyer says crashing my pity party.

The cynical part of me wants to ask what? Is that her son has screwed both our brains out or is it the obvious that we're both in love with him. Alas, I play it straight.

"Yes. What?" I ask innocently

"You both work with children. Alison is CEO and President of a non-profit dedicated to ending Childhood hunger around the world, mainly in Sub- Saharan Africa," she says proudly.

Whoopty doo I say in my head all the while flashing a smile matching hers.

Great, after all the platitudes I've lauded upon her, there's another to add to the list, a big heart. Wonders never cease, and the green- eyed monster makes her presence known, as insecurities seep into every pore of my being. When I'm forced to realize that I pale in comparison to this eighth wonder of the world known as Alison whatever her last name, my whiteness affording me no superiority.

I'm elated when dinner is finally over so we can put an end to the sham mockery. It felt like a twist on, "Guess who's coming to dinner," with Alison's skin color being a non-factor and her prior relationship to my boyfriend being the main plot line. As everyone scatter to their own corner and the help scampers about transporting the soiled dishes to the kitchen, I observe Alison hovering. Sure she's engaged in conversation with various members of the Sawyer clan, but her body language tells me she has another agenda. She wants to talk to Luke, but he's avoiding her like she just came from West Africa and the CDC has determined that she has Ebola like symptoms.

"Go," I urge

"Where," he asks stupefied.

"Alison," I sigh. "Talk to her," I implore.

"Why are you pushing me to talk to her? I don't want to talk to her. If I wanted to, I would've taken her many phone calls. Like I told you I don't' believe in closure nor do I need it," he insists.

"Well, I disagree. For the simple fact that on two separate occasions, one of which I'm still fuming about I may add, you neglected to introduce me to her as your girlfriend. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure she has pieced together who I am, but you saying it would've sent a clear message to her and your family. But you punted on both occasions," I say sticking my finger in his chest trying to keep it out of the prying eyes of our dinner companions.

Luke puts a hand on my elbow. "Come on, I can take you over there now," he snarls.

"No. You go. Hear what she has to say once and for all. It has to be important if she's been tracking you for this long and has subjected herself to dinner with your new date. So talk to her for no other reason than to put the ghost of Alison to rest. I don't want this hanging over us," I say

"I've already put it to rest, long before I met you," he says.

"Well just do it anyway, if not for you or Alison do it for me," I say. I know he'll never admit it, but he needs this. There's still a connection.

With trepidation, I watch as Luke escorts Alison through the French doors to the outside deck. Even from my distance, I can see the quiver that swarms over her body when he put his hand on the small of her back. Shifting my gaze, I fix them on _The Witches of Eastwick_, Luke's sisters. Each wearing an expression ranging from a smirk to a sinister grin as they celebrate their triumph in front of me. Luke and Alison are finally talking. Unable and unwilling to take their humiliation any longer, I square my shoulders as a self-defense mechanism to be able to pass the trio on my way to my room.

"Ana," Luke's mother calls to me and my shoulders have resumed the slumped position now that I've made it beyond the Witches.

"Yes," I say respectfully.

"Thank you," she says.

"For what?"

"The girls may not see it, but I know it's because of you that my son is finally having the talk with Alison he should have had years ago. You are wise beyond your years. It takes a secure, and brave young woman to urge the man she cares about to have an honest conversation with the girl he used to love and quite possibly still does," she says and I sigh. Sweetly she manages to slide in a dig with the backhanded compliment.

"Well the jury is still out on the wisdom of the decision," I say dejected that secretly she's celebrating too. "If you'll excuse me, it's been a long day. I want to go to my room."

I've checked my iPhone every five minutes since coming to my room that all of sudden feels like a 4 X4 cell and not the high-end, spacious room from earlier. But finally after the 100th time, the 5 minutes have tallied to about 90 minutes but still Luke has not returned. Tired of passing the time with Twitter, texting, and mindless magazine articles, I crawl off the bed anxious to find another scenery to occupy my wary eyes and soul. Standing in front of the window, facing the ocean I gaze upon the calm water and in my point of vision I eye a couple like any other around the world. The young man is sitting on his parent's luxury outdoor ottoman while the young woman nestles comfortably in his arms on his chest. And if the young man wasn't Luke and the young woman wasn't Alison, I would find the scene romantic. But because the two people are who they are, it's not. It's painful. And in my mind I create numerous captions for what I see. Unfortunately, none of them includes anything reassuring and I want to do what I do best; run. But I'm on his turf, I'm captive in this my well-appointed cell.

"Hey," I hear and in reaction to the bright lights I raise my hand to my face covering my eyes. "I'm sorry," he says and the room is plunged back into darkness except for the moonlight that's finding a seam in the curtains that I angrily drew to a close.

"No. I must have fallen asleep," I say trying to sit up on the bed

"Stay there," he says softly resting a hand on my shoulder. "You've been crying." And when he tries to touch the spot where my tears have dried I turn away from him.

"Don't patronize me, put me out of my misery. Just say it."

He buries his face in his hands and lowers his head as if he's in pain. "She was raped by her father's friend and became pregnant. She walked out on me because she didn't want me to be saddled with helping her to raise her rapist baby. She didn't think it was fair to me," he volunteers and when he lifts his head he reveals the anguish on his face. Various scenarios have ran through my head, but none of them included the words rape and baby.

"Oh my God Luke that's horrible. How is Alison?" My instinct is to show compassion towards her, despite our differences.

"Well, with time she has healed, but having to relive it tonight reopened the wound."

"And the baby?" I hold my breath.

"She lost the baby shortly after she left," he says and I release the breath I'd been holding. "Then she used the time to travel across Europe to get better."

"Is that when she decided to reach out to you?" I inquire.

"No, she waited. She wanted to make sure she was alright before telling me."

"Where is this man now? Since you're just finding out I take it she never pressed charges."

"No, he's a diplomat so he's somewhere living his life without worries. And I learned for the first time he'd been molesting her for a few years prior," he says shaking his head. "Damn Ana, how could've not known. You're right I'm not observant. I missed the signs. I didn't protect her," he says storming off the bed. "And it makes me so angry that she didn't trust me enough to tell me. We were a team," he shouts. Based on my own history of sexual abuse I'm devastated by what happened to Alison, and I empathize with what he must be feeling, but my benevolence has to come to an end. I want some of his attention back on me and I climb off the bed.

"So I'm guessing closure doesn't look so bad right now," I snip. "If you wouldn't have been so stubborn and taken her call we wouldn't be here. Maybe you guys could've worked it out and Alison wouldn't have had to endure further suffering. But you know what Luke, I'm done with the Luke and Alison saga for the night," I say and I march to the door.

"Ana where are you going?" he yells.

"While you've been out consoling your ex, I've been stuck in this room living my own version of hell," I snarl. "I need some air." And I storm out the room closing the door hard, mindful not to let it slam alerting the others to our disagreement.

"Oh Ana," Mrs. Sawyer says when she sees me loitering in the hallway. "Come, let me introduce you to Jensen's fiancé and his buddies they just arrived," she says oblivious to the steam emanating from my body. As she escorts me to the front of the house, I keep looking back waiting for Luke to storm after me. "Hi everyone look who I found. Luke's friend Ana. Ana in the middle you have Jensen's fiancé Kip Morrison. To his left is Luke's Cousin Brian and to the right. I'm sorry sir can you tell me your name again.

"Jack Hyde," the young man says and he pins me with a stare that gives me the chills. "Nice to meet you, Ana," he says and he steps away from the pack to shake my hand. And he holds it a minute too long for my liking.

"Hey Lukie," Brian shouts. "I'm glad you could join us," he teases. And he and Luke give each other that half hug that men do.

"Hi Kip," Luke says shaking his hand as he moves down the line.

"Hi, Luke. Meet my buddy Jack," Kip says and Luke steps the few paces to where Jack and I are standing next to his mother and shakes his hand.

"Nice to meet you dude," he says, meanwhile snaking an arm around my waist.

"Nice to meet you too. Sorry dude didn't mean to overstep I was just shaking your girl's hand," he says out of the blue.

"No offense taken," Luke says. And leaning down he whispers in my ear. "We're not finish talking." I keep a smile plastered on my face as I respond to him.

"Oh yes, we are. I'm tired of being the scapegoat for all of our woes. You need to sort this out yourself," I say softly between clenched teeth and I step from under his grasp.

"Sorry, you guys I'll catch up with you tomorrow. Ana and I were in the middle of something," he says walking up behind me grabbing my arm so he can essentially drag me to the room against my will.

"No worries. Take care of your business, and Gotcha," is the chorus of responses we hear as we clear the threshold of the living.

Opening the door to my room, Luke pulls me inside shoving me against the closed door. "As usual, you didn't give me a chance to explain. And knowing you, I know where your imagination took you. So let me put it to rest," he seethes resting his hands on the door above my head. "You'll be happy to know I told Alison you were my girlfriend. Better yet, I told her that I was in love with you. And as much as I regret how things worked out for us, she was part of my past but you are my future

"Really," I say smiling for the first time since running into Alison on the beach.

"Yes really," he says smirking. "And if we weren't at my parents I would throw you across that bed and show you how serious I am."

"Ana," Luke says walking up behind up me. "Here I brought you some lemonade," he says handing me the cold drink.

"Thank you," I say.

"I told my mother that we'll be spending the night at a hotel," he whispers into my ear. "I can't go another night without being in you," he says as he runs his finger along my bare arms. Due to the unseasonably warm weather, we're able to dress more like spring than winter.

"That sounds good," I purr. "Did she ask why?" He tilts his head and gives me a look like serious.

"No, Ana. She's a smart woman so I think she understands," he smirks.

"I guess you're right," I smile. "It feels good. Like a weight has been lifted. Looks like we've survived the foreboding matter that had been haunting you."

"Yes and I agree it feels good to have this burden lifted," he says squeezing my arm. "Do you want to stay here or go with me to get the food?"

"Stay here. I would like to avoid the glower of your sisters if you don't mind."

"Gotcha. I'll get you a little of everything," he says giving me a peck on the cheek.

"I see you and your boyfriend have made up. Good. But if you have any more problems I'm here. People like us have to stick together."

"Excuse me?" I say looking over my shoulder.

"Don't get me wrong, I mean you're sexy as hell, but you don't' fit in here anymore than I do. You don't need him, these country club boys, they don't know how to fuck a woman," Jack says and I gasp.

"You're out of line," I snap and I'm about to walk off, but he grabs my elbow.

"I can see your ass in those short pants and I can tell you like it rough and hard," he whispers and I jerk my arm from him. My instinct is to head towards Luke, but I change my mind. On the heel of Alison, he doesn't need me overreacting. So I go towards his mother instead.

"Mom, do you mind if I take Ana for a moment?" Luke ask as he creeps closer to me.

"Of course Luke, I was about to go get me something to eat to. We'll talk later Ana," she says heading in the direction of the grill area.

"I have our food on the table," Luke says and he pauses. "I saw you talking to Jack. Then I looked away and when I looked back you were gone. So is everything okay?" he asks

"Yes," I answer quickly.

"So what were you two talking about?"

"Nothing much, we didn't talk that long."

"If you're okay, why do you get nervous when I say his name?"

"Luke you're reading too much into it."

"Really, then why are you shaking?" he asks running his hand down my arm. "Maybe, I should go talk to him."

"Oh God no."

"Then you better tell me right now or I will have a few words with Mr. Hyde."

"Don't. You don't have to act all macho to prove something because you feel guilty about Alison. Drop it and let's go eat."

"After you then," he says waving his hand.

My fucking hands are trembling as I try to get the fucking key in the door. You'd think this was my first time making love to her. But after the shit we've been through lately, I want to get this right. I want her to know she matters to me, the only thing that matters to me.

When I hear telltale clicking sound of the lock jubilation blooms in my heart.

Grabbing Ana's hand l lead her into the suite. Setting the overnight bags on the floor, and I don't waste time situating us in front of the bed.

"Luke we just got here," she says gazing back at the bed.

I put my fingers on her chin nudging her face back to mine. "Shh, Don't say another word," I whisper and then I remove her jacket tossing it on the nearby sofa. "Hold your arms up," I order and I start rolling up her shirt revealing her perfect skin. Then I toss it to the floor. "I need to make up to you for the last few days. Tonight is all about you," I whisper against her skin and I reach around unsnapping her bra pulling the straps down her arms to the floor.

"Oh Luke," she moans and I get on my knees to remove her shorts and shoes. Once she's completely nude, I keep my eyes fixated on her as I stand.

Then I do away with my clothing before picking her up laying her on the king size bed. Straddling her I cherish her body, reacquainting myself with her perfection. I start by exploring the inside of her mouth with my tongue. Then I move on to kissing the skin on her neck. Switching I start on her pert pink nipples popping each full breast in my mouth taking her to the precipice and bringing her back. Then I kiss my way down her stomach until I reach her core where I fuck her with my tongue until she's trembling against my mouth. Lapping up her juices I wait for her body to stop convulsing.

Crawling up her, I stare in her glazed over eyes.

"How was that?"

""Perfect," she purrs and I capture her mouth in a kiss so she can taste herself on my lips.

Then I position myself between her legs forcing them up. Reaching to the bedside table I find the foil packet. Then Lining my dick with her pussy I sink into her.

"Argh," she gasps and I keep pumping into her until she's coming again and I'm close behind.

"I love you," I whisper against his her lips as we ride out our orgasms together.

"I love you too," she quivers.

Wrapped around me like ivy, Ana plays with the smattering of hairs on my chest. "Can we talk about something mundane?"

"Please do," he says.

"So are you Lucas after your father?"

"Yes. I'm Lucas after my father, but I'm not a junior. Jensen is my middle name. It's my mother's maiden name," he says.

"Interesting, you and Jensen share the same name."

"Yes. We all share parts of our parents' name. My mother's name is Maura Anais Jensen. Jensen's middle name is a combination of my mother's and father's names. Stanais. Connor's has her first name and Alexa her middle name," he says.

"Cool. At least you all ended up with names that will stand up to time," I say.

"I guess you're right."

"I saw you hugging Alison last night," I say and I squirm against him.

"So I guess we're back to Alison? I was wondering how long you would last," he teases.

"I guess I'm predictable?"

"Sometimes," he says giving me a kiss on the top of my head. "As for Alison, I was just comforting her. After dashing her hopes, I thought it was the least I could do. But really, I think it was to ease my guilt too. I failed so epically at being there when she needed me most so I wanted to do something for her to make up for it."

"You know it's not your fault. Nor is it hers. She did what she thought was best. I commend her for having the strength to do it."

"Yeah, now that I've been able to set aside the hate, I see the real villain," he admits

"Her perpetrator?"

"Yes," he hisses.

"Where are her parents in all of this?"

"Jim and Elaine? Devastated. Alison is the center of their universe. Her father adopted her after he married her mother. You haven't asked, but I'll tell you her heritage. Elaine is biracial and her birth father was a black man. He died when she was just a baby. Her Stepfather is white and adopted her soon after marrying her mother."

"We do have a lot in common. More than I first thought," I say. "You know I thought she was blonde."

"Baby I have an eclectic taste in women," he says pushing me to the bed "But there's only one I have my mind on right now. Can we stop talking about Alison? You're the only woman I love. And from the beginning I promised you, I would never let us fail," he says and he starts reciting I Corinthians 13.

"I'm kind of tired do you mind going on the walk with your family without me?" I ask.

"I wore you out last night?" he winks.

"Something like that?"

"Okay you rest up and we can leave as soon as I get back," he says giving me a quick kiss.

The house is empty, so I go to the kitchen to make a cup of tea to take back to my room. As I reach my up for a mug, my shirt rises, and I feel strange fingers touching the exposed area. So I immediately come down to my feet, and just as quickly the stranger has me imprisoned against the kitchen counter. Somehow I manage to turn coming face to face with Jack Hyde.

"Jack," I say breathing hard. "I thought you were on the walk with everyone else," I pant as I try to catch my breath.

"Really, you could've fooled me. I thought you stayed behind for me," he smirks. "Nice shirt," he says putting a finger in the V of my T-shirt. Alarmed, I swat his finger away, as I try to step out of his prison. "Where are you going?" A sinister grin crosses his face. "Like you said," he cackles as he pretends to look around, "no one is here but us."

"Jack, this isn't funny. I'm not feeling well. Let me go," I say trying to push him back.

"Well, by all means let me but you to bed," he smirks.

"Get away from me," I yell pushing back on his chest but he doesn't move.

"Listen, little girl," he snarls before grabbing my face and roughly covering my mouth forcing his tongue down my throat. The harder I fight to get away from him the rougher he attacks my mouth and I can taste the metallic tinge of blood. As I'm about to raise a knee, I feel him being pulled off of me.

"Get the fuck away from her you bastard," Luke seethes as he throws Jack to the floor where he immediately starts pummeling him.

"You're hitting the wrong person, your little Lolita wanted it," Jack taunts and that only spurs Luke on cursing him with every lick.

"Luke, please stop," I sob afraid that he's going to kill him. And when it doesn't look like he's going to head my warning, I join the melee trying to pull him off, Jack. As I do, I hear the rest of the family entering the kitchen. Alarmed by what they see, his mother and sisters scream while the men rush towards us. As they approach, I feel myself flying backward, when Luke pushes too hard in an effort to get me off his back. And I hit the back of my head hard against the bottom cabinets.

"Ana." Luke's anxious voice is the last I hear as things go dark.

When I open my eyes, I see Luke staring down at me with worry on his face while I hear his parents in the background.

"Where am I?" I croak.

"You're in the hospital," Luke says and his parents step forward to give me their well wishes before exiting to get my doctor. "You hit your head. Baby, I'm so sorry," he says and I reach up cupping his face.

"Please, don't. You saved me. You couldn't save Alison, but you saved me," I say and I try to smile but it hurts. I bring my hand up in an attempt to rub my bruised lip, but Luke grabs it.

"Let me," he says. "The asshole bit your lip," Luke say softly and I feel the soothing balm of Vaseline being applied to the area. "Better?"

"Yes," I say and he bends down giving me a soft peck on the spot.

"Now it's better," I whisper

"I love you," he says. "I was so scared and enraged when I saw him on you. Are you okay? If you need a therapist my parents have agreed to pay for it"

"No. I should be fine as soon as we make it back to Harvard. How did you reach us so quickly?"

"Soon as I noticed that Hyde was not with us I got suspicious and I just took off. I'm so glad I did. My parents feel very guilty that this happened in their home. So they want to know if you want to press charges."

"No. I just want to go home."

"Okay. But regardless my parents are going to make him pay."

"Ms. Steele," the Dr. says when she enters the room. "You've had a lot of people worried about you, but I knew you would come out in a few hours. Still I'm relieved to see you awake, "she says looking around the room. "I'm glad to report that everything checked out. You suffered a minor concussion so I want you to stay overnight for observation."

"Okay. If I'm fine. Why do you have that look on your face?" I ask

"Well I did find something else I would like to discuss with you," she says looking from me to Luke.

"It's okay, you can talk in front of him," I say nervously and Luke grabs my hand.

"Okay then. I'll just say it. You're pregnant."

Will the hits stop coming?


	18. Chapter 18: Like I

Chapter 18: Love you like I'm gonna lose you

Fifty Shades of Grey belong to EL James

**A/N:** Thank you for reading, reviewing and following - Please Enjoy

Sorry to keep you waiting for so long but I went on vacation and didn't get this out before leaving.

Frozen with my mouth agape, I stare in the direction of Dr. Cohen looking past her rather than at her. Luke squeezes my hand to get my attention, but I'm too distressed to acknowledge him. "Ana," I hear an alarmed voice call to me, but at this point I've drifted too far inward to discern if the voice is male or female. "Say something," are the last words I hear before I finally tune everything out, as I get lost in my head. Where I am busily tripping over the three innocent words**you are pregnant**, Dr. Cohen just laid at my feet.

They're forming a sentence too dreadful to comprehend, seeing that I'm 17, unwed, and unprepared. And like tumbleweeds, over arid terrain the words toss around in my head causing all five senses to short circuit. I'm rendered speechless, mute like my 8-year-old self. My vision is blurring, making it difficult for me to focus. My sense of taste has all but gone. The hint of oil from the Vaseline no longer present on my tongue, and even the pungent smell of the fake citrus scent from the cheap hospital disinfectant is ceasing to permeate my nostrils. Sadly, it also means Luke's touch can't be felt.

The news is such a shock to my system my body is revolting; my heart rate has increased tenfold, my head is woozy, and I think I'm going to faint. Breathing hard, I grapple with catching my breath; at the same time, it feels as if everything is closing in on me. I'm free falling. So many things are happening to me at once; I'm in a daze living someone else's nightmare. Panicked, I double over in fear as I continue to struggle with breathing.

In my haze, I make out the flurry of activity going on around me. Dr. Cohen is pushing Luke aside, as she inserts herself between us at the head of my bed. "Ana," she calls over and over pulling me back from the abyss. Resting a hand on my back she brings her head down to meet mine. "I'm going to need you to take short breaths," she calmly instructs.

In the background, I hear Luke. "What's happening to her," he bellows and his voice sounds strained. But Dr. Cohen, ignores him momentarily, as she continues to administer medical aid to me.

"Miss Steele, you're hyperventilating," she diagnoses finally putting a name to the near death sensation I'm experiencing. "So, I'm going to need you to relax okay," she says softly. When speaking to me, Dr. Cohen is calming and reassuring, but with Luke she's more urgent and forceful in her tone, as she demands that he stays out of her way. Luke handled; Dr. Cohen resumes issuing me breathing instructions, but my anxiety won't let me cooperate. My breathing becomes more labored, as my heart rate continues to rise. My head is woozier than earlier, and I think my heart is going to beat out of my chest. And despite what the Dr. has said I'm convinced that I'm having a heart attack.

Hurriedly Dr. Cohen puts her stethoscope on my back as she maintains her soothing tone. "Ana, remember what I said, you're hyperventilating. Nothing else is happening to you," she reiterates vacillating between calling me Ana and Miss Steele and I guess it's to determine which will garner her the best response. Then she moves the scope from side to side on my back as she continues to talk me down. "Relax so your breathing can settle," she says. "I suspect this whole episode is a result, of a panic attack brought on by the news," she expounds on the diagnosis, and I think it's more for Luke's benefit than mine. "First we need to get your breathing under control so you can start to feel better. Then we can talk. Ana purse your lips and take short blowing breaths. Pretend you're blowing out a candle. In the meantime, keep your head down for a moment to give your breathing time to regulate. This will also help with the dizziness," she says as she gently rubs my back for encouragement, "Good girl," she commends as I follow her instructions to a tee. And after a few terrifying minutes my lungs start to work, and my breathing is almost back to normal.

"How is she?" Luke asks nervously.

"Better. I think the worse is over," the Dr. states removing the stethoscope from her ears. "Ana, I'm going to help you sit back up now," she informs me and gradually she brings my torso upright.

When I'm back in the full sitting position, Dr. Cohen motions for Luke and steps aside making room for him. Concern is marring his beautiful face, as he cautiously approaches and retakes his post at the side of my bed standing adjacent to Dr. Cohen.

"Do you feel better now?" Dr. Cohen asks and all I can do is nod my head.

"Do you want some water?" Luke asks in a hushed tone, and again I nod my head. Filling the glass next to my bed with water, he holds it up to Dr. Cohen seeking her approval before giving it to me.

"Its fine," she nods and he hands it to me. I have to use both hands to hold the glass because I'm shaking so severely.

"Here let me help you," Luke offers and he puts his hand on the bottom helping me bring the tumbler to my mouth.

Giving my vitals a final check, Dr. Cohen agrees that the panic attack is over, and she's happy with my breathing. "Ana, everything looks good, but if you have another episode just hit your call button." And she hands it to me. "I'll leave you two alone. It looks like you have lots to discuss. I guess this baby has come as a surprise," she says empathetically then she puts her focus squarely on Luke. "Take care of her," she warned and taken aback Luke looks from her to me. Dr. Cohen doesn't know the facts and she's making assumptions. I appreciate that it's on my behalf, but she's off base none the less and her judgement of Luke is unfair. So I make eye contact with Luke urging him to stay silently. Luckily, Dr. Cohen gets the message because eager to leave she pats my blanket-covered legs as she pivots to make her exit.

Life is so unpredictable, one minute I'm experiencing it in real time then bam, I'm that terrified 8-year-old little girl again too scared to put a voice to the truth momentarily mute. My life always reverts to this; me battered and vulnerable, it feels like I'm a living boomerang. Destined to revisit the horrors of life repeatedly. But sadly, this problem is too monumental, and life altering to leave to childhood coping mechanisms.

"How far along am I?" I yell out, finding my voice in time to catch Dr. Cohen before she crosses the threshold of my door. Swiveling to face me, she shifts the chart she's holding from one hand to the other.

"Sorry, I don't have that information. You'll need a sonogram for that, which I can schedule for you first thing in the morning. Since I'm an ER Dr., I'll refer your case to Dr. Winston, our OB/GYN, who will be on duty. She can answer this question and any others you may have. She can also review all your options with you," she says, and I'm fairly certain the last part is code for abortion. And I can't be angry with her, it's not a hard leap to make, seeing that I'm single, young and she just helped me through a panic attack. However, regardless of my circumstance, I already know that an abortion is off the table.

"Thank you," I mumble.

"You're welcome," she says giving me a sympathetic smile that says you're screwed and not in the happy ending kinda way either.

The initial shock and impromptu breakdown behind me; the ramifications start to become real. The decisions I made months ago coming back to haunt me. Namely signing the piece of paper Christian shoved in my face without hesitation. I've worked so hard to distance myself from him, and there's a distinct possibility I'd been carrying a part of him with me the entire time. How poetic and if the relationship between us weren't tenuous at best, it would be a heartwarming tale. But as I know well, there is nothing heartwarming about Christian Grey. He's cold, calculating, and diabolical. The pieced together heart beating in my chest is the proof. The mod podge has barely dried over the shattered pieces he left in his dust so I'm doubtful it will be able to withstand another cataclysmic collision with the man. The thought alone chills the marrow in my bones and curdles the plasma in my blood. My head is pounding, and it has nothing to do with the hit I sustained earlier. I'm on a collision course with the prince of darkness, and I'm powerless. I need to find some ammunition so I can at least mount a fair fight. I need to be alone to process this pregnancy and the mayhem it's bringing with it.

Sitting on my bedside Luke reaches up and runs his hand along my cheeks. "Your color is coming back," he whispers.

"At least something is working in my favor tonight," I say sarcastically.

"I know. The knock keeps coming huh?" he says letting out a nervous chuckle. "But I never saw this one...A baby."

"Neither did I, seeing that I've always been careful about taking my pills." Luke stays silent and eyes me speculatively before burying his head in his hands.

He removes his hands from cradling his face and lock eyes with me. "I feel like a dick for asking, but the situation dictates that I do." He apologizes laying down the groundwork for the real question. "Did he wear a condom?" Luke inquires, and my lips quiver.

"No," I whimper.

"Fuck," he shouts leaping from the edge of the bed to pace the length of the room. This revelation not only puts Christian in the mix, it pretty much ensures that he's the father since Luke always wore a condom during sex.

He starts to make his way back to me, and I turn my back on him as he closes the distance. I need to be alone, plus I can't face him.

"Ana, don't shut me out. Not now," he pleads resting a hand on my shoulder. "I'm your boyfriend," he says, and I shrug his hand off me. In this moment that feels like a consolation prize.

I ignore his pleas and issue instructions of my own. "Please let your parents know I don't feel like any visitors," I sniff shifting to get more comfortable. "I want to be alone," I add.

"Does that include me?" Luke asks and from the tone he already knows the answer.

"Yes," I say flatly confirming his suspicion.

"Ana. Come on," he says in exasperation. "You can't expect me to leave you alone. Not after witnessing your fucking panic attack. So no, I will not leave you to deal with this shit alone. Not in your condition," he hisses, and I can't help but address his Neanderthal statement.

Shifting so I'm facing him, I raise up on my elbow. "Luke, we're in the 21st Century and the last I heard being pregnant wasn't considered an affliction," I snap and glower at him.

"Baby, you're twisting my words," he says pushing the hair from my face. "I just wanted you to know I'm here for you," Luke says and he gives my forehead a soft kiss. "I'll go find my parents and give you a minute to yourself," he concedes as he slowly gets up from the bed walking out of the cold sterile hospital room.

Alone, I'm free to give into the emotions that have bombarded my senses since those three words were uttered, forever altering the course of my life. Pathetically, I wipe at the drops that are falling in dribs and drabs down my cheeks as the pity blooms in the depth of my being. The only thing that's keeping me from falling deeper into the abyss is the small glimmer of hope that this baby could be Luke's, but regrettably it's a remote possibility. In my heart of hearts, I know it's Christian's, it's the only thing that makes sense. He's the only one of the two I've had unprotected sex. And coming to term with the truth, is my undoing. The dam breaks forcing me to scramble to keep up with the deluge, so feverishly I wipe my face with my hands and even the flimsy hospital sheet to help absorb all the water.

I sent my parents away with some lame excuse on why they couldn't go back in to see Ana. From the despair on my face, they could tell I was feeding them lies, but to their credit, they didn't challenge me. I suspect it's the guilt over her attack that I have to thank for that. Despite their initial reticence to Ana because of her age, presumed lack of maturity, and simply for not being Alison, my parents have start to come around. Mainly because of how she handled the situation with Alison and once again the guilt. Whatever the reason, at this point I'll take it. Ana and I could use a break, our young relationship is being tested at every turn. But this stands as the biggest challenge. As much as, I want this baby to be mine; it's highly doubtful that it is, seeing that I've used condoms with her to protect against this exact thing. So it boggles the mind that someone who is supposed to be so powerful wouldn't have done the same.

But I can't let the doubt seep in, I have to be strong for her. After what I just witnessed, she will need my strength more than ever. So I'll to set my feelings aside and prepare myself that the wizard behind the curtain is indeed the father. Which would be disappointing and so unfair because the little I've heard of their short but explosive relationship, I'm doubtful that the man even respects her less more loves her. It's his loss because she's the brightest light in this dark world. And considering how he's treated her, for the life of me, I can't fathom why part of her still loves the man. But I have to believe that the good guy will win out in the end. Namely me.

I'm tired of pacing in front of her damn door, pretending not to be here. I'm going to wear a hole in the fucking floor. She's had enough time alone with her pity and self-loathing, I'm going back in. I slowly ease the door back as not to alarm her, because I'm certain her insecurities have convinced her that I'd left for good. She's once again in the fetal position in the middle of the bed. My hand is resting on the door, as I quietly observe her. Ironically a room and bed that we outwardly joked were too small are now ginormous juxtaposed against her small, helpless frame. Incrementally, I push the door open letting light from the hall filter through illuminating the dark space, allowing Ana's shuddering shoulders become visible. Without hesitation, I release the door making it to her side in two long strides.

I pull the thin sheet up around me in an attempt to hug myself. Then the dim light from the corridor creeps into the room as, the door opens and I try to stop the crying before the nurse can see. But instead of a nurse it's a familiar body I feel climbing in bed behind me.

"Luke," I whimper and I try to tilt my head over my shoulder to get a glimpse of his face. "I thought you'd left," I sob.

"Never," he avowals, as his body molds to mine, so he can fit in the small space behind me. "Baby don't cry. It breaks my heart. Don't push me away," he pleads. Bringing an arm forward, Luke rests his hand on my still flat belly covered by the flimsy hospital linens, and I put my hand on top of his.

"You know this is not your baby?" I croak, as I squeeze his hand. Saying out loud what we both must be thinking.

"Ssh," he says. "Let's wait for the test in the morning. Anything is possible. Look at us?" he laments. "Who would've believed that we could've fallen so in love in so short a time?"

"Yeah, look at us," I murmur and he kisses the back of my head. "I just wanted you to know, I'd understand if you walked away. This is a big responsibility."

"I'm in this relationship for the long haul. The good, bad, ugly and anything in between," he says adamantly.

"Well, this can definitely be categorized as the ugly," I snicker, and it comes from a place of nervousness, not joy.

"I would agree. It most definitely isn't how I saw this weekend panning out," he acknowledges.

"What do you mean? You didn't plan for a wistful ex-fiancé, a sexual predator, and an unexpected pregnancy." My voice is oozing with sarcasm as I nudge him with my behind. "You're losing your psychic cred, Lucas Jensen Sawyer," I say trying to find the humor in all of this.

"I guess you're right," he chuckles.

"I'm not right," I whisper. "You had some ominous feelings, but I'm the one that was quick to dismiss them," I say.

"That was my insecurities talking, so you were right to be dismissive," he replies downplaying his intuition.

"Looks like we'll have to agree to disagree because I see it differently. So were your parents okay with everything?" I ask changing the subject.

"I guess. They didn't say much. I think, they still feel too guilty to put up a fuss."

"They shouldn't. It wasn't their fault," I say rubbing the back of his hand. "Luke what happened to Jack? Are you in any trouble?" My anxiety rises, and I try to twist my body to face him, but Luke has me locked in place with his arm.

"Relax baby, I'm not in trouble. Considering he was the attacker, pressing charges against me wouldn't have been a wise decision. The last I heard Jack was treated in the ER and released. After your misgivings, it pains me that I allowed him close enough to touch you. Your bruise is a constant reminder of my failure. In as much as I wanted to do more damage, in the end my dad exacted the ultimate revenge. He's ruined Hyde's cushy career on Wall Street. That will hurt him more and last longer than anything I could've done to him," he theorizes, and Luke sounds like an evil villain as he lays the information out for me.

Are you mad that I didn't press charges?"

"No. I mean I wanted him to be punished, but I understand."

"I'm scared Luke," I whisper.

"I have a feeling we're no longer talking about Jack, are we?"

"No," I say softly.

"You don't have to be scared that's why I'm here," he whispers

"What will you do if this is not your baby?" It's a question I had to ask. I know he'll want to do the noble thing, but in reality he owes me nothing.

"We'll deal with that when the time comes. Don't you know I love you?" The question is heartfelt, and I can feel the sincerity coming from his core but will it be enough?

"I use to, but now I just feel so confused." There's so much I can't share with him, so at least I want to be honest with my feelings.

"Baby, no matter what happens, never doubt that I love you," he reassures me pulling me tighter to his chest. "You'll appreciate this since you love tying in life's little moments to a song. As you know, it's not my thing, but I couldn't resist when I heard the lyrics. You may know the song. It's a duet with John Legend and Meghan Trainor, titled 'Like I'm gonna lose you'."

"Actually, it's not a song I know. So can I hear it?"

"I won't sing, but I'll recite a little of the chorus for you. _So, I'm gonna love you like I'm gonna lose you. /I'm gonna hold you like I'm saying goodbye/ I won't take you for granted/ Cause we'll never know when, we'll run out of time_," he whispers and his voice falters at the end.

"It's sad, but very telling. So is that how you feel, like you're going to lose me?" Ironic, because I feel the same way, but I have reasons to be worried. I'm the one presumably carrying another man's child.

"Baby, this is how I've felt since you first walked into my life. It's why I think I hold on so hard despite my better judgement and I have to confess, the feeling is more prevalent now," he admits.

"Luke," is all I get to say before we're interrupted by the door opening.

The dimmed light from the corridor streams in and we hear clinking as something is being rolled inside. "Dinner time." A male voice announces from the doorway, and we shift on the small bed. As we do, we hear a woman clearing her throat very loudly.

"Oh no. Sir, you can't be in the bed with her. I need you to get out now." The middle-aged nurse orders Luke as the young man lurking in the background snickers. And apparently, Luke isn't moving fast enough for her liking, so Nurse Ratchet stomps to the bed and starts pulling the covers back offering him the encouragement she thinks he needs to move with expediency.

Rolling my eyes at her I getting a glance at the name on her badge and its Carla Fordham. With a name like Carla her poor bedside manner makes sense, she shares the name with my miserable excuse for a mother.

"I'm not hungry," I whine when I see the young man start to unload his tray.

"Well, that's between you and Brandon," the nurse barks pointing her chin to the young Latino man dressed in a hospital uniform. "I just tagged along to check your vitals to cut back on the number of visits to your room," she squawks picking up my arm to check my pulse. "But I would recommend that you eat."

"I agree," Luke chimes in. "You haven't eaten since breakfast."

"But I'm not hungry," I pout and the young man jumps in offering a compromise.

"Tell you what. I'll leave the plate and have it picked up in the morning," Brandon says rolling the nearby standing tray over my bed and placing the covered plate on top.

"Perfect, thank you," Luke says and Brandon disappears out the door with his empty cart.

"Well, I'm finished too," Nurse Fordham announces as she charts my vitals. "Everything looks good," she continues as she looks away from her documentation. "Your blood pressure is a little high, but nothing for us to worry about. We'll monitor it, so I'll be back later. And you young man," she snarls turning in the direction of Luke. "Stay out of her bed. It wasn't designed for two for a reason," she lectures before prancing out the room closing the door behind her.

"I guess she told me," Luke mocks as he gets up from his chair.

"Yes, she did," I giggle.

"So you want try to eat something?" Luke asks as he lifts the lid inspecting what's on the plate.

"It depends. What is it?"

"Hamburger, French fries, salad and looks like pudding for desert."

"No. I'm really not hungry."

"Baby, you need to eat. You're eating for two now," he stresses, and I sigh.

"Okay, you win. Give me some salad, a small piece of the hamburger and you can have the rest."

His comment, eating for two so stuck with me, I ate everything Luke put on my plate. It even changed my attitude; I was cordial to nurse Ratchet I mean Fordham when she came back, but now I'm restless. My phone beeps and I quickly pick it up as not to wake Luke, who fell asleep long ago. He's in a chair that the nurse claims is conducive to sleeping but it doesn't look very ergonomic to me. Checking the phone, I see it's one of those annoying alerts, and I almost toss it until an inspiration hits. I'll Google being pregnant and what to expect. Well it wasn't such a good idea after all, I'm thoroughly frighten by everything I've seen and read so I decide to go to sleep.

**Next Morning**

"Good morning," a spitfire in a white lab coat says entering my room with a flourish and I roll my eyes at her cheeriness. "I'm Dr. Regina Winston," she announces as she strolls further into the room. Oblivious to my eye roll she shakes my hand. Her personality reminds me of a spunky cheerleader instead of a stodgy Dr.

"Good morning," Luke and I say in unison as we assess the force of nature that just blew into the room.

"So we're doing a Sonogram today?" she says if she's offering up cupcakes.

"Yes," I squeak.

"Okay, why don't you get ready while I set the machine up," she mutters walking to a piece of equipment that was recently delivered to my room.

Unsure of what I should be doing to get ready, I glance up at Luke and he gives my shoulders a reassuring squeeze for moral support. "Calm down, you'll be fine," he whispers kissing me on the top of my head.

"Okay, Ms. Steele," Dr. Winston says moving the cumbersome machine to my bedside.

"Ana. You can call me Ana," I say correcting her.

"Ana it is then." She smiles and loads some goop on my stomach. It's cold like she'd warned me, but I suck it up anxious to get on with it. As she runs the wand over my stomach, Dr. Winston yelps in excitements when something resembling a Rorschach test appears on the screen. "Ana, meet your baby," she murmurs and I lean forward to get a closer look. Luke, who's, pretty much attached to my back moves with me.

"Is that it?" I whisper.

"Yes it is," she smiles and I put my hands over my mouth to contain my joy. I'm overwhelmed by the sight, and the water starts falling. But for a change these are happy tears. Stretching my arm I try to touch the screen with my fingers, but they won't reach.

Dr. Winston chuckles." Don't worry I'll print you a copy, and you can touch it as much as you like," she says.

"Okay," I nod and Luke's fingers dig into my shoulders as he hovers over my back trying to get closer to the screen, as well.

"That's most beautiful blob I've ever seen," he murmurs, as he tugs on my shoulder, and I lean back laying my head on his chest.

"So Ana, from what I can tell on the monitor, I'm going to say you're at least 8 to 10 weeks." Luke's whole body sags against mine, and I can almost feel the oxygen being sucked out of the room. His worse fears have been confirmed; as well as mine, he's been eliminated as the father seeing that we've only started having sex about four weeks ago. Angling my head my back, I try to get a peek at him as I reach a hand behind me laying it on his.

Leaning forwards he whispers so only I can hear, "I'm fine," and he massages my shoulders for confirmation." This moment is about you and the baby. I don't want to take away from it," he says, and I lean into him even more.

"So ready to hear the heartbeat?" The Dr. asks interrupting our moment.

"Yes," I say swallowing hard.

She turns up the volume and starts moving the wand over my stomach again until there's a telltale whooshing sound, and I let out an audible gasp.

"Your baby's heartbeat," she gushes.

Still clinging to Luke I can't help but sob out loud, and to my surprise he does the same. And I don't know what touches my heart more, the sound of my baby's heart beating on the monitor or the man I love quietly sobbing above me. "That's my baby," I say in a strangled voice ignorant to my insensitive use of the possessive pronoun until I feel Luke's body stiffen. "I'm sorry," I whisper.

"Don't be," he mumbles and he gives me a light kiss on the top of my head. "I love you," he professes.

"Okay, I'm finished up here," Dr. Winston says cleaning my stomach and the wand. "Ana, I understand you have some questions for me," she says setting the wand on the bulky equipment.

"I've had at least two periods since this baby was conceived so is that normal?"

"More normal that you think, but we don't call it a period. It's more like spotting, that can be mistaken for a period if there's no reason to believe there is a pregnancy."

"I see. What about the birth control pills up? Up until last night, I'd been taking them."

"I don't see foresee any long-term problems for your baby," she says. "Anything else?"

"Luke, can you give us a moment?" I ask and he releases my shoulders peeling his knees from the bed as he stands.

"Okay, I'll get some coffee," he says and I wait for him to clear the door.

"I like running. So I wanted to know can I jog while I'm pregnant."

"Definitely. These days it's advocated if it's your exercise of choice. Some women run up until their due to date," she says, and she gives me a knowing smile. "What do you want to ask me, Ana? You didn't ask the young man to give us privacy to discuss running," she smirks.

"Sex," I blurt out. "Is it normal to crave it? I was read something online, but it wasn't clear," I say shyly looking down at my hands that are wounding around each other.

"Based on the anecdotal feedback I've gotten from my patients, I'm going to say yes. And coincidentally the research backs it up, a woman's libido increases during pregnancy. And, by the way, your cheeks are warming, I'd suspect this isn't news for you," she chuckles

"No comment," I giggle.

"Don't be embarrassed Ana, you're part of a young couple. It's expected that you'd have an active sex life, and pregnancy will only enhance it," she says matter of factly.

"That may be true, but up until eight weeks ago, I'd never had sex before," I say dryly.

"I see, so you got pregnant your first time," she smiles and it confuses me. I don't find the admission to be amusing. "Trust me it's more prevalent than you may think," she says offering some clarification after reading my facial expression.

"Great. Therein lies my problem, I'm just a cliché. I hate meeting people's minimum expectations," I sigh. "But I did all the right things. I took birth control pills."

"Look, Ana, I don't know you. All I have to go on are some words and numbers on a chart, but you appear to be a smart and capable young woman to me. You did all the right things, but these things happen. A lot of couples believe that the pill is 100% successful. It's a misnomer because no contraception can make that claim. The only thing that can guard against unplanned pregnancy is abstinence," she preaches.

"I can't agree more," I say out loud, but inward I lecture myself for letting a gorgeous gray-eyed hunk cause me to veer from the abstinence path. "Changing gears a bit. Should I be concerned about my concussion?"

"No, you were not out that long, and it doesn't appear that your brain or body was deprived of oxygen, so I don't foresee any long-term consequences for you or the baby."

"Finally, my mood has been all over the place. Plus I've been more lethargic than normal, so I'm wondering if being pregnant has anything to do with it."

"Everything to do with it. Your hormones will be all over the place. You will go from crying to laughing in a nanosecond so get used to it. And I'd suspect your iron is low which explains the tiredness but prenatal vitamins should remedy that. But if it doesn't, I advise seeing your physician and if you don't have one I could write you a referral," she says

"I'll need a referral, please."

"Ok, along with the referrals, I'll give you a prescription for prenatal vitamins," she says rising from the bed in preparation to leave. "Dr. Cohen will be here in about an hour to give you a final checkup before releasing you," she informs me. On her way out she congratulates Luke, who's made his way back to the room.

"Do you know what you're signing up for?" I ask pushing the linen back to get out of the bed to stretch my legs.

"A lifetime of happiness," he quickly responds.

"Yeah right," I snort. "Here's what I think," I say and he sighs running a hand over his face.

"When you start a sentence that way it never ends well for me," he laments and I roll my eyes at him as I take up position in front of the window.

"I think you see this as a means to make amends for what happened with Alison," I say. "It always leads back to her." It was supposed to be my inner musing, but I vent out loud.

"Or your ex," he quips.

"Touché. Our Exes always manage to infiltrate our relationship," I mumble.

"I agree, but for better or worse, at least there's a name and face associated with my Ex. Yours is a mythical creature lurking in shadows destined to strike at any time. And where I once thought I saw love, is looking more and more like fear," he says hitting too close to home for my liking. Walking up to the window to join me, Luke grabs me by the shoulders, forcing me to face him. "You're afraid of him aren't you," he questions. I stay silent, and he pins me with a glare, but I give up nothing.

"Stay out of it Luke," I warn, shrugging his hands off my shoulders escaping his interrogation.

"How can I? The stakes are too high. And yes, maybe you're right. I'm seeking penance or redemption or an equal dose of both. You are my chance at redemption and penance, but that doesn't mean I don't love you or the baby. And as much as you don't want to admit it, your situation is eerily similar to Alison's." I let out a sigh of exasperation.

"Not that old chestnut again," I snip. "I've conceded enough in the similarities departments to that woman. Our situations are nothing like," I yell walking towards the bed putting even more distance between us.

"Excuse me? Didn't someone hurt her? Wasn't she afraid?" He outlines his flimsy arguments filling me with more rage.

"You've gone a step too far. Don't you dare," I seethe? "I was not raped. My child is not the product of a rape," I heave as a sob catches in my throat. "My baby was conceived out of love," I cry. "He might not have loved me, but I loved him," I shout, and Luke yanks me by my forearms pulling me to his hard chest.

"Ssh," he coos as he runs his hand over my head down the length of my hair. "I'm sorry. You're right," he says. "Your baby is loved, and so are you," he says wrapping his arms around my nape pulling my head tighter to his chest and he leans down giving me a kiss on the crown.

A knock on the door interrupts us, and Dr. Cohen is standing waiting to come in.

After checking me out, Dr. Cohen gives me, my release papers. "Ready to blow this Popsicle stand?" Luke jokes.

"Yep, give me five," I say holding up my hand.

The Hampton's now in our rearview, the closer the mile markers show that we're to Boston the reality of my predicament sets in. And out of a newfound habit, I rest my hand on my stomach.

"Are you okay?" Luke asks as he shoots me a glance before returning his eyes to the road.

"I'm fine," I say tersely.

"Ana, you're not fine. You haven't' said a word since talking to your friends and your grabbing your stomach. So I'm just making sure you're not sick."

"I'm silent because I need it to be still. It feels like I've done nothing but talked. And after my calls with Kate and Lulu I'm talked out."

"How ironic, a few days ago your knock on me was the lack of talking," he says.

"Can we not do this now, please?"

"Baby I'm not trying to fight. Communication is going to be key. We're both under a lot of stress" he contends.

"I agree, but just not now," I whine.

"Well before you tune me out, I have a question or observation I guess. From what I could hear, it sounds like your friends are not happy."

"Do you blame them?" I retort.

"I do blame them. After your initial shock, you've come around to see this baby as a gift. Your reaction to hearing his heartbeat for the first time was priceless so don't try to downplay your happiness."

"Luke, my emotions are all over the place. Of course, I'm happy about the new life growing in me, but I'm also wary of the circumstance. It's complicated with many layers like an onion and just as tear worthy."

"I wish you would stop talking in fucking riddles and give it to me straight," he says slamming a hand on the steering wheel.

"Not now," I say only irritating him more and I reach over to turn the jeep's radio off before resting the side of my head against the window.

"I'm not going to win so before you zone out; I want to let you know I'll stop by the Walgreen's near the apartment for you to fill your prescriptions.

"I'm staying at my place tonight since Kate is coming in tomorrow."

"Okaaay," he scoffs and we're quiet the remainder of the ride.

"Where do you want me to put your bags?" Luke asks.

"At the end of my bed," I instruct.

"Just say yes," he says out of nowhere. "I will walk away from my job today and move anywhere in the world you want. I will even stay home with the baby while you continue your schooling because I know you won't want a nanny." He's sincere and he walks up to me so I can see the sincerity in his eyes.

"If only it were that simple," I sigh.

"But it can be," he pleads.

"I know you hate the riddles, but it's all the insight I can offer you right now and I know you don't believe it, but I'm doing this for you too. Keeping you as far away from this mess as possible," I murmur.

"So you are afraid of him?" he repeats.

"Not physically," I whisper.

"In the military I learned that psychological fear can be the worst kind," he says gently running his finger along my injured lip. "Please don't let history repeat itself, I don't think I could survive losing you." He pauses zoning in on my midsection. "Or the baby," he says softly and I put my hand on his wrist pulling it away from my face before walking across the room.

"Luke, I'm sorry. Your positive, flowery words won't solve this problem. Unfortunately, it's something I'm going to have to do on my own. This truly is my battle."

"We're a couple that makes it my battle too. You can't keep me out of the mess as you call it. I'm already smack dab in the middle."

"No. My baby. My battle." I'm intentionally showing ownership this time to drive home a point. He frowns and walks toward the door.

"I see where this is headed so I'm going to leave. I don't want us to say something we can never take back," he says putting his hand on the door knob, but stopping short of opening it. "Your raging hormones may provide an explanation for erratic mood swings, but it's not a pass for you to be hurtful. I'm very aware that I'm not the father. But because I love you so completely, I already love this baby as if I were." He's sincere and it breaks my heart that I'm unable to show him the same consideration. Luke exits, leaving me to myself inflicted misery.

Self-inflicted, because I wouldn't be in this situation if I'd kept my legs closed and if I would just be honest with him. "Little one if I don't get my hormones in check, I'm going to lose the man who wants to be your father more than anything. However, right now I have a bigger hurdle to clear like how to get out of the stupid contract with the man who is your father. So I can have the right to be your mom," I say to my stomach.

Then I set out on a search for my phone. I need to send Kate a text reminding her to keep her mouth closed. I can't have Christian finding out about the baby until I have a plan in place. And I want to let her know that my room door will be open, and she can just walk in.

**The Next morning**

"Steele," I hear and I burrow into my covers because I think I'm dreaming until I feel a hand nudging my shoulders.

"Kate," I yelp when I shift and see her smiling down at me. I throw my arms around her neck and we hug like we've not seen each other for years instead of a month.

"Hey sweetie," she coos swaying me from side to side in her bear hug. "I'm sorry I woke you," she says.

"Please. My best friend is here," I whimper.

"Of course I'm here. Sorry, I can't stay longer. I can't miss my exam tomorrow," she says apologetically.

"Kate don't apologize. You've gone above and beyond coming here at the drop of a hat."

"You didn't think I would let you go through this alone. You're my girl" she smiles pushing the hairs off my face. "I imagine you've told Lulu, what did she have to say?"

"You know Lulu," I say shifting against the headboard. "Luckily I was able to reach her. Of course, she's a woman of little words, but she used all of them on me. Let's just say she was not happy and used some choice words for Christian."

"So she knows who Christian is?" Kate ask befuddled.

"No. You are one of only a hand full of people who knows about us and it's best that way," I say this omitting the fact that he has threatened me all but guaranteeing his anonymity.

"I can see that. Hey, I'm sorry for Lulu's response I know how important it is for you to have her approval." Despite her misgivings regarding Lulu, Kate's sincere in her sentiment.

"Yeah," I sigh. "You'll find this funny. She wants me to sue the father for child support." We both burst into laughter before I can even complete the sentence.

"Oh, yeah I can see the Christian Grey in family court" she chortles.

"Oh, Kate it feels so good to laugh," I snicker.

"I bet. By the blotchy skin and puffy eyes, I can tell crying hasn't been a challenge though," she says changing her tone as she cups my face.

"Sad but true," I sigh resting my hands on her wrists. "Give me a minute to get dress and we can go to the cafeteria for breakfast," I say and Kate releases my face.

"Okay, it'll give me a chance to check up on my emails." And she inspects the small room. "So where's your roommate?"

"Hanging with her new girlfriend."

"Girlfriend or Lover?" She questions.

"Lover," I clarify.

"So, did you have a walk on the wild side?" she asks arching her brows.

"Kate," I shriek. "No." And I toss my hair tie at her.

"Just asking," she chuckles. "Seriously, too bad she's not here. I was hoping to meet her along with your other buddies," she says.

"Sorry to disappoint, none of them is around. Ian is still on his camping trip and I'm not sure where Jazz is," I say grabbing my stuff to head to the bathroom.

"That was quick," Kate says when I walk back into the room about 10 minutes later.

"What did you expect? Nothing has changed," I smirk.

"I see," she says spinning around in the desk chair like a little kid. "So Steele, how does Luke feel about this? We haven't had a chance to discuss him and will I meet him?"

"Alas, he's out of town too, which is for the best because we had a disagreement. So we can use the time apart. But all in all, he's been very supportive, just disappointed that the baby isn't his. He wants to step up and make us an instant family," I say nonchalantly.

"Wait. Ana, you can't just say something like that and let it drop. Did he ask you to marry him?" From her body language, I can tell that Kate is torn between being excited and alarmed.

"Slow your wagon, he didn't ask me to marry him but he's made it clear that he wants to be part of our lives long term. But come on Kate, you know Christian Grey does that sound like a good idea?"

"It depends on what your expectations are of Christian."

"I don't have much of expectations when it comes to him. I just know he's a brash personality that I don't want to impose on anyone, especially Luke. This is Christian's child and I'd be forever tied to him."

"So you do have an expectation of co-parenting with Christian?"

"No. More like wishful thinking. By the way, you haven't mentioned this to Elliot?"

"No, Ana I have not. But, when are you planning to tell Christian? I mean I can only stay quiet for so long and eventually you're going to start showing."

"I don't know. It has weighed heavily on me since learning about the baby. Would you consider me to be a bad person if I didn't tell him?"

"Whoa," she sighs. "Hold up Steele. You're treading on dangerous territory here. I need to hear more before I can render a judgment."

"Think about it. He doesn't have to know that I'm pregnant. He never sees me anyway. So theoretically I could simply ride off into the sunset with Luke."

"Simple yes, but you're forgetting the wild card in this scenario," she contorts her face tilting her head at me and I give her a puzzled look. "You." She points out. "Ana this is not you. Sure you've made some questionable decisions of late. But at your core, you're still that half full, nerd, who believes in fairy tales and their happily ever after. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself, keeping Christian away from his child. As much as I think, he's a douchebag for what he has done to you he deserves to know about his child," she says as she ponders her next thought. "Take you and Christian out of the equation there's another person to consider. The baby. You'd be denying him his father, and all the benefits that come along with being the heir of one Christian Grey. But just as important, you'd be depriving him of the other members of his extended family. His grandparents, aunt, and uncle. Do you truly want to deny Grace, her grandchild?" Kate makes some valid points, some I didn't consider, but she's basing her argument on insufficient facts. I wonder if she would feel the same way if she knew of the threats, the demands, and the contract. In reality, I'm the one at risk of losing everything she just mentioned. But she's right, with good conscious I could never take the baby and run. Making a worse situation dire.

"You're right. I hate it when you make sense," I pout.

"No, you don't you love me," she teases. "So what are the chances of you and Christian making a go of it once he finds out?"

"Seriously?" I lift my brows at her. "I'm taking back every positive thing I just said about you. Think about it, the last time I talked to him you found me in a heap on the floor. That's all I'm going to say," I say scoffing at the idea.

"Oh yeah." She has a pitying expression on her face. "Sorry. Come on let's take a break. Get some breakfast and you can show me around your Ivy League campus," she says mockingly.

"Is that all you're having…" I put my hand up interrupting her.

"Don't say it. If I hear you're eating for two one more time, I'm going to poke my eyes out."

"Huh," she sighs. "That's not what I was going to say. I was going to ask about the bacon and pancake." She lies, but I don't push her on it.

"Oh, have I told you about pregnancy hormones," I whisper shrugging my shoulders.

"No, but I've heard about them. So you better get them under control before coming back to Portland," she jokes pointing her knife at me. "Seriously though, how do you feel?"

"Funny, until I found out I was pregnant, I felt fine. Now I feel pregnant with all its side effects."

"Well, you don't look pregnant. I mean your attitude could use some adjustment but other than that you look like yourself. But better. Your body is still fierce with some perfect enhancements," she says her eyes go directly to my breasts.

"Yeah, I'm lucky. The Dr. says I won't start showing until the third trimester or something."

"How's the lip? It's a pretty nasty bruise."

"It looks angrier than it feels. Believe it or not this is good."

"You've had trying few days,"

"Tell me about it, but in hindsight it's been a blessing. If it weren't for the trip to the hospital, I wouldn't have found out about the baby subjecting us to further risk," I say before my phone beeps.

"Mr. Luke I'm guessing from that stupid smile on your face?" Kate smirks.

"Yes," I sniffle. "He just text me a picture of the sonogram with the caption. The 2nd love of my life." I say holding up the phone to show Kate the message while resting the other hand on my chest.

"Aha, that's sweet. Since I won't meet him do you have a picture at least?" she asks, and I pull the phone back pulling up a picture we took a few days ago.

"Here." And I shove the phone across the table.

"Holy shit, Ana he's fine. And again I say where are these security guys coming from? First Christian and his hunks and now this one," she sighs. "Damn Ana, after Christian Grey this is what you end up with. If this is what a rebound is looking like these days, I want one," she says fanning herself.

"Let me have my phone back," I giggle reaching across the table.

"I recant my earlier advice. Run away with Luke. Who needs a conscious when you've got that in you?" She shakes her head. "No wonder you've been touting the joys of sex."

"Too late," I say, "And for your information, it's the pregnancy that has increased my libido," I say sticking my tongue out at her. So I'm not a freak after all, I keep that tidbit to myself though.

"So let's see. He's hot, and so is Christian. But he's sweet, the anti-Christian Grey," she chuckles making a simplistic comparison between Luke and Christian.

"He is and he puts up with my craziness. Who knew I was pregnant when I met him," I say eating my toast.

"Look on the positive side, he's seen the worse and he still loves you."

"Yes he does," I smile.

Kate puts down her silverware and takes me in for a moment. "This is very dickensesque, the worst of times and best of times for you. Sure this pregnancy is a tough pill to swallow, but it's clear to see that you're in love. What does it feel like?"

"Oh, Kate. I can't explain, I'm just starting to accept it myself. Ironic that I'm finally coming to terms with how much I love him when I'm most at risk of losing him."

"Maybe this is what you two needed to stop with useless bickering and appreciate what you have. I know I will stop badgering you about him and once Lulu sees how happy he makes you so will she," Kate says laying her hand on the table for me to take.

"Geez Kate, you're on a roll," I tease.

"Speaking of a roll, are you going to eat the rest of yours?" I just grasp her hand and shake my head at my best friend. She likes to pretend to be tough, but she's the best friend a girl can have.

Kate and I finish the last of our breakfast, and I take her for a short tour of the campus before making our way back to the room.

"So do you want to freshen up?" I ask as I unlock the door.

"What I really want is a nap," she says rushing past me to my bed falling backward on it. "But I'll freshen up first." And just as quickly she bolts upright.

While Kate's napping, I text with Luke. He delayed his departure Seattle to stay with me, but he had to go to New York to meet with his dad. And I have a sneaking suspicion it has something to do with Jack, even though he isn't saying. I'm not complaining, the timing is impeccable seeing that I need time to work out another plan since Kate has poo-pooed my original.

"Ana," Kate calls when she awakes

"Yes."

"What are you doing?" she asks groggily.

"Just thinking."

"Steele, I know this is crappy timing, but you're going to make a fabulous mother and me an amazing godmother."

"Yes, Kate you'll be godmother," I chuckle. "So you can stop dropping hints."

"Won't Lulu have something to say about that?"

"Nope, she's not exactly the godmother type."

"I know this, but I'm glad you see it."

"I love Lulu, but I want my child to have someone stable in her life," I say.

"So you're hoping for a girl?"

"Not really, I just want a happy, healthy baby. I only used the feminine pronoun because you've been saying him all day," I smile. "I'm an equal opportunity mother to be."

"You're putting on a brave front, but I know you're scared. Going another around with Christian Grey can't be a fun prospect, but this time will be different. You're carrying his baby, and that has to count for something," she says, and I want to say yes complete annihilation of me, but I don't.

"One would hope, "I simply respond.

"Come here sit on the bed with me like old times," she says patting the spot next to her. "You know everything is going to be alright." And as soon as I hit the spot I collapse on Kate's chest.

"That's what I'm going have to believe," I say. "If you have any information on Christian now would be a good time to share so I know what I'm walking into."

"There's not much to share. Eliott has been pretty tight-lipped about his brother of late. I think it's out of courtesy for my relationship with you. But I do know he's no longer seeing that model you called me about, but other than that I have nothing. But knowing Christian Grey, I doubt he's home moping, he's just more secretive," she says.

"I agree."

"I do know Grace has been asking about you?"

"Oh. I'll call her when I get home," I sigh. "Kate," I whisper.

"Yes."

"Can I just lay here for a moment," I say in a strangled voice.

"You can lay here as long as you want," she cries as she rubs the back of my head.

"Thank you," I say and my shoulders start trembling as the enormity of what's ahead of me begins to sink in. The thought of losing a baby that 48 hours ago, I knew nothing about is terrifying, because his baby already means the world to me. Claiming that space in my heart, Benji vacated.

"Oh Steele I wish I could do something," she whimpers and she lays her head on mine.

"Kate you've done it. You flew across the country to be with me that's more than enough," I sob.

"You're the sister I've never had so I had to be here."

"This is not my life," I whine.

"Not the one you imagined, but the one you have and you can make it just as amazing." she says and I can't help but laugh.

"Who are you and what have you done with my friend?" I say lifting my head to look at her.

"I was visited by karma on the flight," she jokes.

**Next Morning**

The alarm on my phone wakes me, and I fumble at picking it up. After Kate had left, I forced myself to go to sleep, being awake meant facing an insurmountable task and I needed a break from the thinking. I wrestle myself out of bed to immediately go to the bathroom so I can get out of the clothes I slept in and halfway to the door; I swivel to get some new ones.

As soon as the warm water hits my body, it feels like heaven. Like all my sins are being washed away, and finally I get the clarity I've been seeking. Instead of washing I just stand under the stream of water and let it cascade over my body as I run through my plan. I'll call Christian when I return to Portland only to inform him of the pregnancy reiterating that I want and expect nothing from him. I will approach this under the assumption that the contract was a ploy, and he was never serious about enforcing it.

It's the positive spin I have to utilize. Otherwise, I'll make myself sick thinking of the alternative. I can't lose my baby. I'm too in love already.

In the end keeping this baby, will mean sacrificing my relationship with Luke. Living up to the Alison comparison after all. But it's a cross I'm willing to bare if it entails doing what's best for my child. I'd do what mother refused to do for me, put my child's need above a man. I strongly believe that Christian's genes are so dominant any child of his would be easily recognizable so I'd have to disappear. Go abroad to keep his secret.

I imagine a girl or boy name Addison, Addie for short if it's a girl. The boy would have wavy hair with a hint of copper like him with too intense gray eyes for a child his age. Little Addie, would have my brown hair, but shinier and his eyes and well-defined cheekbones. They'd inherit my smarts and heart seeing that their father doesn't have one. However, all other positive personality traits they would get from him. Yes, I'd have to disappear leave Kate, Lulu, and Ray, who I've begun to develop a true father-daughter relationship. Sadly it's necessary if I'm to keep the child that I've grown so attached. It's my only bargaining chip if I'm to believe that Christian was serious with his threat. And I'm not convinced that he was serious. That would make him a monster, and I'm not ready to completely abandon my idea of him. So I'll have to approach him from a place of positivity. A plan in place I feel more settled. I shut the water off, before I turn into a prune.

Wrapping a towel around my head, I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror and the pesky bruise on my lip catches my attention. Though the sting of the bite has long subsided, and the swelling has gone down some it still looks nasty. Grabbing the ointment from the medicine cabinet, I apply it to my lip. With any luck, it'll be gone in a few days, so I don't have to sport the evidence of my attack for all to see.

Slipping into my lounge outfit, I'm more prepared to face the day than I have been since learning of my pregnancy. So I open my bathroom door, with the framework of a plan playing out in my head readying myself to flesh it out.

Lurching forward, I'm startled by what I see. "Aha!" I gasp resting a hand on my chest over my heart to keep it from leaping out of my body. Christian is sitting on one of the humble desk chairs looking very smug. "Christian," I say breathily trying to regulate my breathing and his lips are in a firm line, as his icy stare impede my movement. So I quickly correct my mistake.

"Mr. Grey," I say.


	19. Chapter 19: You found me

Chapter 19: You found me

FSOG belongs to EL James

**A/N: **Thank you for reading, following and enjoying- enjoy

_Crap!_

_He's in here._

This is so not how I'd orchestrated the morning playing out when I was in the shower. I'm not yet prepared to do this- have this dance with Lucifer. Bad karma has gone a rye, and I have a nagging suspicion that I'm paying for the sins of my mother. It's the only thing that explains my rash of bad luck. And as if my luck can't get any worse, the devil is clad in a well-tailored suit and is as tempting as the sin I'm paying for. Christian is gorgeous.

He is sans tie, which is fitting for the extremely casual setting of my dorm room and his crisp white shirt which he has undone at the neck adds to his allure. If I glint my eyes just right I can get a glimpse of the whispers of hair threatening to peek through the opening. Speaking of hair, I want to leap at him and run my fingers through his perfectly messy locks. Aware of the effect he's having on me, Christian sets the paper he's holding on the desk and makes a meal out of removing his suit jacket where he deftly hangs it on the back of the chair when he comes to his feet. Picking up the paper he'd just discarded, Christian starts towards me. And I'd be damn if his slacks aren't hitting his hips in that way that makes every nerve ending tingle. It is not fair nor is it normal that I would have these thoughts considering what he's done to me in the past and what he's probably going to do to me today.

As he approaches, time slows to a sickening crawl. So I focus on my breathing as not to have a repeat of my panic attack. Taking slow even breaths, I shift my feet from side to side to center myself as I wait for him to enter my zone. Damn, damn, damn his scent is as intoxicating as I remember. How am I going to get through this when the man is a walking aphrodisiac?

I close my eyes to conjure up all his evils so I can ready myself for battle instead of a roll in the hay. And it works. The 0.9 seconds it takes for him to reach me I've recounted the scenes of me alone in his bedroom after our first night together ending with me in the heap on my apartment floor. I am fighting mad. No longer enthralled by the beautiful package about to invade my space. I'm Eve in the Garden and he's the serpent tempting me to take a bite of the forbidden fruit.

When I open my eyes again, Christian is inches away from my face. Without saying a word, he reaches up skillfully undoing the towel on my head and I set my mouth in a ball as I flick my eyes up at him.

"Too distracting," he purrs speaking the first words since I uttered his name. Stepping back he inspects his handy work as the towel falls to the floor unfurling my wet hair down my back with it. "When were you going to tell me?" Christian booms thrusting the paper he'd been clutching to my chest forcing me to grab at it as he stomps back to the front of my small room.

Holding it up to the light, I recognize it as the sonogram.

So it begins.

He knows.

"Christian, I only just found out," I say emphatically.

"Mr. fucking Grey Anastasia," he yells making me flinch. "Let's at least stick to the fucking ground rules. You'd lost the right to call me Christian when you lied to me. So it's Mr. Grey ," he snarls.

I close my eyes, breath in deeply and take another stab it. "Mr. Grey." I choke on the name, but I get it out. "As I was saying. I'd just learned that I was pregnant. I've hardly had a chance to wrap my head around the news less more inform you. So there's been no attempt to keep this from you." I speak slowly to keep from stuttering, because I'm still shaky from finding him in here.

"A convenient excuse, wouldn't you say?

"It's not an excuse it's the truth," I murmur.

Running his hand over his face in exasperation, Christian paces the floor. Stopping on a dime he glowers at me. "What a fucking mess. You've fucked everything up Anastasia," he snarls as he resumes pacing. "The one thing I stressed I did not want to happen and you assured me would never happen." He stops and wags a finger at me. "Has happened. A fucking baby Anastasia," he seethes and his lips are in a thin line.

"You have to know this was not planned. Trust me it has come as a surprise to me too," I say adamantly and Christian howls with laughter.

"And why in the hell should I believe you? When you've done nothing but lie to me the moment you reentered my life. I can't believe I let you trick me into fucking you in the first place," he snarls chastising himself at the same time throwing shade at me. In frustration, he sends supplies from my desk crashing to the floor. Resting his hands on his waist Christian gives me a calculating look. "I'll own that, but the rest of this is on you Anastasia," he barks.

I've not moved from my spot; fear, anger, and sadness you name it. A plethora of emotions is keeping me in place, as Christian methodically pulls back scabs that have formed over wounds he left behind. The first cut is the deepest they say, but apparently it never heals either. Clutching the picture of our baby, I try to summon the strength I will need to protect him or her. For this child, I will endure any indignity he throws at me if it means that I can I keep her. I will apologize. I will ask for his forgiveness. I will even beg. When it comes to my baby, I will release all shame. I'm determined to be the mother to this child, my mother was not to me. I will love, protect and sacrifice everything I have for his or her welfare. Even if that means falling at the mercy of Christian. So if I have to call him, Mr. Grey so be it. Kiss his very expensive shoes, I will. All previous plans are out the window, it's just me and him. I'll have to adapt. I'll humble myself before him all but ensuring that I won't come away unscathed, but the wounds will be worth it if I come away with my maternal rights intact.

Shoving pain and pride to the side, I move. Slowing I trek to the front of the room to join Christian.

"Mr. Grey. I'm sorry," I sigh to keep the bile down. "I'm sorry for lying to you. Putting you and your company in peril, for my own selfish needs. I'm sorry for," I pause biting back the tears. "For seducing you," I say in a strangled voice and I have to turn my back to him so he won't see me crying.

Christian's thunderous applause echoes in the room getting my attention. "Good show Ms. Steele. You're quite the actress. But here's the thing I'm no longer swayed by your crocodile tears. Nor am I susceptible to your manipulation. My patience is thin and my time too valuable for your flare for the dramatics so let's just get down to it," he berates as he reaches inside his jacket but is interrupted by the loud sound of my phone.

The sound of the waves hitting the Hampton shoreline fills my heart as my phone goes wild with a call from Luke. His new ringtone is fitting because the water is soothing reminding me that he's my beacon of hope in this moment of darkness. And I instantly feel guilty for the amorous feelings I had towards Christian earlier.

"That fucking phone has been going off all morning," he bellows with his dark, arrogant look darting around my room. "I can smash it," he laments and I rush to find it to silence it before it angers him even more.

Silencing the phone, I spin to face him needing the answer to questions that have been haunting me since finding him lurking in my room. "How did you get in here Christian? How did you find out about the baby? Why are you here? I ask all my questions in succession in case I lose my nerve.

"Really, Anastasia?" Is his smug response.

"Yeah. Really," I retort as I stroll up to him and I can't explain the sudden burst of courage. "A little tip," I say coyly when I'm in front of him and I have to resist motioning to him with my index finger. That would be taking my waning courage a step too far. So I'm relieved when I notice Christian's lips twitching with amusement. "It's stalker-ish," I warn, but my tone is both more coquettish than I intended and less menacing than I intended. But I made my point and to put a punctuation on it I walk past him intentionally grazing his shoulder.

"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind," he says with wry amusement when I meet his heated gaze. "In the meantime let's have the conversation we need to have,"" he says perching himself on the edge of my desk and crossing his arms over his chest. "I warned you not to fuck with me," he hisses crossing one ankle over the other. "You can never hind from me. I have the means and ways to find out anything I want about you whenever I want," he says arrogantly crossing and uncrossing his ankles. "So it would serve you well to remember that," he urges as he pushes off the desk.

"Do you get off yelling at me? Threatening me? Denigrating me? Does it make you feel superior? At the end of the day, I didn't make this baby alone. So you best remember that" I smirk. I strike while the last vestige of my courage is still present. "I've accepted my role, but you share just as much responsibility in making this baby as I do. If you were so concerned about a baby, you should've used a condom." I say remembering Dr. Winston's lecture putting my twist on it. But this also means I've trampled over my mantra of being humble.

"Fuck you," he booms when he walks up to me spraying me with his saliva. "Okay, you want to play fucking hardball let's do it. Let's review the contract you signed." He dutifully points out as he turns on his heel to go to the chair holding his Jacket.

"Christian please," I sob forgetting and not caring that I just broke a cardinal rule. "Don't do this. Don't expect me to honor that silly contract. I signed it because I didn't think a pregnancy was possible because I was on birth control. But let's face it I was under duress. Please don't do this," I cry. My bravery has abandoned me.

"Tell me Anastasia. What am I supposed do, let you raise my fucking child? That would make your day, wouldn't it? It would give you clout having Christian Grey's love child. This is no more a love child than it is a love story so get the romantic notions out of your head. I can never let any child endure what I went through as a kid less more one that has my blood running through its vein. I will not let this child be raised by a single teenage mother as I was," he says and for the first time his voice falters.

"I'm not your mother," I say quietly and he stills.

Casually he strolls up to me as if we're not engaged in a verbal smack down and he takes my chin between his two fingers. "What happened to your lip?" he asks going completely off topic. For a moment, he's caring and gentle. Unsure of how to answer I stay mum. Lightly he rubs the pad of his thumb over the bruise and my lips part. "Let me ask you one more time. What happened to your lip Anastasia?" In a hush tone he asks more forcibly letting his fingers linger at my chin. And for a moment the curtain lifts revealing the Christian I've dreamed about and short of swooning I start singing like a canary.

"I was attacked from behind and I fell," I babble so spellbound by his touch. Pain and confusion on his face, he releases my chin.

"Aside from your lip were you hurt?" he asks sincerely. I'm thankful for this respite even if it's on a topic that makes me uncomfortable. I don't want to reveal anything about Luke, making him a target of Christian's fury. Compelling him to invade his privacy with the same ease of which he does mine. But I'm hoping going forward the tenor of our discussion moves away from the visceral anger and resentment to a place of understanding and compromise.

"I hit my head, but I'm fine. Believe it or not I feel fortunate. It's how I found out I was my pregnant. So see I wasn't lying," I whisper and when our eyes lock caring Christian is gone.

"When you return to Portland, I will set you up with a Dr. Once I'm confirmed to be the father, everything outlined in the contract will kick into place. In case you don't have a copy, I brought one for you. It's in my jacket."

"Please. Please. Please," I bawl, unable to form a sentence. But this one word best demonstrates my anguish and desperation.

"Please what Anastasia? Please let you fuck this child's head up. Please let this child suffer because of your frailties. Please let this child rot in some hell hole?" Christian lists a host of heartbreaking scenarios and they bare an eerie similarity to his upbringing. And my heart aches for the little boy that grew up in that setting.

"Do you hear yourself? You're passing your demons to an unborn child. It's not fair to him or her or to me. Let me repeat I'm not your mother and this baby is not you. The circumstances are different. Yes, I'm a teenager, but that's where the similarities end. As you know, my childhood wasn't exactly rosy, which is why I would die before I let anything happen to this baby. I can promise you this child will never suffer any of the ills you and I endured as children. I'm better equip for caring for a baby than your mother. I will work and I can use the money you gave me."

"What money? You gave it back to me remember?" I threw the softball and he knocked it out of the park. Christian is taking great joy in reminding me that I gave the $5 million dollars back to him.

"Knowing you, I'm sure you're still have the check. Holding on to it, to use for a moment like this," I smirk." To be honest Christian, at the time it felt like blood money. But now that there's a baby, I can concede to taking it so you can feel comfortable in knowing that your offspring is not wanting for anything. Please note, it doesn't have to be 5 million that still a bit obscene so I will take anything you want to give me."

"Money," he roars with laughter. "It always comes back to the money. I guess you can be bought after all Ms. Steele. I always knew you had a price. In the end they all do." Christian has a malicious smile on his face.

"Fuck you, Christian," I shout back at him. My body shakes I take in his nasty words. He's hurled more abominable accusations at me, but being cast as the gold digger is still the role I loathe most.

Stoking my ire Christian responds to my fury with condescension; with loud patronizing claps he dismisses my emotions. Throwing his head back, Christian bellows with laughter further demonstrating his callousness.

Bringing his head forward, his lips curl into a wry smile. "Well, well look who can say fuck without stuttering," he mocks. "So I take it you're fucking one of these Harvard fuckers. Or two. Or three," he smirks. "How many Anastasia? The cat got your tongue?" he sniggers. "Or maybe it's tired from sucking too much dick," he says crudely and I let out an audible gasp. I want to bite my lip just to piss him off, but it's too sore. "I wasn't serious about a paternity test, but maybe I should rethink it. Make it a priority seeing that you've been whoring your way through Harvard," he spits out bitterly with the sole intention of humiliating me. He's finally weakened my resolve. The barrage of name calling and constant yelling has gutted me.

When he looks at me, my already puffy cheeks are damp, and my shoulders are sagging. I don't have any fight left. I put one foot in front of the other to escape his tireless arsenal of insults, but Christian grabs my arm halting me before I can make it to the sanctuary of my bathroom. "I pretty much fucked my way through this campus when I was here. So don't be fooled by these preppy assholes, you're just a number to them-"

I jerk my arm from his grasp interrupting him from his pseudo advice. "You can save it. Any warning coming from you is almost comical. Isn't that what I am to you," I snip and he has the audacity to look wounded.

"What do you want from me Mr. Grey," I say sarcastically. "You've done nothing but yell at me and call me names. It's clear you want to destroy me, but I don't understand why. I get that I did some horrible things, but nothing so egregious that I shouldn't be forgiven. But for some reason you won't forgive me my trespasses. So are you going to make me pay for my sins with losing my child? Think about it Christian? You're asking me to give up my baby and walk away forever. Does that sound rational to you? You're a smart man. Your anger at me is clouding your judgement. So let's stop yelling past each other and start talking to each other like two sensible adults. There's a child at stake and as children we both suffered at the hands of mothers incapable of caring for us. So you don't have a patent on pain. I hurt too, I just choose not to take it out on other people or an innocent baby. Quite the opposite, I want to do better by our child. Give him the childhood we never had so the notion that I would do anything to harm this baby is ludicrous," I say trying to appeal to the humanity in him. And somewhere deep in me I find the resolve to bring his hand forward resting the palm on my stomach. "This is our child," I whisper. "A chance to get it right this time," I implore.

The cocky, conceited Christian is gone replaced with someone unfamiliar- he's lost. He stares at his hand on my belly as if it belongs to someone else. He's at war with his inner monster so I'll need to patient and gentle to coax the man out so good can win over evil.

"Anastasia, this will never work," he grunts and he pulls his hand back. "You're right I'm no better than they are, but I've never lied to you. Since that first night, I made it clear what I could offer. I have not changed. I am who I am. I'm not hearts and flowers, but you want to change me making me fit into the memory box that's your version of who I am. Alas, this is not a fairy tale, I'm not prince charming, you're not Cinderella, and this baby is not some magic panacea sent from some far away land to reunite us. Need I remind you we were never a couple, we were a moment. And our moment has passed. We will never be a family in any form. Not a mom and dad living in the same house or co-parenting," he says stalking back toward the front of the room.

"Mr. Grey," I say hesitantly. "Can I drop the Mr. Grey bull crap and call you Christian?" I sigh.

"Why ask now? It's not like you've been adhering to the rule," he snorts.

"Okay. Christian, I don't want the fairy tale. I gave up on that long ago. I have one mission and one mission only and that is to keep and protect my child. Despite what you think, this was no master plan to trap you or get your money. I'm scared yes, but not sorry. I will not let this child be born with that stigma. And let me be clear, I want this baby. I want to keep this baby," I state

"That's not going to happen Anastasia. With good conscious, I can't leave this child with you. My parents are better able to give this child the life you so eloquently gushed about. If you love this baby as much as you claim, then you would acknowledge that this is the best option and stop looking at it as some evil plan to punish you. Judge it on it's on merit."

"I can hardly believe you just said that with a straight face. It has everything to do with punishing me. Punishing me is at the core of everything you do. In your plan, I'm just a delivery mechanism with no rights. So explain to me how that's not a punishment?" And when he starts to speak I interrupt him. "And while you're at it please explain how you expect to execute said plan. Grace and Carrick never finding out that you're the father and I'm the mother. What will you say when this baby is 2 with fully developed features that look an awful lot like yours or mine. A little boy running around with a hint of copper to his hair and your gray eyes? Or a little girl with brown hair and blue eyes like mine. Then what Christian? Huh? Have you thought that far?"

"I'll admit to being the father, but you will never be outed as the mother."

"Asshole," I huff.

"Yes, Anastasia. I'm the asshole with all the power."

"Power. That's what this boils down to? This is a game to you, but this is my life. I'm not some chip on board, I bite back. And for the first time I understand all the talk of mama bears. I am tired. I am scared, but you've forced me to become a mama bear and I will fight for my cub. As ill-advised as it maybe I'm prepared to take you to court. That is if you want this sham of a contract to come to light. Imagine what the business community will think of you then? Now, who has the power?" I bluster, but suddenly I don't feel so bold. I was emboldened by the realization that I had nothing to lose, but now I'm sick to my stomach. Especially when I see the hostility in his eyes.

"Oh Ms. Steele," he says menacingly. "You don't want to go there. If I can find out that you're pregnant within hours of you finding out. Find where you're staying at Harvard and walk inside undetected, what do you think I will do to you if you go up against me?" he bellows as he stalks up to me until he's inches from my face. "I will destroy you. I will make your days with your mother seem like Disney World." His eyes are cold and he's resolute in his threat.

I swallow hard and cock my head at him in an act of defiance. I'm acting on adrenaline, because my nerves have long taken a hike. "I suspect you finding out about me has more to do with my best friend than some James Bond bat cave shenanigans." I lay out my hunch. "The way I see it, it's you that needs to stop believing in fairy tales." I smirk. That little tidbit was too juicy to hold back.

"Why, when it's so good being the Villain?" He raises his brows at me. "Tell you what let's play this game of chicken and see who blinks first," he sneers. "Tell me Anastasia is it the fucker you've been fucking giving you your balls? Let me be clear I will destroy him and his whole family if you try me."

"You're a bully." Is the only the only thing I can come up with.

"Yes I am," he says proudly.

"You're right you know who you are," I sigh. "Seeing that I'm not your favorite person, why are you so fixated on who I'm sleeping with? While we're on the subject, let's talk about your many partners, starting with the bimbo you had on the red carpet," I snarl.

"Jealous?" he smiles. "Unlike you I'm not driven by petty jealousy. I don't give a shit who you're fucking. It's more to the broader issue. How can a young woman who's more interested in her next lay see to the welfare of a child? I've seen the movie, hell I've lived it." He lets his vulnerability slip.

"Let me repeat I'm not your mother. From your own admission, she was drug addicted and a prostitute. I'm none of those things," I say. I'm so tired of the men in my life comparing me to the weak women from their past. Perhaps I should start over with someone new, who's not walking around with such baggage.

"You forget liar. She was a liar and you most certainly are a liar," he retaliates.

"I'm sorry I lied about my age. My intention was never to hurt you or to put your business in peril. I'm sorry for seducing you into sleeping with me. Heck, I'll even apologize for showing up at the Gala when I was 8. I will jump through any hoop you want me too if you let me keep this child. I will leave the country and we can be your dirty little secret. At the same time, I will give you the courtesy of knowing where we are so you can be part of this child's life if you want to. I'm not looking for a battle with you Christian. I just want to keep my baby."

"No. I will not have this baby raised by a lying, whore like I was," he says and I can feel my breathing increasing. It feels like I'm hyperventilating and I try to practice my breathing techniques. Christian stares at me with disgust etched on his face. "This is how this is going to go down. As soon as you return to Portland I will have someone contact you for a Drs' appointment. The Dr. will keep me updated on your progress. I will keep up with you until the baby is born. But after today we will have no further contact with each other. So for all intents and purposes this is goodbye Anastasia," he says calmly and with purpose he strolls to the chair removing his jacket from the back. Reaching inside he pulls out the document laying it on the desk. Slipping the jacket on Christian gracefully makes his way to the door.

If this is going to be the last time I see him, I have to know. "Why do you hate me so much?" I yell as he puts his hand on the knob.

"I don't hate you Anastasia," he pauses and swivels to make sure his eyes lock with mine. "I detest you," he says and he's gone

His heartless words are an affront to my soul and I'm angry at myself for letting him reduce me to this yet again. Thankful for the silence, the loneliness I close my eyes and I stay still letting the warm tears come down my face uncontested. My body trembles and I get an overwhelming urge to move or else die. I trudge across the room in the vicinity of the desk where the items Christian wiped off remain strewn on the floor. On auto pilot, I bend and start the tedious task of picking up each item one at a time. Wiping at my face, I clear my eyes of water so I can see. First I reach for the small stapler, followed by a yellow paper clip, but it's when I reach for pink clip I can put up the brave front no more.

Circling an arm around my waist I double over before I collapse to the floor where I let the items tumble out of my hand. Falling back against the wall I rock myself as the sting of his words come crashing over me in a second brutal wave as the tears burning the back of my lids are unleashed with the same force. I rest the heels of my palms to my forehead and I scream as loudly as I can. I need to purge.

Naively, I talked myself into believing that there wasn't much more he could do to me alas I was wrong. It's obvious Christian Grey has the power to decimate me and it's because I always relinquish my power to him. Too much of a weakling to stand up for myself. But this time I lost more than my self-respect, I've lost the battle for my child. Resting my head back against the wall, my shoulders start shuddering as the torrent continues.

"Ana," Luke yells when he burst open the door. "What the hell?" he shouts as he crouches to get a better look at me. Hooking his arms under my shoulders he pulls me to him and I sob into the crook of his neck. "That fucker was here wasn't he?" he seethes against my hair. The wailing has gobbled up my voice and I can't respond. Not that I was planning to confirm his suspicion. The last thing I need is World War III between Luke and Christian. Their goons going against each other. "I'd known something was up when you never responded to my texts or calls. I should've checked sooner," he whispers as he kisses the top of my head. "I'm here now." Then he scoops me up into his arms. "We're getting out of here."


	20. Chapter 20: Jars Of Heart

Chapter 20 : Jars of Heart

Disclaimer: FSOG belongs to EL James

A/N: The last chapter struck a nerve and I heard from a lot of you, so I want to thank you all for reading and reviewing my story. I hope you continue to enjoy.

My eyes flicker open, and the outline of a face starts to come into view, but I have to blink rapidly before I can make out that it's Luke. The concern he has etched on his face is unmistakable. But I don't know why. I'm in bed and my head is cloudy, but other than that I feel fine so why the tortured look. Then it hits me, the baby. I've lost my baby. Oh my God, that's it…it's why Luke is finding it so hard to meet my gaze. Panic fills me, and I want to sit up, but I'm too groggy, and my body won't cooperate with me.

"Welcome back beautiful," he says and it's too sweet. He picks at some wayward strands of hair on my forehead moving them to the side as he try to put up a brave front, but it's too late, I've already seen his worry.

"Where am I?" I croak as I make another attempt at sitting up. "Is my baby okay?" My voice cracks as my words get stuck on a sob. My unease rising my eyes dart around the room as I wait for Luke's response. It is then that I make out where I am, Luke's apartment and not a hospital so my anxiety takes a dive, and I can relax a bit.

"Oh, baby no," he's quick to respond. "Your baby is fine. You're at my apartment," he says calmly confirming what I now know.

"Thank God," I sigh closing my eyes and I tilt my head back into the pillow. "Why am I so sleepy," I murmur.

"You were in hysterics when I found you. I was concerned about you having another panic attack, so I called Dr. Winston and who in turn called in a prescription for something to help you sleep," he says, and it is what I needed to wake me up.

"She gave me tranquilizers?" I'm alarmed that Dr. Winston would prescribe me high powered sleeping aid, knowing I'm pregnant. "That can't be good for the baby?" I whine as the mercury creeps up on my freak-out thermometer. Sensing the problem, Luke tries to reassure me. Letting me know the Dr. assured him the medication was all natural and safe for pregnant women.

"Ok," I say and I breathe a sigh of relief. "That makes me feel a little better, but I'm still not keen on taking the medication so when this dose goes through my system, I'm not taking another one."

"That's fine, we'll just throw the rest out. She only called in one prescription." Either I'm still out of it, or Luke's upset with me. He sounds disingenuous which makes no sense because I think my concern was very valid, and I'm of the mind that he'd be as concern about this baby's health as me.

"Luke, are you mad with me?" I ask as I try to qualify his misplaced anger.

"Baby, of course not," he says smoothing out my eyebrows. "I'm just frustrated," he sighs, as he's only able to manages a half-smile. "But don't worry about me. Focus on yourself. You have another life to thank about." He then leans down and gives me a peck on the lips to pacify me.

"It's dark outside. What time is it?"

"About 7 pm."

"I can't believe you let me sleep the day away."

"You needed it," he says.

"Maybe so, but I feel better now, and I need to get up to clear the cobwebs out of my head. That sleeping pill has done a number on me," I whine.

"Tell you what I'll help you sit up, "Luke says as he carefully gets up from the bed and planting his feet on the floor he hovers over me helping me to balance my torso upright against the headboard. "This way you can get acclimated without exerting too much energy. And if you think you'd be okay alone for a moment, I could go get you some water. You sound hoarse. You're throat must be dry?"

"It is, thank you. Luke you can go. There isn't much that can happen to me in the time it takes for you to walk to the kitchen and back," I smirk.

"I see your sarcasm isn't affected by the fog," he smiles. "Stay, here I'll be right back." And when he realizes he'd lobbed me an easy one he swivels warning me about my quick wit.

With Luke gone, I take the opportunity, to think back on my morning with Christian, as I begin the arduous task of untangling my hair. The meeting might have been unexpected, but the results predictably the same... me a weeping mess. "Ouch," I holler when my fingers get stuck in a knot, and I try forcing them through the matted mess, but my pain threshold is too low, so I give up.

"Baby, are you okay?" Luke asks as he scrambles to my bedside with the glass of water safely ensconced in his hand. Remarkably, not a drop is lost in the frenzy.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," I shrug. "I got my fingers caught in the tangles of my hair," I sigh. "Is it too much to ask that the next time you rescue me and my hair is wet, you blow-dry it before putting me to bed," I say deadpan and he doubles over in laughter. "I'm serious," I say pouting like a toddler.

"I'll keep that in mind," he chortles. "Here's your water." I take it and guzzle the water down in one long gulp.

"Thank you," I say politely handing the empty glass back to him and he sets it down on the bedside table

"Do you think you can eat something?" he asks. "I hope you don't mind, I went ahead and ordered in. I was pretty certain you wouldn't want to go out," he adds.

"Good thinking, but I'm not ready to eat right now. Maybe later?" I whisper

"While we wait for your appetite to return, why we don't talk about what happened this morning?" he says going for the jugular, but I'm far from ready to have this discussion. The bed dips, as Luke joins me making himself comfortable, as he waits for my recount of the morning's activities.

"Do I have too?"

"No, but I'd hope you'd want too," he sighs. "I was horrified when I found you, so I was hoping you'd provide me with some answers," he pauses. "I'd already have my idea about who's the culprit, and your reluctance to talk only confirms it," he confesses, and I give him a sympathetic stare. "So can you put me out of my misery and at least verify that for me?"

"You're right," I say with no hesitation giving him that much and he takes a deep breath.

"Okaaay," he draws out. "Then I don't understand how you allowed him to get the upper hand on you. We'd discussed ad nauseum what his response would be."

"You make a valid point Luke. But you have to understand, he caught me off guard. It might have been on my turf, but it was on his terms," I lament and Luke bolts forward.

"What? Did he break in?" he huffs. "Did he hit you?" Luke's expression is solemn, so I know he's serious. Christian is a lot of things, but I can't label a physical abuser.

"No, Luke. Some of his zingers might have felt like a slap in the face, but he's not violent," I say answering part of his question, intentionally evading the other half.

"That's good to know because I would hunt him down like a dog and kick his ass," Luke says and his phone beeps a reminder that I don't have mine.

When Luke quickly gets rid of the person on the other end of his call, I inquire about my phone. He confides that in his haste to remove me from what he perceived as a hostile environment he'd left everything of mine behind. Including my phone and purse and upon learning about the situation, a watered-down version of the truth he's sure to reiterate, Amanda volunteered to bring everything by later tonight.

He puts his arm around my neck, and I nuzzle into his side. "You don't want to talk, so let me give you my version of what happened. I suspect the sperm donor showed up at your dorm-"

"Sperm Donor?" I howl. "Sorry," I say fanning my face as I continue to laugh hysterically, "but that has to be the funniest thing I've heard in a long time. It has definitely made my day," I can't but howl. "Sorry, I digress. Continue," I snicker.

"Well, what else do you call a man that tries to shuck his responsibilities," Luke hisses and I pull myself together.

"Let me be clear I was not laughing at you-"

"Baby," he interrupts. "I know. I'm not that sensitive I can tell the difference. Now let me get to my story before I forget," he says, and I settle back in the crook of his arm as I stifle a giggle. "Based on your distress, I'd have to guess he was not thrilled at the idea of being a daddy. And since you've alluded to his wealth and power I'd also venture a guess that he didn't have his security detail with him because he knew he could get over on you. See weak men in his position get intoxicated on the power but hide behind security when it comes to the heavy lifting. But with someone non-threatening they can feel comfortable in throwing their bravado around. So I'm willing to bet, he showed up without his security? That's it in a nutshell. All I have," he says tilting his head down at me, and I let out the breath I'd been holding.

The last thing I want to do is bring him into this whirlwind, which is why I'm not forthcoming. Regardless of what he thinks, he's not been engulfed by the eye of the storm. He's a storm chaser unconcern for his own safety running after the funnel cloud but just missing the turbulence. Christian's very real threat burns hot and heavy in my mind, and I have to keep Luke at a safe distance, so he never catches up to the twister. Sure he's not the wind, fire or rain but Christian Grey can wreak his own brand of a natural disaster.

Breathing hard, he hits his head on the headboard. "I should have known something was seriously wrong when you were not responding to my texts or phone calls. So I should've reacted sooner. I keep failing you; I let another man get close enough to harm you when it's my job to protect you."

"Hey," I say resting a hand on his chest. "That's not your job; it's my job, and I'm the one failing. You have done nothing but right by me. I don't know what guy would stay true to a girl he has known for only a few weeks after finding out she was pregnant with another man's baby."

"When you love someone Ana you accept everything about them. This baby you're carrying will never have my blood. Never look like me but it makes no difference because I already love him because he will have your blood and your attributes. The bastard is so damn lucky that you're the mother of his child, and he treats you like shit," he sighs.

"In all fairness Luke, I was a one night stand. It's not like he'd expected we'd be connected for life."

"Then he should have worn a fucking condom," he bites back. "I can't believe you're still defending him."

"I'm not defending him," I say. "I have to be objective about our coupling for my own sanity," I say honestly.

"Good. Because all I want to do right now is kick his motherfucking ass," Luke huffs. "And by the way, I'd appreciate it if you'd refrain from filling my head with images of the two of you together. I know you're pregnant, and I know how babies are made, so I don't need you to paint me the picture." He's jealous, and he's angry a volatile mix which is why he can never know Christian's identity.

"This is why I can't tell you his name," I say under my breath, but Luke hears, and he pulls his arm from around my neck as he leaps from the bed his feet landing on the floor with a thud. "Where are you going?"

"I need to wash my face," he says. "Do you still love him?" Luke asks as he rests his hand against the door frame. I pause a moment too, and when I'm unable to give him an answer right away, he's gone.

I close my eyes in frustration. Why am I so spineless, I'm becoming one of those women I loathe? Partly, it's what Christian does to me, expose my weaknesses; on the other hand, Luke works tirelessly to uncover my strengths. Then why do I let Christian take up so much of the oxygen?

"He wants custody. Is why I was so upset." I cop to as soon as Luke reappears. This is the information I'm almost comfortable with spinning, he doesn't need to know the details.

"What!" he booms? "That makes no fucking sense."

"That should be the hashtag describing our hookup," I grimace and bed dips as Luke rests a knee on the edge.

"Come here," he whispers and he pulls me into his strong arms. "We can take a break from this. You need to eat," he whispers into my hair. I'm not hungry, but I'm so glad that he's moved on from this topic, I'll give him the win.

"Okay," I murmur.

"Hey, look who's here," Luke says when he escorts Amanda to the bedroom.

"Amanda," I shriek opening my arms wide to her.

"Ana Roo," she yelps, her newest nickname for me. Every day is something different. She throws herself at me, and we indulge in a long embrace.

"I'm finished," I mouth to Luke over Amanda's back and he comes inside to pick up the dirty utensils. "Thank you," I say as I release Amanda.

"It must be nice," she teases when she catches Luke cleaning up after me, and he gives her knowing wink.

"I'll give you ladies your privacy. Baby, I'll just be in the kitchen so let me know if you need anything," he says as he heads to the door with the dirty loot in hand.

"Okay," I say and I turn my attention to Amanda. "Thank you so much for going out of your way to bring me my things," I say squeezing her hand, and Amanda is wearing a strange expression on her face. "What's wr-?"

Before I can even get the question out Amanda is digging in her messenger bag. She pulls out two pieces of paper, one I immediately recognize as the sonogram the other I can't make out. Amanda lays everything out in front of me as if she presenting her evidence to the court

"You're pregnant aren't you?" she asks and I keep my head down staying focus on the sonogram I'm holding refusing to look at what I now know is the contract Christian left behind. "And Luke isn't the father, it's some guy named Grey," she says.

At that, I snap my head up. "Ssh. Keep your voice down," I say between gritted teeth.

"What's going, Ana? What's that fucking document about, it looks like a poor excuse for a contract," she whispers, and she's leaned in so close I can smell her breath? She'd just had her favorite hard candy, Werther's caramel.

"Stay out of it Amanda and do not tell anyone I'm pregnant. Not even a Jazz or Ian."

"I won't, but I want some answers."

"I'm sorry, but I don't have any for you."

"Not even...," she says going to the contract but I'm faster, and I get to it first, "about that?" She motions to the stapled papers I'm now holding.

"No," I say clutching the papers tightly. "It's a personal and private document you should not have been privy too."

"That maybe so, but I have seen it. And it wasn't like I went snooping for it was laying on the desk in plain view."

"Sorry, I wasn't accusing you of anything I was only pointing out the facts. It's a personal matter, so please let me take care of it."

"Does Luke know?"

"He knows about the baby. Not about the rest of it."

"I see. Look I don't know this Grey character but he is trying to run roughshod over you with the sham of a contract that I doubt is even legal," she says.

"Amanda I appreciate your concern but I have it under control."

"That's why you vacated our place like a bat out of hell," she says sarcastically. "That doesn't sound or look like control to me," she says leaving me speechless and I'm almost giddy when Luke pokes his head in interrupting us.

"Ladies sorry to interrupt," Luke says not picking up on the bad vibe in the room between Amanda and me. But in his defense we're both mastering fake smiles as we stare at him. "Amanda, I forgot to ask if you wanted anything."

"Thank you," she says politely. "But no. I'm getting ready to leave," Amanda says looking at Luke then me "Ana here's your phone," she say producing something else that belongs to me from the utilitarian purse. "Your overnight bag and purse are upfront."

"Thank you, I almost forgot about it," I say, a nervous laughter escaping me.

"Oh, before I forget, Jazz wants us to have goodbye luncheon. Do you think you'll be able to make it?" Amanda says

"Sure, just let me know when."

"Okay," she says pulling me into a suspiciously tight embrace. "Call me if you need anything," she whispers in my ear out of earshot of Luke, who's still lurking in the background. Releasing me, Amanda struts to Luke who shows her out.

"So do you want to tell me what I interrupted?" Luke says when he's back. He shoves his hands in the pockets of jeans as he walks to the bed. It's his way of letting me know that he's astute. "Or will I have to torture it out of you?" he jokes and he's positioning himself to lunge on the bed.

"I'm pregnant," I shriek as he dives at me and after a few well-placed groping of my sensitive zones and well-timed laughs Luke sits back up bringing me with him.

"Seriously, what were you guys talking about I could feel the tension in the room when I walked in."

"Luke I'm making you paranoid. Everything surrounding me isn't all sinister," I smile trying to minimize the rift that has developed between Amanda and me. "We're good. Now if you'd excuse me, I'm going to take a shower." I decide to deal with my phone later, I already know it's riddled with calls and messages from Kate and Luke. The rat's nest on top of my head is taking precedence. I need to get it wet, and it'll be good to wash away the ugliness of the day.

As I'm about to cross the threshold to his bedroom after my scolding shower, when I stumble on Luke in the middle of partial undress. He's removing his sweat-soaked tee shirt from his sweat-drenched body after what must have been an intense workout. In awe, I stay back and leisurely rest a forearm on the door-frame to quietly enjoy the show. And just as I get in position Luke shucks the shirt to the floor, revealing his rock hard body. His back is to me, so he's unaware that he has a Gawker giving me free reign to salivate and lust after his remarkable physique. If muscles on the back is an indication of a man's fitness, Luke Sawyer is beyond fit...he is cut. And every sinew of his ripped body is on display for my personal enjoyment, and I'm aroused thinking about all the things I can do with that body.

The year round tan he'd sported since I'd met him has gradually disappeared and now he fits in with his Pacific Northwest roots. His skin is still luminous, he's still beautiful, and his body just as tempting. There's a full moon in the overcast sky, and the way the light is bouncing off of the sweat glistening on his skin is making the well-defined ripples appear to dance.

"Ahem," Luke clears his throat interrupting me from my lascivious thoughts and when I look up he captures my heated gaze. "See something you like?" His voice is low and husky an incendiary device to my already smoldering libido. Holding the towel tight around my chest I push away from the frame and sway my hips from side as I sashay into the room closing the distance between us

Running a fingertip down his chest dripping with his sweat, I stop shy of his happy trail that's peeking out from the waistband of his shorts that are slung low on his muscular hips to take him in up close and personal. "Yes," I moan and that one-word response speaks to my intentions.

"Baby, I'm sweaty," he says his voice is hoarse, and his eyes hooded. "I decided to grab a quick work out while you were in the shower. I needed to work off some steam," Luke rambles trying to feign ambivalence, but the tent in his basketball shorts confirms what I already know...he's turned on too.

My lips curl up in a wicked smile and with the tip of my tongue I lick the spot in the middle of his chest that has been taunting me since I walked up to him. Then I run my tongue over my bottom lip for the exclamation point. The saltiness is doing something to me, and I want more of him and I want it now.

"Fuck," Luke grunts and he closes his eyes.

"See, I don't mind a little sweat," I purr and, hooking my fingers in the waistband of his shorts I start to bring them down his legs, as I go down to the floor with them.

Coming face to face with his underwear covered manhood, I help Luke step out of the shorts. Then I help him out of his socks and sneakers like I'm a Geisha. Leaving the only piece of clothing covering his body his briefs, and that's too much fabric for me. They need to go; they're keeping me from the ultimate prize. So hurriedly, I try to rid him of the briefs and Luke stammers backward.

"Whoa baby slow down," he chuckles. "I'm not going anywhere." Maybe not but he doesn't understand my urgency. I need him. I need this to help exorcise the ghost of Christian Grey that has inhabited my mind filling it with loathing and self-doubt. And as soon as his cock springs free I suck him in my mouth, leaving the briefs hanging half way around his legs

"Damn Ana," Luke cries out and it's a mixture of his pleasure with the shock at how greedily I inhaled him.

With his cock ensconced in my mouth, my hands are free to bring his briefs the rest of the way down his legs and over his feet. All barriers completely discarded, I cup his ass pushing him forward until he's hitting the back of my throat. The sweat, his musk, his scent spurring me own as I make a meal out of sucking his dick as Christian so eloquently described it.

"Fuck baby what are you doing to me?" Luke growls as he struggles to find something to do with his hands. And it sparks an idea.

Luke has done a yeoman's job getting me comfortable with giving head. I've even learned to enjoy it, but not as much as I am right now because in my mind's eyes I'm imagining Christian watching me and being tortured by what he sees. The imagery is dark and perverse I know, but it's my aphrodisiac and as long as Luke is reaping the benefits I've convinced myself it's not out of bounds.

Being careful to not to let my mouth lose connection with his cock, I remove a hand from Luke's behind searching out his hands to put them on the back of my head. At first Luke is reluctant and tries to pull back because he knows this is a hard limit for me, but through some gentle coaxing he gets the hint. Assured that it is indeed what I want, Luke wholeheartedly embraces the notion cupping the back of my head pushing me down on his erection as he thrusts his hips fucking my mouth. Tears prick at my eyes as the horrors of my childhood sneak up on me, but in a short time the demons dissolve as I'm being consumed by Luke marking me, reminding where I am and who I belong too with each hit of his cock at the back of my throat.

"Yesss," Luke screams. Holding tight to the back of his muscular thighs I provide him the leverage he needs to thrust his cock in and out of my mouth thoroughly. Stumbling back against the dresser, Luke braces himself as his orgasm hits him hot and heavy. "Fuck," he roars as his cum oozes down my throat, and with determination I swallow all the warm salty liquid that might as well be the nectar of the Gods it infuses me with so much energy.

When Luke comes down from his high, he has to force me off his flaccid cock because I continue sucking trying to bring it back to life. "Geez, Ana," Luke moans and he comes to his knees joining me on the floor. Cupping my face Luke kisses one corner of my mouth then the other, and when I open my eyes, he's staring at me with reverie. "Not that I'm complaining, but what was that? It was raw, so unlike you. There's something more going on here," he alludes, and I keep my eyes closed to evade the inquiry. I don't want to dissect my emotional state I want to stay lost in the moment. "Did me cupping the back of your head trigger anything for you?" he whispers. It's his roundabout way of getting an answer to his initial question.

"No." I lie. I'm anxious to keep us on the sex track and away from the psychobabble bull crap. I want him to take me to the edge of glory...and tip me over. "I'm fine Luke. Tonight don't worry about being gentle with me," I whisper as I struggle to keep the desperate need out of my voice. Still cupping my face, he brings my mouth to his where he gently kisses my lips until they part expectantly, then he hungrily plunders my mouth sucking my tongue heatedly and he releases my face to cup the nape of my neck so he can devour my mouth. I wince, but it's barely noticeable so I'm glad Luke doesn't pick up on it. The minor pain from the bruise on my lip is a welcome distraction from the menacing ache promising to bubble to the surface.

"Mmmm, I can still taste me on you," he smiles. Standing Luke extends his hand to me. "Your knees must be hurting," he says jerking on my arm and I collide with his body. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs as he pushes wet strands of hair from my face.

"I don't feel beautiful," I grumble as I turn away from his gaze, but Luke puts a hand on the side of my face forcing it back to him.

Engaging me with his adoring gaze, Luke eyes me longingly as he undoes the towel that's already threatening to fall away from my chest. Then he steps back raking his eyes over my nakedness as he worships my body and all of a sudden I feel bashful being so exposed to him. I can feel the warmth spreading so I don't have to see my reflection to know I'm red all over plus Luke's smirk confirms the suspicion.

Without saying another word, Luke drops to his knees, as my eyes flit down following him and I release the breath I'd been holding while my head lolls back in anticipation of what's to come. But Luke does the unexpected, he rests the side of his face on my belly instead of burying it between my legs and my head pops forward. I'm so moved; I take a big gulp of air inhaling the same breath I'd just expelled as my fingers comb through his buzzed cut hair. On the large scale of life, this action is small, but the significance is profound. I'm overwhelmed by his touching show of support, and the tears are back. And then Luke rises causing my hand to fall away and when he's standing he immediately rubs the pads of his thumb over the moisture still glistening on my cheeks. "And now that you're carrying a life inside of you, you are more than beautiful you are radiant," he whispers and he grabs my damp hair piling it on top of my head. Then he lets it fall. "I love you," he says before picking me up in his arms carrying me the short distance to the bed.

Pulling the covers back the length of the mattress, Luke lays me on top the sheet like it's an altar. And the sound of our conjoined hearts beating a staccato rhythm brings the silence to life while the full moon bathes the room in its glow setting a mood befitting my riotous one. From our differing approach, it's clear our motives for the night are at odds, but we're too coward and too heated to confront the conflict. Or maybe I'm the paranoid one.

The bed dips as Luke crawls between my legs pushing them up and when a drop of his cool rivulet of sweat lands on my inner thigh I'm on fire. Observing me, but staying silent, Luke reaches back grabbing for his cock lining it up with my entrance sliding it into me. He takes my breath away like it's my first time. In a sense it is, it's the first time we're having intercourse without a condom. And the difference is minimal but it's enough to let me know there is a difference.

As he thrust, I start gyrating beneath him.

"Slow," he begs as he grinds into me." Slow," he purrs. " I want to savor you. I want to make love to you," he whispers in my ear as he pulls out of me taking my wrists one at a time pinning my arms above my head and then he slams back into me.

"Uh," I cry out as my head jutted forward, and Luke stills giving me time to acclimate. Then he moves rolling his hips slowly grinding down into me as he makes love to me.

"Damn," Luke grunts as he collapses on me; meanwhile, I stare at the ceiling as his orgasm courses through him, and the evidence pours down my inner thighs.

On a normal night, I would be left feeling sated and exhausted, but tonight is not a normal night.

"You're not satisfied?" Luke sighs as he buries his head in my still damp hair before dejectedly rolling off me to his side on the bed.

I come up on my elbow searching out his eyes, and they're filled with a mixture of disappointment, embarrassment, and frustration. "I want more," I murmur. The dull ache simmering deep in my gut won't let me be apologetic for being honest about my unfilled sexual desires.

Luke covers his eyes with his forearm and after a moment of quiet contemplation, he leaps from the bed causing it to bounce and; as soon as, his feet hit the floor he vanishes. When he returns, Luke is carrying a nondescript box that he sits on the bedside table while he switches on the lamp for a bit more illumination. "Open your legs," he urges and hovering over me he drags a warm cloth over my mound, along my slit, and down my thighs. "I want to get you cleaned to get you dirty again," he winks and with a devilish grin playing on his face he motions for me to shift to my left to get us out of the wet spot. I don't know what he has in his box but somewhere between the bedroom and wherever he disappeared to Luke has recovered his confidence. He's not showing any residual hang-ups to my challenge to his sexual prowess; in fact, he appears motivated and determined to meet the challenge. Reaching back Luke switches off the lamp leaving us again awash in the moonlight, and he throws the cloth to the floor climbing on the bed taking up position between my legs once more.

This time he stretches his body flat and parting my folds, he runs the tip of his tongue the length of the slit. "Aha," I gasp and my hands clutch the sheets as my back arches off the bed. Resting a palm on my heated flesh Luke presses down on my still flat stomach pushing me back down as he relentlessly sucks on my nub. I try to writhe, but I'm imprisoned by his strong hand and adept tongue; forced to endure his sweet torture as he licks, bite, and suck until I can take it no more and I start coming undone.

Happy with himself, but clearly a plan playing out in his warp mind, Luke crawls up my trembling body and latches onto a full swollen boob. "Mmm, this is what I've been waiting for," he mumbles against my erect nipple, but his words vaguely registers he's caught me as my orgasm is cresting.

"Oh, Gawd yes," I plead as I thrash, but instead of pausing to let me ride out my orgasm, Luke pads on the pleasure biting my nipples, hungrily feasting on a boob extending the orgasm. Damn I knew he had a plan, but this is too much I growl inwardly as I finally float back to earth. As I come out of my sex induced haze, I see the glint in his baby blue eyes, and I hold my breath because I know he's not done with me yet.

And right on cue Luke leans over pulling an object out of his box of tricks that resembles a wand until I hear the buzzing, and I realize it is a vibrator. It's a different one from the one we'd used.

"I ordered a new one. A slimmer one that I can use to penetrate your tight little ass without hurting it too much," he says again responding to my inner musing. I need to work on my poker face. "And since you're insatiable tonight, I would say it's right on time," he smirks and a smug grin covers his face. "Now, I want you to stand on your knees and turn your back to me," he orders. I love it when he takes charge in the bedroom, and it is the exact thing I need now, to be dominated.

Luke hustles on his knees until his front is close enough to my back for his hardness to rub against my behind making me hiss. Moving my hair to one side, Luke plants a kiss on my bare shoulder before he inserts the vibrator into my wetness that forces me back flush against his broad hard chest. The moisture on my skin now matches his so when our bodies collide the sound is palpable. My head rolls from side to side as he works my core over with the rotating instrument.

"Aha," I moan as I gyrate on the vibrator and Luke silences me by plunging a well-timed finger into my mouth. Then he synchronizes the pumping of the vibrator in and out of my core with the pumping of his digit in and out my mouth. The sensation is overwhelming and very erotic. Then he removes his finger, but he continues with the vibrator saving me from wanting.

As I groan and grind down on the toy, I feel Luke reach in his box, and I can't wait to see what he's coming out with. "Open," he says putting in my hand a plastic tube that I recognize as lube. So I open the lube, and he rips open a foil wrapper. He takes the opened container and covers my ass, and his latex encased cock with the gel. Tantalizing my skin, Luke puts his hand on my exposed shoulder nudging me forward a tad giving him space to enter me from behind. "I'm going to fuck your ass with my dick, your pussy with the vibrator and your mouth with my finger" he breathes in my ear before biting the lobe.

"Ugh," I gasp because that's what I need, what I want. To be debased, by him. Christian has my head so screwed up, I need the darkness to fuel the light.

Recalling his prior instructions, I push back on Luke as he pushes his engorged cock into the puckered hole. The vibrator manipulating my core helps absorbs some of the discomforts from being taken in this way. Trailing kisses on the back of my shoulder, Luke rolls his hip thrusting his erection deeper in my ass, at the same time still feverishly pumping the vibrator in and out my wetness.

"Baby, I want you to take the vibrator," he whispers and I replace my hand with his. The control of the device in my hand, I mirror Luke and push in and out of my core.

"Aha," I moan. The sensation I feel at getting myself off is making me drunk with power. Then upping the arousal ante, Luke plunges his thumb in my mouth pushing my head further into his shoulder that forces me back on his cock, and I want to cry out. The pain, the pleasure the erotic bliss; it's all too much. But the debauchery is what I need to put this monster in me to rest.

"Feel it, baby," Luke groans "Feel me," he moans against my skin inflaming me more. "Suck," he demands and his authoritative persona is hot. "Is this more?" he grunts as he rolls his hip pumping his cock in my ass, his thumb feverishly in my mouth, and I follow his lead working myself over with the same fervor. And I'm at the edge of glory, going over the precipice

"Yes. So much more," I moan and it's a guttural moan.

**The Next Morning.**

I'm flat on my stomach when I wake up, and I try to turn to my front, but every part of me ached. I'm reminded of all we did last night, not that I need the images in my head. I close my eyes, haunted by my behavior. Flinching I get on my side, and I inspect Luke's sleeping profile. I smile down at him and pretending to move an imaginary hair from his temple. Last night might been have been dark, or should I say was I dark, but Luke was not. He only gave me what I wanted. Kate's right, he is hot, but he's so much more and he deserves so much more from me. But so bogged down in the quagmire of Christian Grey I can't give it to him.

Thinking back on all that happened yesterday, last night, oh my God last night and I fall on the bed in exasperation. How could've I let things go so far, I chastise myself? I check and Luke is still sleeping, so I ease out of bed careful not to wake him. I'm not ready to face him.

Tiptoeing to the bathroom, I barricade myself inside, and I splash some water on my face. Bracing against the sink, I see my reflection in the mirror. My eyes are bloodshot, and I must have the pregnancy glow because my skin is luminous despite the day I had and the night." Oh, the night," I sigh out loud as I hang my head in shame "A banana," I groan. In what universe did I think having a banana stuck up my wahoo was a good idea? And the door, "Oh the door," I mumble in my hands as I bury face in them. "Geeze," I sigh as I remove my hands from my face. Who tries to hump a door knob? Just as that little ditty plays unwelcome in my head, I hear Luke, and I scramble to lock the door. I want to force him to the second bathroom; he's the last person I want to see this morning.

"You may want to go the other the bathroom," I yell through the door when the handle rattles.

"Okay," he says groggily.

Disaster avoided; I add insult to injury and plant myself back in front of the mirror again. My reflection is once again front and center. It's me. All in all, I look like me just more battled tested or warned down depending on the day. At the moment, it's a toss-up, I'm conflicted on the direction of my life. A few months ago I was living a simple boring life, my only worries finishing school on my timeline, keeping up with my work schedule, and deciding if I should abandon the washed out blonde hair for my natural dark tresses. And my only sexual concern, Jose's clumsy attempts at a kiss or a feel. Now look at me, I'm debating the merits of an orgasm via manual stimulation or battery operated contraptions. And let's not forget a baby, I'm having a baby.

I want to go down the rabbit hole or come back up whatever will take me back in time.

"Hey, are you trying to avoid me?" Luke asks when he corners me in the hall.

"No," I say my eyes downcast.

"Then explain why you're behaving like an apparition. I come into a room; you rush out making me question if you were ever there. I turn a corner, and you go the other way. All morning I've only gotten a whiff of you. You're like a ghost," he says, and I stay quiet taking it all in. "Most importantly, why are you not looking at me?" he asks and he puts a finger under my chin lifting my head up. "Answer me."

"Let it go, Luke," I murmur.

"I won't let it go when you look so tormented."

"Last night," I blurt out.

"Yeah," he shrugs. "What about last night? It was pretty awesome." Luke is confused by my sudden bout of decency. "Are you having a problem with what happened last night?" he asks and I push his hand away.

"Yes," I sigh.

"Baby, what we did was between two consenting adult in the privacy of our home. We're a couple; we experimented that's what couples do."

"Maybe so, but I'm ashamed of my behavior. I acted like a whore," I say, and he takes my chin squeezing it between his fingers.

"Don't you ever refer to yourself that way," he seethes. "Even in jest," he says and he releases my face. Rubbing his hand over his face in exasperation Luke paces a few steps before settling back in front of me. "Those are his words. I know it, you don't have to tell me. Don't let his petty insecurities define you," he whispers as he runs his fingers along the side of my face. "If he we're here, I would punch him in the face for every letter in the word," he hisses and Luke slaps the wall above my head making me flinch. "And while we're having this discussion about this mystery man. Last night will be the last time I share you with him in bed. If you think I'm too stupid to recognize that last night was about him you've underestimated me. You get a pass because I know yesterday was a bitch for you," he says

"I'm sorry," I whimper.

"Don't apologize. Be careful not to take me for granted. I'm here to give you what you need, but I have a limit and you should too. And your limit should start with kicking any man that refers to you in such a disparaging way in the balls, regardless of his bank count."

"You're right," I say.

"Damn right, I'm right," he smirks. "I'm also right about loving you, but you're gonna have to love yourself. You're going to be a mother. Your baby is depending on it," he says leaning in to give me a light kiss on the lips. "Hey, I think your bruise is gone."

"Really," I say running my tongue over the spot. "I didn't notice."

"Well it is," he smiles. "Listen I need to head to campus to wrap some things up and I have to take care of something for my boss. So I'll be a little late, but we'll pick this up later."

After the impromptu heart to heart with Luke, I ate two Flintstones size bowls of cereals and now I'm in the room perusing the contract Christian left behind for me. I'm not thrilled that Amanda saw it, but I'll be able to get her on board. As I reacquaint myself with the ridiculous demands, that run the gamut of laughable to mean spirited, I get angry. Some of the pity I'd been feeling lifts and options open up and I mentally go through them.

I could go to Dr. Grace, but the cons outweigh the pros making the option less desirable. I don't want to put a wedge between Christian and his family when they'd just mended their relationships. I could pursue legal actions, and his empire would take a hit, but it wouldn't suffer long term. To that end, the court of public opinion would be swift and brutal, but would quickly wane with the next celebrity scandal. So with those factors removed from the equation that would leave Christian and I locked in a custody battle where I wouldn't stand a chance. His wealth and influence would be too much and at the end of the day I could lose my baby anyway. So that option isn't looking so good after all, but I'll keep it on the table.

The phone buzzes interrupting me from my planning and angrily I pick up to finally deal with Kate. I've been ignoring her calls and texts, but it's time to talk to her.

"Steele." I can hear the relief in her voice.

"How could you Kate," I bellow cutting to the quick, bringing an end to her jubilation.

"Ana I'm so sorry-"

"Sorry Kate," I snarl interrupting her "I trusted you, how could you betray me like that?" I whimper.

"I didn't do it intentionally. Elliot and I were talking and the next thing I know he's rushing me off the phone. And I've been calling you ever since. I wanted to give you the heads up in case he contacted you."

"Too late for that, "I mumble.

"Oh, Ana I'm so sorry. How did it go? Your voice isn't giving anything away," she says.

"Well Kate, I'm fine. At least I'm getting there. What I needed was my best friend. The best friend that flew across the country just to spend a few hours with me to make sure I would be okay, not the selfish young woman that puts her needs above everyone else," I snort.

"What can I say I was wrong so I'm going to have to take your vitriol? You picked up, but you're not ready to talk me right now so I'm going to give you more time, but just know that I love you," she says and we both start crying.

"Kate gives me a few day and we'll talk. I can't do this now. As part of my healing, I'd promised myself I wouldn't cry."

With Kate off the phone, I get back into Mama Bear mode with the sole purpose of coming up with a concrete plan to beat Christian at his own game. Two plans down, I mentally continue down the list stopping at Luke's name. Telling him the truth is out of the question after what I just witness. He would kill Christian on the spot. Running away is also out of the question. It's an inviting prospect, but I've decided it's the coward's way out besides I'm tired of running. I feel like I've been running all my life, I want a home. I want my baby to have a home.

Strolling through my texts, I search for the text Luke sent with the sonogram. I study it and I get the burning desire to hear some Sara McLaughlin and I switch from texts to iTunes. I'm going to reclaim my favorite song. But my goal is foiled; as soon as, I go to hit "Angel", my phone vibrates and I sigh.

My stepfather's name flashes on the screen. Then it hits me. "Ray." "Ray." "Ray," I say over and over. I'm almost giddy.

"Ray," I beam as hope blooms internally. Ray's the answer to my prayers. I feel like the Wizard of Oz, the solution to my problem was with me all the time I just had to open my heart to it. With his military background, he approaches a problem with tactical precision. Yep, that's what I need a tactician I gush inwardly hugging myself. He'll be objective when I give him the details and won't pass judgment on me or throttle Christian. Our relationship is one of caring and respect, he won't play the role of overprotective overhearing father causing bedlam. Yes, Raymond Steele is my answer, my saving grace. I'll meet with him when I get back to Portland.

"Ray!" I sing.

"Whoa Ana," he chuckles. Well, a hearty grunt is a chuckle for Ray Steele. "You sound so happy, you have me thinking twice about sharing this news."

"Oh," I say and my mood takes a turn as I brace myself for Ray's bad news. And for the life of me I can't think what it could be, there isn't any family that matters in our lives. Then it hits me like a well-placed barb from Christian.

"Mom," I blurt out.

"How did you know?" he asks.

"A wild guess."

"Well you're right," he says and I sit back steadying myself to hear about my mother's death.

**A/N**: Sorry I didn't have the time to edit to my specification so I apologize if they were an abundance of errors


	21. Chapter 21: Someone To Watch Over Me

Chapter 21: Someone To Watch Over Me

Fifty Shades of Grey belongs to EL James

**A/N:** Thank you for reading and taking the time to review...Please enjoy

Twenty-four hours after learning about my mother's deteriorating health, for the second time in less than four days I find myself inside a hospital. I needed the extra time to decide if I wanted to confront my mother after all these years. There's so much going on in my life right now; I wasn't sure I was ready to tackle something else so daunting.

I'd known this day would come or at least I'd prayed for it, still I was not prepared for it. On the heel of my pregnancy and the situation with Christian, this was the last thing on my radar. So here I am almost ten years after being removed from her care, standing outside my mother's hospital door. As soon as the words came out of Ray's mouth, I knew I would find myself here, so I don't know why I pretended to debate the issue. It's the moment I'd been waiting every second of the ten years for yet I am I nervous and unsure of myself. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes, swallow hard and rest my clammy palm on the closed door pushing it back slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible. I didn't want to scare her or wake her in case she was sleeping, so when the door creaks, I grimace and curse under my breath. Peeking through the small crack, I survey the room and crisis is averted. Thankfully the awful sound did not disturb her from her sleep. So I continue to push forward, widening the crack to an opening sufficient enough for me to walk inside. My face contorted I hold my breath, and I lean my back against the door slowly walking it close. But unfortunately, the inevitable creaking could not be avoided

My mother stirs, stopping me in my tracks and I pause to wait for her to settle before I start moving. When the rustling stops, I leave the door stepping further inside the small, sterile, cold room. The coldness has nothing to do with the temperature it has more to do with the energy the space is emitting. You didn't have to know anything about the woman in the bed to know she didn't have any family or friends. There are no flowers or get well cards scattered about the room, the only sign of life is coming from the red light that flashes every time the machine hooked up to her beeps. And it is that beeping sound that reminds me where I am.

However, I pause a little longer to observe her from this vantage point, and I can already see that the drugs have so ravaged her body she's barely recognizable. Gone is the woman with long brown hair flowing down her back who was vibrant and the epitome of beautiful. When I was littler, I use to think of her as my very own princess, and I would be so happy when she'd just sit and let me comb her hair. In those moments, it didn't matter that she didn't let me bring any of my dolls with us though I missed them all terribly especially Strawberry Shortcake – I had my mommy. The Fond memory brings a smile to my face, then the recollection of what happened when she'd get her fix turns it upside down. She'd change from the princess to the villain forcing me to escape to my bedroom where I would read books left behind by other children. Children whose mother bought them reading material because mine never did.

Now that I think about it, back then I doubt my mother knew I could read. It was Ray who taught me after all. And my lips curl up into a smile again when I recall the first time he caught me trying to read. Though I was barely 2, I vividly remember the look on his face when he heard me trying to sound out the words on a cereal box. I committed that expression to memory, I'd seen what approval looked like and felt like and even at that young of an age I wanted it. So I've been chasing that look and feel ever sense, much like my mother has been chasing her next high.

The thought is sobering so shaking my head; I pull myself out of the despair in my rear view only to face the same despair, in front of me. Breathing in deeply, I take slow, deliberate steps, each a reminder of the neglect. Her neglect. When I reach my mother's bedside, I hover a moment to inspect her appearance up close and personal. And it's worse than I could see from afar, she's the embodiment of a Meth Addict and I have to slap my hand over my mouth to stifle my gasp. It's clear meth became her drug of choice at the end of her life, when I was with her it was cocaine, with booze used as the chaser.

Her sunken sallow face is marred with pot marks and scabs; she looks sad. It is sad, I almost reach over to push a few strangely hairs from her forehead, but I snatch my hand back. I tell myself it's because I'm leery of touching her scarred face, but my spirit knows it's because I don't think she's deserving of my empathy. She did this to herself. As I stand in judgment of her, my mother stirs again and but this time she opens her eyes. She blinks them as if she can't trust her vision, and her mouth falls open and it is then that I see the toll the drugs have taken on her teeth. It is also when I realize my sympathy is exactly what she needs. How could've I expected this woman to care for me when she isn't capable of caring for herself. Luke's preaching of self-love is starting to resonate more and more, going from a boyfriend's rallying call to my life's mission. He's right if I can't love myself, how can I love my baby, my mom is proof of that theory.

Immobile, I gawk at her as tears trickle down her face, and she stares at me like I'm going to disappear. I've never seen my mother cry before and strangely it's not heartwarming or endearing to me. "Anastasia," she says in a faint whisper the tenor matching her frail body. It's a struggle, but she manages to lift an arm from her side and starts to raise the hand to my face. But when she sees the same level of excitement isn't reflected on it, Carla pulls her skeletal fingers back. "Ana. It is you, baby girl," she whimpers and using the same hand to try and wipe her eyes playing off my rebuff.

"Yep. Mom. It's me," I say my voice far from matching the emotion a moment like this dictates.

"Ah," she sighs batting her lashes to clear her eyes of the water she's too weak to rub away. "I can't believe I'm a weeping mess," she half whimpers and have chuckles. It stokes my ire.

I came here in good faith, partly because of my desperate need for closure, despite Luke's warning that it doesn't exist, but mainly for my unborn child. Christian is so damaged and desensitized from languishing in the darkness of his childhood he can't see his way to the light. So I'm choosing to make peace with my past; in order, that our child may have one parent that isn't tormented and is whole. Crocodile tears that should be tugging at my heartstrings are instead evoking something more visceral in me. Anger. I'm riled no matter how inappropriate or misplaced the emotion considering her health condition and where we are. My emotions have been all over the place in regards to this reunion, but I didn't anticipate hostility to be the dominant emotion. Most likely this will be the last time I will see my mother and she has to be held accountable for the pain she has inflicted upon me. So I have to seize this moment or leave more messed up than I came. Where were those tears for me? The more I think about it, I become detached from my body, and I unleash the fury I'd built up over the last ten years.

"Where were those tears when your boyfriends were fondling me?" I hiss. Her eyes widen and behind the red rims is yellow instead of white. Another effect of her hard living. It gives me a pause, but it's not enough to keep me from giving my mother her bitter pill. "Where were they when Morton started coming into my room night after night?" I seethe. By now her tears have completely dried up, and I think I see regret. But that was too hopeful and giving her too much credit. She's offended. My mother has the gall to be offended. The nerve. "I was a child," I sigh, "a 7, 8-year-old child." My voice falters and now my water is threatening to break, so I have to avert my gaze. My head comes forward; when I lock eyes with her determination is etched on my face. I want her to see my pain, not just hear it. "You stood idly by while he did things to me, no child that age should know about, less more experience." My voice is low, and the words colored by my memories of all those nights. I want her to understand the despicable things I endured and the depth of my ire.

"You're so pretty. You were a pretty baby," she sighs. "All the nurses cooed over you. Even my mother thought you were pretty, and she didn't think babies were pretty. Everyone raved about you." What? I shout in my head, and I think it's going to explode. What the heck does this have to do with anything? She's rambling. Is she delusional? Now I'm questioning my sanity for even having this discussion. Am I so blinded by my outrage that I can't see how ridiculous I'm being picking a fight with a woman this close to conking out.

"But while they loved on you, I wallowed in my pain. I'd lost the love of my life. I'd just learned about your dad. The man that I'd sacrificed so much of myself for was dead. And they wanted me to bond with a baby," she continues, and I realize she's not rambling she's giving me insights into her inner thoughts. "How could I, I was dead inside. I'd stopped existing the second they told me he was dead. I wanted to be buried with him, but I stayed behind because of you," she says in a fail attempt to raise her voice. What is that supposed to mean. I think I hear the indignation in her faint voice, and I want to give a snarky response. But I hold back sensing that she's not finish with her diatribe. Rolling my eyes upward, I listen.

"I was dead inside because he was gone, but I couldn't follow him to the grave. I couldn't even mourn his loss I had to bond with my baby. Bond with you. I had to stay back to care for you. You were part of him," she spits. Things are starting to make sense; it's becoming painfully clear. She blames me. The irony. I'm dumbfounded. "Sadly you were not enough to keep me from me. You weren't enough of him to keep the demons at bay. To bury the pain of losing him. The alcohol and drugs did that," she whispers, and she stares off into the distance.

"You're incredulous," I huff as I glare at her.

"You're so pretty," she smiles when she looks at me ignoring my put down and the discord in the room.

"Can we drop the pretty crap," I sigh. "I get it I was a pretty baby," I say in exasperation.

"Yes you were, but you're an even prettier young woman. You might have gotten that from me, but your intelligence is from your father," she says scrutinizing my face. "I've kept up with you. I saw the articles."

'Good for you. Do you want me to give you a plaque?" I snip, and I cock my head at her. "Tell me. In your effort to keep up with me, did you know I was homeless?" I say. "Huh, Carla?" I'm sardonic. She closes her eyes and seems to recoil at the revelation.

"No," she murmurs, "I didn't." For the first time, I see a genuine reaction from her. She appears to be wounded by this fact and for the first time I see a crack in her shallow veneer. "Even with all of that you've been through, look at you. You're thriving," she says.

"No Carla," I shake my head, "I'm not. I'm not thriving. I'm barely keeping my head above water," I say softly. "I'm a mess. Have you not heard anything I've said? For God sake, I'm screaming at a woman near death," I huff. "Who does that? An insane person," I say answering my own question and I let my head fall back. After arranging my thoughts into something more coherent, I bring my head forward. "For the longest time, I'd convince myself I was strong, independent, and thriving. I hid behind my educational achievement because I learned at an early age this was going to be key to for my survival. My way to get the acceptance and approval I so seek. Ray saw it, and I thought if I studied hard enough, work hard enough you would see it too. And just maybe it would make you love me." My voice trails and I stare at her letting the words soak in. "But now I know it was never meant to be. You were too busy blaming me. It's ironic when you think about it. I spent my life blaming you and this whole time you've been blaming me. Perhaps if we'd stopped and accepted responsibility for our roles in our own unhappiness maybe we could've come to terms a long time ago." I say with resignation.

"Listen, Anastasia, you are strong and resilient because you are your father's daughter. It is why you'd managed to leap all the obstacles I put in your way. But Baby girl don't live in the past. The world is littered with people young and old who hate their parent, and I'm one of them. So the choice is yours, live in the past and die in the future or let it go. If you need any persuasion which choice to make, you don't have to look any further than me. It's a lesson I wish I'd headed a long time ago. You're right I'm dying, but you still have the rest of your life. The other day, when I was going for another test racking up the bill on the tax payers, I saw a quote in the elevator that reminded of this. It read, 'Yesterday's the past, tomorrow's the future, but today is a gift-"

"That's why it's called the present," I interrupt completing the famous quote, which happens to be a favorite quote of mine. She looks at me in awe, and I give her a smirk. "Bill Keane," I volunteer.

"Huh," she contorts her skeletal face

"The author," I clarify.

"Of course you would know that," she smiles and despite the depraved condition of her body at that moment she looks like my princess.

"Don't be that impressed. It happens to be one of my favorite quotes and not a testament to my brilliance," I say.

"How did you know I was here?" she asks changing the subject.

"Ray."

"Oh," she sighs and she looks away.

"Funny, you went out of your way to besmirch his name and in the end he's the one trying to bring us together," I say, and Carla starts coughing. "Let me get you some water." I scramble to the bedside table filling the empty glass. "Here, drink this," I say helping her raise her head slightly so the glass can reach her mouth.

"Thank you," she whispers after taking a small sip and I helping her head back to the pillow setting the glass on the table. Being careful not spill any the water on her bed.

"I should get going. You need to rest. I've said my peace. Carla I truly wish you the best," I say giving her a once over before turning to leave.

"I'm the one who called Child Protective Services that night," she confesses capturing my attention.

"What did you say?" I pivot, coming closer to her bed.

"You heard me. You had to have known. What did you think, they just showed up as out of some fairy-tale. That was your problem, you always believed in make believe. Expecting me to be like characters in your books," she sighs. "It was me and your father intervening from the grave. I remember that night clearly because it was the only night I was not in a drug induced haze. I couldn't get high no matter what I did. Because I was lucid, I couldn't respond to Morton's advances. So I had a suspicion he would try to satisfy his needs with you," she says, and I feel like I'm going to throw up. Hearing a second-hand recount of that night is making me sick to my stomach. I have to take a seat in the chair next to her bed to catch my breath and swallow back the bile.

"Now it's my turn to ask. Do you need some water you look pale?" she says.

"No, I just need a moment," I say.

"Are you sure you don't want any water?"

"No, mom," I say tersely intentionally calling her mom to show the malice I have for the moniker. "I don't need water," I snap and I sit forward. "If it was you? Why didn't' you come back for me? I whisper sounding like that discarded little girl. Pathetic.

"I might have been sober enough to do for you what I should've done earlier, but that wasn't going to last forever. I wasn't ready to be a mother."

"You were already a mother. It was no longer a choice," I snarl coming to my feet. Being seated felt like I was yielding my power to her. "But you made it a choice and you chose the drugs. If protecting his legacy was the goal, you failed. You failed him; you didn't protect me," I resting my hand on the edge of her bed. "I hate to disappoint you if it's your goal to reunite with him on the other side. It's not going to happen." I whisper leaning forward, so I'm hovering as close to her face as possible bathing her in the harsh words. Never breaking eye contact, I slowly bring my body upright. Content, I swivel to leave.

"What do you want me to say Ana?" she whimpers and I pause. "Tell me what answer will make you feel better. What answer do you want from me? I've been as honest with you as I can, and your resentment for me continues to emanate from your body," she says. Her voice still weak, but there's a hint of indignation in her tone.

Inward I smile a broad, toothy smile that on the outside manifests itself in a wry smile. Her response confirms what I already know I'm wasting my time. She was never going to give me what I needed, but she didn't hold all the answers. Opening old wounds, can be like a rock skipping across the water, creating ripples. This little heart to heart is having a similar ripple effect for me; there are other issues I now need to address.

"Unbeknownst to you, I got my answer. You blame me," I say sarcastically and from the look in her eyes confirms it. "Goodbye Carla," I say for the final time.

"Ana," my mom calls in her strongest voice yet.

"Yes," I say turning to face her.

"Why did you come?" she croaks.

"I'm pregnant." My response is quick and decisive.

"You're my daughter after all," she smirks.

"Never," I say swiveling to walk confidently out of her hospital room, the ghost of my mother finally put to rest.

As soon as the door closes behind me, the confidence disappears. My body sags against the door, and I close my eyes.

"Ana," I hear and when I open my eyes, Luke is standing before me. Without saying a word, I throw my arms around his neck and bury my head on his strong, capable shoulder.

'"What are you doing here?" I whine.

"I'm here for you. I knew you would need a shoulder to cry on," he says giving me a soft kiss on the top of my head. "Come. Let me take you home. You can rest before meeting with your friends."

"No," I say lifting my head from his shoulder. "I want to go home, but not your home. My home. Portland," I say.

"Okay then. Portland here we come."

"Hey," Luke says moving my hair over my shoulder. I peel the side of my face from the airplane window, and I make eye contact with him.

"Yeah," I murmur.

"We're half way to Portland, and you've barely spoken, so I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I am," I say and I squeeze his hand. "Thank you for the first class ticket. First Class is far better than coach," I smile.

"You're welcome. You can pay me later," he winks

"I gotta feeling it'll be more than the cost of the ticket."

"Maybe," he smirks.

"When we arrive in Portland, I want to take a cab home."

"Why?"

"I don't know," I shrug. "It just feels right."

"Okay," he concedes without putting up a fight."

"Thank you for not fighting me on this."

"You're welcome. Do you want to talk about what happened with your mother?"

"Not yet I'm still trying to digest it."

"I understand. But I can say, you look different. More resolute."

"Good. I'm glad you noticed. I feel like me but better."

As soon as, the cab pulls in front of my building, I feel vindicated in my decision. Returning to Portland ahead of schedule was the right thing for me. Parking myself to his side, I wait for the Uber Driver to remove my luggage then I march to the door with them in toe. As I struggle with the key, the door flings open and Elliott is standing before me bare chested.

"Ana," he yelps pulling me to his chest. "What a surprise. Kate didn't tell me you were coming home today," he says setting me back down on my feet.

"Oh my, God Ana," Kate shrieks stopping me from responding to Elliot. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming home early? I wasn't expecting you until Saturday," she says giving me a big hug.

"Sorry Kate, it was a last minute," I say unfurling her arms from around my neck. "Can I come in first and I'll tell you all about it," I smirk.

"Yeah Kate let the girl in and stop crushing my niece or nephew," Elliot teases and his lightheartedness over the baby is refreshing.

"I wasn't hurting the baby," she snips swatting him on his toned abs. "Besides you can't talk. You left the girl on the doorstep of her own apartment," she jokes throwing her arm across my shoulders ushering me inside. "Make yourself useful, get her bags," she says waving a hand at him.

"Elliot?" I mouth.

"Oh, I explain that later," she whispers.

"Where's Luke?" she whisper.

"Later," I whisper and we both start giggling like old times.

"Hey, do you two think you can stop whispering long enough to tell me where to put these," Elliott calls.

"In my room," I say and I maneuver to get from under Kate's before turning to face him.

"Okay, Ana I have your bags waiting for you. I put them on the bed to make it more convenient," he says picking his shirt from the back of our sofa.

"Oh Elliot, thank you. That was so thoughtful," I whine, and I jump from the sofa to hug him.

"I'm sure my brother will come around," he whispers in my ear as he gives me a warm hearty embrace. The love and support he's heaving on me is taking some of the stings out of Christian's rejection.

"Thank you for saying that. You're going to make me cry," I say removing my arms from his waist.

"Please don't. I don't want your friend yelling at me again," he teases pointing a chin at Kate.

"Elliot Grey, stopping talking about me," Kate screams as she stands up to defend herself.

"On that note, I'm outta here," he says and he gives my shoulder a squeeze before walking to Kate taking her in a passionate kiss. It's so hot I feel like a voyeur.

The blush is creeping up Kate's face, and as soon as the door closes behind Elliot, I'm going to corner her about him.

"Soooo," I say as we walk back to the sofa.

"Hm," she shrugs pretending ambivalence and we plop down on the sofa. "What can I say? He came over to apologize and the next thing you know we're on top of each other," she says matter a factly. "Enough about me. Can I get you anything?"

"No, I had enough liquids on the plane and I'm not hungry."

"Okay. Now your turn. Where's Luke?"

"Before we go there. I want to apologize. I overreacted. While I'm not happy that you told Elliot before I had a chance to tell Christian, I was wrong. You were in an awkward position."

"Ana," she pouts. "I'm the one who should apologize. I have a big mouth. It was your story to tell, not mine."

"Let's forget about it. The truth is out there, and it's for the best." I say, and we fall into each other's arms.

"So is it too soon for me to ask about Christian's response?" she murmurs over my shoulders and I release her.

"Yep," I say releasing her and pulling a leg under me.

"Okay then let's hear about Luke," she says and she mirrors my sitting position.

"He's good. I asked him to give me some time to get caught up at home. But don't worry you'll get a chance to meet him tomorrow.

"Goody," she says clapping her hand like a schoolgirl.

I cock my head at her. "I have some more interesting news."

"Oh yeah."

"I saw my mother," I say.

"Your mother," she repeats the word like I didn't have one of those. Like I was really dropped off by a stork.

"Yeah, I know its crazy after all these years."

"How? Where?" she inquires.

"Coincidentally she ended up in a hospital where I just happen to be doing my off-campus studies. Go figure. Ray let me know."

"And how did it go?

"Not quite the way I'd imagined. But in the ended it was better than I'd hope."

"I'm glad. You look so much stronger than when I saw you a few days ago," she says.

"I feel stronger. I feel like I finally have a handle on how to move forward with my pregnancy.

"So how does Luke fit into the equation?" She asks and I sigh.

"Of course you had to ask the hard question. But I'm going to put that on the back burner and give you some red meat. Lulu came to see me."

"Girl," she mumbles hitting me on the leg. "You should've lead with that the nugget," she says and unfurls her leg to get more comfortable.

"It's not all that. She was heading God's knows where and I met her during a layover. There's not much new to tell. I was just happy that we had a chance to talk face to face about the baby. She's still disappointed but is more accepting."

"Wow, Steele the last few days have been a whirlwind for you. I'm in awe that you're still standing," Kate says.

"Thank you, Kate," I say patting her on the hand. "I'm proud of myself too. All the crying is for the birds, and the emotional roller-coaster got to be too much. To be honest, I think the prenatal vitamins deserve some credit. My hormones have been sorted. I'm started to feel more like the old me.

"Good for you. I think that deserves a drink," she says rising from the sofa.

"Isn't it a little early in the morning?" I say when she's standing.

"For you maybe, but I need one," she smirks.

"Kate," I call out.

"Yeah?" she screams from the kitchen.

"I'm going to my room. To unpack and get some rest. I'm pregnant you know," I yell back so she can hear me in the kitchen, but she surprises when she cracks the door poking her head out.

"Yeah I know. But I'm not Luke so that won't work on me," she smirks.

"Get your drink," I giggle as I walk in my room

After putting my things away and taking a warm shower, I sit on the bed with my legs tucked under me. I scroll through my phone until I find her number and without thinking I press the green icon before my courage runs away.

"Hello."

"Mrs. Jones this is Anastasia Steele," I say holding my breath waiting for her reaction.

"Ana. Oh my God sweetheart how are you? It's so good to hear your voice," she says, and my relief is immediate.

"I'm good. Are you near Christian?" I ask right away.

"No, I'm not. Mr. Grey is not here. Were you trying to reach him?"

"No, I wanted to talk to you. I'm about to ask you something inappropriate so I will understand if you say no." I pause and just go for it. "Can you give me Christian's cell phone number?"

Despite her initial misgiving, Ms. Jones gives me the number. Now all I have to do is dial it. While my courage is still hanging on by a thread, I take in a deep breath and punch in a number. Saying a little prayer after each one.

"Grey," he huffs.

"Christian its Anastasia." I identify myself because I had the good sense to block my number. The phone goes silent. I can't even hear him breathing. But I stick to my script and forge ahead. "We need to talk," I say and still nothing on the other end, so I continue. "By talk I mean not yelling at each other. Talk to each other like adults," I say waiting for him to respond. After what felt like a lifetime with the silence the phone goes dead. He hangs up on me without saying a word. At least he didn't yell. You have to count your wins where you can get them.

"Well, that went better than I thought," I mumble to myself as I stare at my phone.

.


	22. Chapter 22: I am woman

Chapter 22: I Am Woman

FSOG belongs to EL James.

A/N: Thank you for reading, following and reviewing …Please Enjoy

The young woman at the door is giving me a glimpse into Christian Grey's world. Her eyes are perusing my body like I'm Play Girl's playmate of the month. If only I could get Ana to look at me with the same longing, it would make my lifetime not only my day. Thank heavens for a healthy ego, I know I'm handsome and my body is in shape, luckily I have an equally healthy dose of modesty that keeps it from inflating to the level of cockiness. Where I start to believe, I'm God's gift to women. That's Grey's territory; still I'd take more than the cursory glance from Ana to help substantiate my ego's claim.

"Good morning," I say getting the young woman's attention. "I'm Luke and my guess is you're Kate." Then I extend my hand to her.

"Sorry. Yes, I am," she says batting her lashes too much for this early in the morning as she takes my proffered hand. "Nice to meet you. Ana didn't tell me you were coming by so early," she says releasing my hand and inviting me inside.

Crossing the threshold, I walk further into the apartment taking in the humble abode. The decor lets you know two women live here; on the flip side the size makes you question it. My apartment in Boston was larger and it was the only me. The fact that it had another bedroom for a second person is beside the point. Satisfied that I've seen all of the public space, I plaster on the signature Christian Grey panty-dropping smile before I turn to face Kate. After all even with my back to her, I felt her emerald eyes boring a hole into me. As soon as, I meet her gaze Kate's lips part and she's speechless. I'd be damn the shit works. I'll have to let the fellas know it's not a myth, the fucking smile does hypnotize women.

"Kate," I say. Suddenly my voice is deeper and smoother playing into the suave persona. To my amusement, she has not moved and I'm almost tempted to wave my hand in front of her.

"Huh," she says catching herself and she has to smile. "Yes. You're here for Ana," she mumbles her eyes zooming in on a spot behind me, so I twist my body following the direction of her eyes. "She's still sleeping I think, but her room is the second door on the right. You can just go in. I'm sure she wouldn't mind," she says as she starts walking in the direction she's now pointing. I follow but stop shy of opening the closed door. "Sorry, I've got to get going. Can you please let Ana know I had an early appointment. I was going to leave her a note. If you want some coffee, it's in the kitchen. Ana hates coffee so you can have hers. Make yourself comfortable. I'm running late," she rambles not stopping once to let me get a word in edgewise. It's laughable that she's acting so affected by me when Ana has boasted of how unaffected she is by men. It's usually them throwing themselves at her feet. "Luke," she purrs interrupting my thought. And when I turn to face her I get the first view of Temptress Kate.

Her short skirt is barely covering her ass as she bends over the back of the sofa and I have to swallow the lump in my throat. I'm only a hu-Man.

"Yes," I say not giving anything away.

"Nice to finally meet you," she murmurs when she stands with a briefcase and a purse in her hands.

"Likewise," I say and she gives me the female equivalent of the panty-dropping smile before sashaying her perfectly round ass out the door.

I shake my head and smile inside at her antics. Innocent flirting is good for a man's ego. I won't lie, Kate is attractive with a tight little body, but she has nothing over the woman behind these doors. Hopefully, she's still asleep; I want to surprise her. So I slowly turn the knob and my wish is granted. Ana is sprawled across the full-size bed, she's on her front and her arms are dangling over the edge. Her normally beautiful brown tresses are in a disheveled mess on her head. And I can't help but chuckle when I think back on her declaration to me to not let her sleep with it wet. Looking at it now, I can only surmise that she did just that. Even in her current state, she's still the most beautiful woman in the world and I want nothing more than to be inside her. But that'll have to wait, going for a run is the priority. She needs the exertion to help work out her frustration from the last few days.

Walking to the bed, I rest a knee on the edge and slowly pull the covers back. She's in deep sleep so the subsequent dip and cover movement doesn't disturb her. So I continue with my prank. Reaching my hand inside her pajama bottom I find the waistband of her panties pulling it into a v up the crack of her ass. Essentially giving her a wedgie. Then several things happen at once, Ana yelps, her head bolts up, and a hand flies to her ass. And I can't help but laugh, she's surprised, fuming, and groggy, but as cute as ever.

"Luke Sawyer," she screams when her eyes lock on me. Sleep is still in her voice so it isn't that strong or threatening. "Did you just give me a wedgie?" Her eyes move from me to her backside where she sees the blue waistband of her simple panties peeking from the waistband of her sleeping bottom.

"Yes," I chuckle. "You shouldn't have any on," I smirk and she rolls her eyes at me before flopping face down back to the bed.

"I was in my bed alone," she mumbles against her sheet as she reaches a hand back and angrily rearranges her clothing. "What are you doing here anyway?" she grumbles grabbing the pillow from under her head slapping it on top of it. "It's too early," she groans. Her voice is muffled by the pillow.

"No it's not," I say and pull the pillow from her head so I can see her grumpy face, "so get up. We're going for a run," I say more forcibly and I lean down to give her a peck on the forehead, but I get a mouthful of hair instead. Coming back upright, I pull the residual strands from my mouth before coming to my feet. Ana is not happy with me, but after some hemming and hawing, and words that I'm sure were expletives she flips to her front. The first step in getting her from the bed.

"Fine," she huffs. Glaring at me and in one clumsy motion, Ana bolts upright and throws her legs over the edge of the bed. When her feet hit the floor, I step back giving her room to move and in amusement I watch her storm to her bathroom.

"While you get ready, I'll make you some tea," I say to her doing my best to stifle a laugh. She's so pissed. I'd known she was not a morning person, but I don't recall seeing her this grumpy.

She pauses at the threshold of the bathroom and rests her hands against the doorframe. "No. I don't have any that's decaffeinated," she says groggily as she pushes off the frame to rub her eyes. Then making sure she has my attention she slams the door in my face. I chuckle at the tantrum, as I hurry to the kitchen to make something to wake my girlfriend up. She's right she has tons of tea, but none of them decaf, but serendipitously I find something I can work with.

"Okay I hope you're satisfied," she grumbles as she drags into the kitchen fully dressed for jogging.

"Very," I say handing her the mug with my concoction.

"What's this?" she ask as she takes it from me. "It smells good," she says fanning the rising steam to her nose.

"Mint tea. You were right, there was no decaf, so I made you tea from scratch. I found some fresh mint lying around. Added hot water. Voila mint tea. "

"I'm impressed. Who knew you were MacGyver," she jokes as she brings the hot liquid to her lips.

"Wait you may want to add some honey or sugar."

"No," she nods. "I'm good," she says before taking a sip. "Mmm, this is good," she hums.

"I'm glad you like it. It's the tea one of our housekeepers use to make for my mother, but this is my first time making it. So I'm glad it meets your approval."

She cocks her head at me with a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "This is the second time you've made something for me from scratch that is delicious. I beginning to think you're holding back on your culinary skills."

"I can promise I'm not. This is all I got," I say holding my arms up. Putting them back down I reach over to pick my coffee up from the counter. "Come on let's sit," I say and I put my hand on her lower back leading her to a chair at the small table tucked in the corner of their small kitchen.

"Thank you for the tea," she says as she sits in the chair I've pulled out for her.

"You're welcome," I say walking to my seat. "By the way I met your roommate."

"And what did you think of her?"

"She's cool."

"Kate is not a morning person so I'm shock she was a wake."

"She had an early morning appointment of which she wanted me to let you know."

"Okay. That explains it," she says still trying to rub sleep out of her eyes.

"You must have gone to bed late last night."

"Actually I was in pretty early. I kept waking up."

"Jet lag," I say and I take a sip of my coffee. "Lucky for you exercise is the best cure."

"I bet," she snaps and takes a sip of her tea. "Speaking of which we better getting going. If I finish all of this, we'll have to stop every five minutes."

"Okay. I'm almost done," I say and down the remaining coffee.

When we stand, I walk up to Ana and take her chin between my thumb and forefinger. "I love you," I whisper and give her a soft kiss on the lips. It's a makeup for the one I messed up on earlier. I release her chin and smile because she still has her eyes closed. "I don't know if your eyes are closed because you're so enthralled by my kiss or because you're sleepy."

"Both," she cracks, but she can't hold her laughter. "It's all you," she teases and throws her arms around my neck. "You keep getting more and more charming."

"Does that mean I wasn't charming before?"

"No, silly goose," she giggles and removes her arms from around my neck. Grabbing my hand she leads me out the back door. She informs me that there's a path we can pick up in a few blocks.

"I'm so tired," I pant as we round the corner back to the apartment.

"We have only a few blocks left," he says. I hate him because after four smiles his breath is still not labored.

"I hate you," I pant and pick up my pace pounding the ground harder when the apartment comes into view.

"Are you trying to beat me, little girl?" Luke shouts as he catches up to me.

We end up at the front door at the same time. I fumble with the lock so Luke takes the keys from me opening the door himself. Soon as we walk inside I make a beeline for the bathroom.

"I feel so much better," I say walking from the bedroom to rejoin him.

"Good," he smiles. "Hey, let's go to the Diner we passed. I want to feed you." Pulling his damp towel from around his neck and wrapping it around his hand Luke walks up to me.

"I'm not hungry," I say.

"I am," he says. Unwrapping the hand towel and bringing it back around his neck. Luke then positions himself at my back where he starts skimming his fingertips over the bare skin on my arm.

I moan and let my back lean against his front. "What exactly are you hungry for?" I purr.

"Right now pancakes and bacon. But later on fucking you," he grunts and I feel it down there. Resting his hands on my shoulders Luke spins me so I'm facing him. "Come on let's get out of here before I reverse the order and fuck you first."

"If you insist. Give me a minute I want to freshen up. I'm not a guy like you."

"Thank the Lord for small favors." He winks and rolling my eyes I make my exit. I take a bird bath, change my top and in less than a minute I'm ready. "Baby, I thought I would drive so we can go to my place afterwards. I need to change." He's shouting so I can hear him but I'm already walking out of the room.

"That'll work," I say startling him.

I sigh in contentment.. Then I tilt my head back and rolls my eyes up to get a look at his face. "This feels good. It's been a long time since we've just sat around and done nothing."

"I agree. It's been a tough few days for you, so you deserve this down time," he says. "So what's going on with William and Kate?"

"Apparently they had another child," I say deadpan. "So how's 'Go set a watchman'"?

"Good. I think I still prefer 'How to kill a mockingbird'. Then again I'm only 10 pages in," he says.

"Well, can you hurry up, I want to read it next."

"I will. I have all next week."

"Luke. You know you'll have to go back to work sometime?"

"Maybe."

"You don't have to babysit me, I'll be fine. I start classes on Monday. And I have work and volunteering to keep me busy," I say.

I hear the book close as he angles his head to get a look in my face. "I see. But, don't you think the volunteering is too much?" he asks.

"I don't think so but since this is my first time being pregnant, I won't know until I try," I say sarcastically

"Touché," he says and he sits back up.

"What about you?" I ask

"Me? I've never been pregnant either," he says.

"Ha-ha." Then I give him an elbow that lands to close to his privates.

"Watch it," Luke warns.

"Sorry. I mean aren't you ready to get back to a regular schedule?"

"I'll be fine with work, right now I'm finding it difficult to leave you."

"I know. I feel the same way. I'd gotten use to spending all my time with you. Staying with you, "I say

"Well, we have another week together. So we can take advantage of the time."

"Are you staying with me because you want to or because you're worried about me?"

"A little of both," Luke says

"Thank you for your honesty, but so you know you can't be with me all the time so you're going to have to trust me. I know that's hard, considering you've only known me under distress. At my worse. But believe it or not, I am capable of taking care of myself," I say rolling my eyes up trying to see his reaction.

"I know you can take care of yourself. This is more about me. I'm suffering from separation anxiety I guess," he says leaning down to give me a peck on the head.

"Ah," I sigh and I let the magazine fall to the floor. Then I shift so my front is partially on his front. "Baby that's so sweet," I murmur and I bring my arms around his waist the best I can considering the awkward position. Contemplating what I'm about to say next, I burrow into his chest. "I called him," I say casually and Luke goes still. Then he balances the book on the back of the sofa.

"And what did he say?" His voice is cold. He's mad.

"Nothing."

"Damn it, Ana," he snarls and he brings his hands forward rubbing circles on my back. "Why do you set yourself up to have your feelings hurt by the guy? I get it, your baby has his DNA, but you can't make him be his dad. Nature has made him the father, but he has to want to nurture to be a dad. So at this point, the most you can hope for from him is financial support for the baby. I'm not trying to be harsh, I want to spare your feelings and manage your expectations," he says.

"I am managing my expectations. I called him because, I feel in control of the situation. Maybe your theory on nature verses nurture is right on, still I owe it to this child to do everything in my power to give him or her the shot at having the father they deserve. Which means I'm going have to put my feelings aside. Up until now everything has been on his term, well I want to have my say," I confess and let the beating of his heart sooth me.

"Okay," he says and he grabs my shoulders lifting me so I can see his face. "But I swear Ana if he upsets you again, I will find out who he is myself and kick his ass." Luke hisses and my eyes widen at his threat.

I think I've open a can of worms that I won't be able to contain. I don't want him to accidentally stumble upon Christian's identity, before I have a chance to be honest with him. But that can't happen until I get all this baby drama worked out with Christian.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Let it play out. But you can rest assure he has upset me for the last time," I say and I crawl up his chest to give him a kiss on the lips. Sliding back down his body, I turn my back to his front.

"I'm going to trust you. I think I'm going to like this Helen Reddy I Am Woman version of you," he says and he puts his arms over my shoulders. Reaching up I grab his dangling hands and start singing I am woman hear me roar. Luke starts laughing uncontrollably.

"Baby, I think it is_ I am woman watch me grow_," he chuckles

"Whatever," I shrug and go harder. And like he always does he joins in with the singing. Needless to say, he has a wonderful singing voice.

"What the hell is that sound," Kate screeches as she walks in on our singing. "Oh God Luke, please don't encourage her," Kate grumbles as she closes the door and tosses her stuff on the table at it.

"You can't blame this on me," he sighs. "She was this way when I met her," he jokes.

"Maybe. But it's your fault for not setting her straight," Kate teases as she kicks off her heels on her way towards us. "Move over," she huffs shoving my legs up which forces Luke to do the same with his giving her the space to sit. She plops down and I roll my eyes at her.

"Why don't you sit with us Kate?" I mumble and I'm sure she heard but Kate chooses to ignore the snarky comment.

"Hi again," she says to Luke.

"Hi Kate," Luke says and I can't help notice that he tenses a little. But I let it slide for now.

"Can we not sing anymore Helen Reddy?" she growls, collapsing against the back of the sofa.

"Well, how was your day?" I'm sardonic.

"Lousy," she pouts and as I'm about to investigate why my phone beeps.

I check the texts and they are from Amanda; funny clips from YouTube. I laugh hysterically at each then I share them with Luke first then Kate.

"Lame," she says tossing the phone at me, before leaping to her feet.

"Sorry Miss Grumpy Pants we liked them. Ha," I say. Then behind me I sense that Luke's doing something mischievous so I tilt my whole body to find him making the axed gesture across his neck and mouthing "No I didn't" to Kate. "Traitor," I giggle swatting at his shoulder.

"I'll be back I'm going to change," Kate says.

When she returns from her room, Kate's in a better mood and this time instead of sitting on the sofa, she perches her butt on the side chair."

"So Luke where are you staying?" she asks.

"I happen to have a buddy that lives here so I hit him up."

"Interesting," she purrs leaning forward resting her elbows on her knees, "so is he single?" I sigh in exasperation and press the back of my head into Luke's rock hard abs.

She's on the prowl

"No, he's not," Luke say.

"Thank goodness," I mumble.

"Just so you know I heard that," Kate retorts.

"Good," I say.

"Hey. I just had an idea. Why don't we go clubbing? I can use a good time and Luke you won't have to spend the rest of night listening to Ana herd cats," she says.

"What do I get out of it?" I asks

"Not hear yourself herd cats?" she says raising her shoulders and I reach behind Luke for a pillow throwing it at her.

"Luke, get your crazy girlfriend," she squeals as she brings her arms up to block her face. Luke chuckles before he pushes up off him.

"Ladies as fun as this looks I'm going," Luke says as he sits upright. "Kate going out sounds like a perfect idea. So I'll get dressed and pick you ladies up in a few hours," he says as he comes to his feet.

"Hey Kate bring me an apple too," I yell to her in the kitchen. "Please," I add

"Here you go," she says handing me my fruit after setting my water on the table.

"Thank you," I say and I stare at her glass suspiciously. "Kate that looks like wine to me."

"It is," she confirms taking a sip. "While you were gone I got used to having a drink to wind down the day."

"Well, yesterday you had a drink in the morning."

"Don't worry Ana. You're oversensitive because you've just seen your mother. But I'm not your mother," she says and to ease the bite of her words, Kate swats my leg. "So you and Luke are too cute together," she says changing the subject.

"Yeah. He's a cutie," I say taking a bite of my apple.

"Cutie," she huffs. "That man kicked cutie's ass to the door and locked it. Luke is a bonafide hunk. You should've seen me this morning I was a bumbling idiot around him. If he were mine, I wouldn't let him out of my bed," she giggles and takes a sip of her wine. "Girl you must be a pretty damn good lay to keep that man smiling," she smirks.

"Kate, why do you have to be so crass?"

"Come on Steele you can't play innocent anymore that ship has long sailed. I saw his hard on and if the print in his jeans is an indication he has a big dick."

"Kate," I yelp and jump from the sofa. "I can't listen to this. I will not talk about my boyfriend's body part with you," I shriek and she grabs my hand before I can storm off.

"Hold your horses sit down," she says jerking me hard enough to make me fall back down on the sofa. "Seriously you two look good together," she says and I relax a bit.

"Okaaay." I'm hesitant to let my guard down with Kate, I'm sure she has more lewd comments in that brain of hers.

"You can relax," she waves. "Eat your apple. I'll play nice," she smirks. "He makes you happy. I've never seen you so relaxed around a guy. With Jose, you were never truly present. I'd never found you and Jose giggling on the sofa. Sure you laughed with him but he never made you laugh the way Luke does. With him, you laugh with your whole body, not just your face."

"That's sweet Kate. I don't know, it's like he loves me because of my faults. Unlike Jose or even Christian, who judged me because of them."

"That's deep Ana. You really feel that way about Christian"

"Definitely. He's guiltier of it than Jose. He's stuck on the little girl I was, and not the woman I am. I don't blame him I was guilty of the same thing. So in love with the young man from that night, I couldn't let myself see the man he has become. But I've moved forward, this baby has forced me to put our relationship into perspective," I say.

"So you're not in love with him anymore?"

"I don't love how I feel when I'm around him. So how can I be in love with a man who makes me feel unlovable?"

"Fair. So what does that mean for you and Christian raising this baby together?" she asks

"Kate, a lot of parents that are not in love or together, raise healthy well-adjusted children."

"Good luck with that little fairy tale. You think it's going to be that easy with Christian Grey?" she asks.

"Wait a minute aren't you the woman who talked me out of running away or naming Luke as the father."

"Yes I'm the same person and I did that for you. You wouldn't have been able to live with any of those untruths. Just because those two options were fraught with problems, doesn't mean you have to walk blindly into an ill-advised union with Grey."

"What choice do I have Kate? His baby is growing inside of me. I'm connected to him for the rest of my life whether I want it or not. That's my truth."

"Well I'm here, Luke is here for you, and even Lulu when she's not zooming across the globe. So you don't have to make a rash decision," she says putting her wine glass down pulling me into an embrace. "Now let's stop all this negative talk. As it is, the poor kid is going to be born with a complex," she says releasing me. "With Christian Grey as the father and me as the Godmother, he going to need therapy," she teases.

"Whoohoo" I whistle waving my hand in the air. "Excuse me, I'm the mom," I say sarcastically. "I think that trumps Godmother," I smirk.

"I guess it does," she laughs. "So let's talk about something I can have a say about. The name."

"Sorry, that's covered too. Addison. For a boy or girl."

"It's still early can we at least discuss other options. Like maybe Autumn, Copper or Dakota?"

"Nope, too yuppie."

"Okay. Have you chosen the middle names too?" she asks.

"No."

"Good. Then give me more time to think of one and we'll revisit the topic."

"Sorry, I forgot I do have a boy's middle. Max"

"So Addison Maxwell?" she asks.

"No, just Max. Addison Max Steele or Max Addison Steele"

"Huh," she sighs. "I'm willing to bet a billion dollars that won't go over well."

"So this is the infamous bar I've heard so much about?" Luke says peering up at the nondescript structure as we walk to the entrance.

"Yes. Funny after the bars we visited at Harvard, it doesn't seem so impressive," I shrug, "Kate wanted to go to the chicer Blaze, but I'm underage," I whisper.

"This is good," he says and he gives me a shy smile.

"Ground rules," Kate says as she shimmies up to the entrance to join us. "I'm not going to be treated like the third wheel so stop the whispering."

Taking her words to heart, Luke pays for Kate too then put his fists on either side of his waist creating a half circle for us both of us to put our arms through.

Inside is crowded and loud and I'm reminded of my last experience here. Since Luke is next to me, I'm not too affected but it's in the back of mind.

"Are you okay and don't lie to me. I just felt you shiver." He speaks loudly so I can hear over the music.

"I'm fine," I shout.

"Ana you're lying. So spill," he says getting in my face.

"Okay." I cave and Luke stares at me pensively. "I remembered what happened the last time I was here."

"Is the fucker here?" he screams as he agitatedly scans the room.

"What's going on, you two are acting weird," Kate yells.

I lean over to whisper in her ear. "I told Luke about Nick."

"Hey, don't worry about Nick. He took the week off to take care of family issues. So let's have some fun," she shouts in my ear before first grabbing my hand then Luke's dragging us into the crowd with her.

After my initial uneasiness, I'm relaxed and enjoying myself. Plus I'm elated that Luke and Kate are getting along so well, of which I'm sure is precipitated by the alcohol. We've been here less than an hour and already they've downed more shots than I can count on my two hands. Kate is loopy and like she always does when she gets too much alcohol in her, she's overly flirty. Too bad for her, the target is my boyfriend and to his credit, Luke is being respectful of both us. He's giving her attention, but not crossing the line. Poor guy.

"What's the look for?" he asks nudging my shoulder.

"Nothing. I'm just happy that my boyfriend and best friend are getting along." I smile.

"Yep. Kate's a trip." He's derisive.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask.

"Did someone say my name?" Kate chimes in before Luke can respond. Then before we can answer her, she's on her feet and demanding that we join her.

And like soldiers, we heed her command following her to the dance floor. This is going to be fun because Luke can dance and Kate can also move. Which means, I'm the odd man out, so I'll have to hide behind them.

As soon as, we step on the dance floor the DJ starts a new set with "Watch Me," by Silento and we whip, do the nae nae or should I say they whip and do the nae nae... I sway. It is the beginning of a long play list that Luke and Kate master with every popular dance move in the book. Unbeknownst to them I've been relegated to watching, as is most of the crowd. That is why when the set ends they are sweating profusely, and I'm barely glistening. However, they don't notice because the crowd is erupting in applause and chants for them. Kate is basking in the glory of her adoring fans while Luke is doing his best to yield himself from them.

"Come," he says cupping my elbow leading me out of the fray. "Sit, you need to rest," he says when we reach our booth that surprisingly hasn't been occupied.

"Luke I'm fine."

"You're not fine. You're pregnant."

I huff, but before I can chastise him, Kate comes bouncing up.

This is getting old.

"Damn Ana. Your boyfriend can move." She's so out of breath she can hardly talk, but she can whip her head at Luke. Her damp strawberry blonde hair almost smacking me in the face as she does. Her eyes raking over his seated form alerts me that Kate has gone into full man-eater mode so I need to sober her up real quick. And to the dismay of my boyfriend, I remove my pregnant body from the booth swiftly coming to my feet and like he'd done I grab Kate by her elbow.

Okay, maybe he was a little gentler.

"I'm going to take Kate outside," I yell.

"What?" she yells flipping her hair over one shoulder while Luke glowers at me? He doesn't have to speak his look says it all. "I don't need to go outside," Kate screeches jerking her arm from me. I know he wants to react, but he doesn't.

"Yes you do," I shout back. This time I grab her more forcibly and drag her behind me.

When we come back, Luke is fuming but at least I've gotten through to Kate. Like a petulant child, she gets into her vacated seat and Luke slides over so I can join him on our bench.

"Here's water for you," he snarls setting a bottle in front of me before sliding one across the table for Kate. "And one for you," seethes.

"Thank you," she pouts, and immediately opens the bottle. While, I run my hand up and down the plastic bottle capturing the condensation on the outside.

"Stop doing that," he says between gritted teeth.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Yes. But right now I'm imagining your hands doing the same thing to my dick," he whispers in my ear so only I can hear.

"Oh," I say. I wasn't going for innuendos, the coolness felt good against my hand in the warm room.

"Don't look so relieved. I'm still angry. You put yourself at risk?" he growls.

"How?" I ask and he turns so his whole body is facing me.

"Your friend could've hit you in the stomach. You have to remember that you have a baby growing inside of you. So you can't be so careless." He sounds like a Neanderthal, but I'm so touched by his thoughtfulness I can't be mad.

"I love you, Luke Sawyer," I whisper and he closes his eyes.

"I love you too," he says when he opens them. The club is filled to the brim with patrons, the music is thumping, and my best friend is across from us, but at this moment it's just the two of us. Kate didn't want to be a third wheel.

Too late.

Kate clears her throat, but we don't stop staring dreamily into each other's eyes. "Okey-dokey, I'm gonna go dance," she says and I only wave a hand at her.

"Perhaps we should go after," Luke says

"She'll be fine. This isn't her first rodeo."

"I thought you were worried about your friend. Isn't she drunk?"

"Yes, but that wasn't the only reason I was worried. Kate is always drunk when she goes out," I say. "She was starting to act inappropriately towards you." A wry smile plays on his lips breaking the romantic spell.

"You're jealous?"

"I wouldn't say that. I-"

"I would," he says breaking in. "Come on," he says gently pushing me from the booth. When we come to our feet, he puts his hands on my waist pulling me to his chest. "You don't have to be jealous of any woman including Kate. You're it for me," he says against my hair. Then taking my hand he leads me to the dance floor where we find Kate, who is pulling an Ana. Dirty dancing with some loser I don't recognize.

We end the night line dancing to "Wobble", by V.I.C. Finally a dance where I can show my chops. As Kate, Luke and I sing out loud, we wobble putting some English on it. Even I'm getting down and waving my hands in the air like I just don't care.

Giggling like young people with no care in the world we walk off the dance floor. Okay, I walk, Kate and Luke stammer. I'm the designated driver, so Luke hands me his keys and I drive the short distance to the apartment. When we reach the apartment, Luke is busy with Kate while I supervise. Once inside she stammers to her room without saying good night.

"Goodnight Kate," I yell. She murmurs something as she waves her hand at me.

As soon as her door closes, Luke pins me against the wall. "Finally. I have you alone," he breathe against my mouth and automatically I part my lips. He sticks his tongue inside and I can taste each shot, beer, and wine he'd had on his tongue. It's a heady mix and I feel intoxicated. Not by the hint of the alcohol on his lips, but by the heat coming from his body.

"My room," I moan in his mouth. Wrapping his arm around my waist Luke lifts me so my feet are off the ground and he carries me to my bedroom. There's no sign of his drunkenness, his pace is fast but deliberate. I'm sure he's worried about hurting me. About hurting the baby.

Behind the closed door in the sanctity of my room, Luke doesn't waste any time getting us naked. "Sorry to be so impatient, but I haven't been inside you in days," he grunts as he swoops me up carrying me to the bed.

With me in his arm, Luke grabs the cover pulling it back before he lays me down. Then I feel the bed dips as he crawls between my waiting legs. Panting with need. Need for him, my butt levitates from the bed before he's even touched me down there.

"Please," I groan. "Now. I want you now," I pant.

Standing on his knees, Luke stares at my needy body, as he strokes his cock making me crave him more. Pushing my legs up, he leans over me and lines up his erection with my entrance. But instead of pushing it in, he rubs the head up and down my slit.

"Yes," I moan and writhe.

"You're so warm and wet," he groans. Keeping his cock at the edge of my entrance, he breathes over my breasts.

"Oh, Luke please," I beg.

"I will," he teases as he continues rubbing his head along my folds.

And he's about to slide into me, putting both of us out of our misery but my door opens. Luke rolls of me immediately and simultaneously I come up on my elbow

"Kate," I shriek as I struggle to cover us up.

"I heard the noise and I wanted to join the party," she murmurs and to my horror she continues into the room.

"Let me, Luke," whispers and he yanks the top sheet from the bed to wrap around his waist so he's not exposed to Kate. "Come on Kate, I'll help you back to your room." The sheet somehow secured around his waist, Luke puts his hands on her shoulders leading her out of my bedroom.

When they are gone, I collapse back to the bed and cover my eyes with my forearm. Did that just happened? Did Kate just walk in on me during sex? Was it a mistake or intentional? "Oh God," I moan aloud. Was she hoping for a threesome? Surely I'm having a nightmare. I remove my arm to stare at the ceiling and that is how Luke finds me when he returns. The bed dips as he climbs back on it.

"Now where were we," he whispers as he nuzzles against my neck.

"I'm sorry, my libido has disappeared." He lifts his head from the area at my throat.

"Don't. She's drunk. In the morning, she will be so humiliated. That is if she remembers. So don't let her ruin our night," he says and he moves his hand to my wetness forcing my legs apart. Then he positions himself between them. "Let me help you find your libido," he pants and he sticks one finger then another in me. Once my libido has been located, I bring my legs up and open wider to him. Smirking he falls over me and slides into me.


	23. Chapter 23: Wicked Games

Chapter 23 : Wicked Games

**Disclaimer:** **Fifty Shades of Grey belongs to EL James**

**A/N: **Thank you for reading, reviewing and following.- Please enjoy.

Clothed only in my jeans, I sit in silence on the edge of the bed, folding my leg up so I can watch her sleep. I'd always found it comforting watching her sleep. It is when I imagine I can access her most intimate thoughts that reside in a secret chamber in her heart under lock and key. But alas I can't, it's just wishful thinking. The truth is she's still the puzzle wrapped in an enigma I met on that first day. We've made great strides, but I've still not been able to penetrate her tormented fortress. But I'll be patient and wait for when she's ready to invite me into this inner sanctum. Then and only then will be able to explore the true depth of our relationship. In the meantime, I'll live with the disadvantage of competing against a living and breathing foe I don't know. It would be so much easier if the demon wasn't flesh and bone but some abstract idea instead.

In sleep the innocence of her 17 years soon to be 18 years is undeniable and it makes me want to protect her that much more. My adoring eyes doesn't miss the special effect created every time her breath touches the strands of hair at her face making them appear to dance. A warm smile plays on my lips as I recall the love-hate relationship she has with it and I'm attempted to move the strands that are inviting me to touch them behind her ear. But I resist. I don't want to wake her. After our night at the bar, Kate's scandalous impromptu visit, and our extracurricular activities she needs her sleep.

There's movement outside, which means Kate must be up so I shift quietly to not wake Ana when I rise. Grabbing my button down shirt from the back of the chair where I placed it after finding it on the floor, I thrust my arms into the sleeves before pulling it over my bare chest. Foregoing shoes, I tiptoe out of the bedroom as I fiddle with the buttons. Since I'm barefoot, Kate doesn't hear me when I enter the kitchen. Startled her hands fly up from the edge of the counter to her chest. Huffing and puffing her eyes are wide when she comes face to face with me.

"You startled the shit out of me," she shrieks. Automatically my finger flies to my lips.

"Shish," I whisper, "you'll wake Ana." Rolling her eyes at me Kate relaxes and lets the hand on her chest fall away.

"Fine time to think about that," she says, sarcastically. Then she resumes her stare down of the coffee pot that I'd interrupted.

"Scaring you wasn't my attention," I say. Buttoning the last button on my shirt, I walk further into the kitchen. Then I stop close enough to touch her. "You know what they say a watched pot never boils," I smirk. And she cocks her head at me giving me the evil eye. Keeping my eyes locked on hers I reach up to get a second mug to partake in her coffee.

"Maybe so," she says averting her gaze, "But right now, I don't give a shit." She squints and winces in pain. Half amused and half agitated I watch the dramatic show. "Next time try not scaring me, my fucking head already hurts," she whines and her face contorts. With my proximity to her I can smell the stench of alcohol emanating from every pore of her body.

"Hung over?" I smile smugly. Enraged, Kate tilts her head at me.

"No fucking shit Sherlock," Kate bites and she grimaces, "you're an observant prick." Needless to say, her discomfort isn't curbing her abrasiveness. Eventually, the dripping ceases and Kate wastes no time filling her cup. Then I shove mine in front of her face, annoying the hell out of her, but begrudgingly she fills it.

"Listen, Kate," I say. Bringing the cup to my lips, I blow on the steaming hot liquid before slurping it. And I spew the foul liquid everywhere. "What the fuck?" I screech wiping the black, now warm liquid from my mouth, chin, and favorite oxford shirt.

"Shsh," she says and I can't miss the smirk on her face. "You don't want to wake Ana," she says coyly.

"Fuck you," I snarl. Examining the front of my shirt I wipe the last of the disgusting brew from it and my face. "What the fuck did you put in here?" I ask. And I inspect the suspicious substance in my cup that looks like crude oil masquerading as coffee. Despite coming from a coffee maker, I'm not convinced that it is coffee, so I set my cup on the counter.

"So you can handle your alcohol, but not your coffee?" Her lips turn up into a wry smile. She sips the foul tasting liquid savoring every bit of it as if she's calling me out on my manhood.

"As much as, I'm enjoying this back and forth with you, it's not why I'm here," I say. Then I walk to the table leaving Kate at the counter.

"Let me spare you the lecture," she says cupping the mug in her hands. "If this has anything to do with last night. I'm sorry. Clearly I was drunk." She holds the mug up to me to support her claim. She's not telling me something I don't already know, but I wish she'd show more contrition.

Leaning back on the small table, with my legs crossed at the ankles and my arms crossed over my chest I glare at her. "I'm not the one you should be apologizing to. You upset Ana. She's pregnant and dealing with a lot of other bullshit so she can do without your shenanigans. By the way do you think you can show more contrition when you do?" I counsel her.

"You don't have to worry Luke I know Ana better than you do. I'll apologize to her properly," she says. And she removes the carafe topping off her cup with more of the disgusting brew. "She's not as fragile as you think." She nods setting the carafe back on the burner. "You can't survive her past by being a weakling so give her some credit. It's going to get old you know." She takes a sip of the coffee and runs her fingertip around the rim of the mug.

Waving a hand at her, I smirk. "I'm waiting. Please share your words of wisdom with me."

"It's simple really, girls like bad boys. She may find it endearing now, but she's going to tire of the Sir Galahad act," she says. Capturing my gaze she saunters to me. Fortunately, she's dressed in a modest pajamas so I don't have to worry about a wardrobe malfunction. Intentional or otherwise. "In your not so distant past I'm fairly certain you were one them, so consider this a reminder or a tip. Bad boys are three dimensional and more alive than their cardboard cutout counterparts," she purrs. Happy with herself, Kate has the gall to press her finger on my crossed arm. A scowl on my face I stare down at her finger and she pulls it back. "Haven't you wondered why she still engages with her baby's father, despite his behavior?" She gives me a shit eating glance as she sashays out of the kitchen leaving the question hanging and me befuddled and agitated. She's her friend, so obviously she knows the secret Ana is keeping. That was her poking me in the eye with this knowledge. But I won't give her the satisfaction of being goaded into asking her. It's Ana's secret to tell and she'll tell me when she's ready.

Pushing off the table, I take me and my salty attitude back to Ana's bedroom. This time my footsteps are heavier and harder. Ana mixes when I enter the room and I rush to her side. Sitting on the edge of the bed I push her hair back from her face.

"Go back to sleep baby," I whisper as I rub her hair

"I will," she says, groggily. Somehow she manages to crack her eyes open. "Why are you dressed?" she says softly.

"I needed coffee and sense we're not alone I had to dress appropriately," I reply.

"Coffee." She wrinkles her nose. "I thought I was smelling coffee," she mumbles.

"Baby, that's not coffee," I say. "Kate made something foul that she's calling coffee."

"I'm sorry," Ana says. It's adorable watching her try to carry on a conversation still asleep.

"Don't be I'll pick up Starbucks on my way to my friends-,"

"No," she moans. It interrupts me. She's meant to lift her head. Instead, she burrows into her pillow. "Don't go."

I chuckle. "Your mouth might be saying don't go but your body is saying leave me the hell alone," I say, laughing.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sleepy," she grumbles. "What did you put in my water?" she whines

I push the covers back a peep. "It's not me, it's the little one in here," I say. Then I rest my hand on her slowly growing belly and she sighs in response. Covering lower half back up, I bring my gaze back to her face. She's smiling as she struggles to keep her eyes open. "You can go back to sleep, I'll call you later," I whisper. Leaning down, I give her a soft kiss on the lips.

"You're a good guy Luke Sawyer," she moans, as she shifts to her front.

After sleeping the morning away, I get showered and dressed. However, before I leave the room, I can't help but check my phone one last time for any missed calls from Christian. Alas, like the other five times I see that I have not. Staring at the dark phone, I try to remain rational. His silence can be viewed as a positive sign. At least he's not on the attack and it could mean that he's had an epitome. It's the theory I'm sticking with, but more his lack of response goes on I'm not sure. At this point, I'd settle for one of his unplanned visits, at least I'd get my answer. As it is, I'm stuck in limbo. I don't know if I should involve Ray or plan for motherhood without the looming threats of losing my child.

When I open the bedroom door, for the first time I notice a creaking that was not there before. It's reminiscent of the annoying sound the door to mother's hospital room made. "I'll need to get this fix," I say out loud. When the door closes, I release the knob and come face to face with Kate. She's staring at me dumbfounded. "My door is creaking," I clarify, pointing a finger behind me. "I'll need to pick up some WD-40 when I go back to work."

"If you say so," she says. And she removes her arm from the back of the sofa shifting her body forward on it. Following me with her gaze, Kate eyes me up and down when I reach the sofa. "Morning. Going somewhere?" she smirks.

"Why?" I ask as I plop my butt down to join her.

"You're dressed."

"This," I say, sighing deeply I look down at my attire "No." And I grab one of the throw pillows to hold against my chest. "I decided to get dressed before coming out so I wouldn't waste the entire day. I was afraid if I came out in my pj's I would never put on clothes."

"I'm sure Luke wouldn't mind. Where is he? Do you still have him locked inside your bedroom?" she teases.

"No he left earlier? You didn't hear him leave? I thought I remembered him saying he had coffee with you."

"I wouldn't say he had coffee with me, it's more like he spat his out before chastising me," she says, pouting. "Speaking of which I owe you an apology. I've already apologized to him so let me apologize to you. I'm so sorry about last night. Needless to say I was drunk and I stepped way over the line. I took the third wheel to far," she says, confessing to her sins and apologizing for them.

"You're forgiven, but I would like to know what was on your mind. It's not like you stumbled in on us, you opened the door and walked in. Then you mumbled something about wanting to join us." Kate is horrified, as she's reminded of her actions.

"I said that?" she asks. Then something truly miraculous happens, the color simultaneously drains from her face and colors it. I've never seen anything like it. Knowing there was nothing salacious behind her intrusion, I can accept her apology on face value. "No wonder Luke was so hard on me this morning," she says, groaning

"I'm sorry, he can get carried away when it comes to me."

"About that. How do you feel about his over the top protective nature? I remember how you hated it when Jose tried the Neanderthal shtick. So I'm interested to know how it's playing out with Luke," she says. Kate has successfully taken herself off the hot seat putting me on it.

"It's fine. He's different from Jose. The dynamics between us is different. I'd never felt a romantic attraction to Jose, so the relationship for me was platonic; therefore, I was not comfortable with him taking on the role as my protector. Luke and I have a true romantic relationship and as my boyfriend he feels like it's his duty to protect me. And I OK with it, to a certain point. In his defense, I've been very emotional and crazy sense he'd met me making it easy for him to step seamlessly into the role," I say.

"Now that you're back and feeling more like your old self are you still okay with his behavior?" she asks.

"What is this? This is no longer feeling like an innocent conversation, its beginning to feel like an interrogation. Did I miss something while I was asleep? I thought you and Luke were getting along swimmingly." I stare at her pensively.

"No. I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you feel like you were on the witness stand. I like Luke and I like the two of you together. I was just curious. You guys fell fast and furious and now that you're back in your natural habitat I was wondering how it has affected your relationship," she says.

"Seeing that it has only been about two days, I don't have an answer to that question. Give me a week and I'll get back to you," I quip but I immediately regret my snippy response. "Okay, I'll admit to feeling a little different. There's a different dimension to things. For example, it felt odd having sex in my room. In my bed," I confess.

"Tell me about it," she says, chuckling. "It was strange for me hearing the noises coming from there." She smirks. "By the way, you are noisy during sex girlfriend. Who knew little Anastasia Steele was such a vixen in the bedroom," she says and I slap her on the arm.

"Kate," I shriek. "I thought you didn't remember last night," I say, hotly

"I remembered that. You in the throes of passion, how could I forget," she says, teasing me and at the same time protecting her arm from another attack. But she doesn't have to worry, she's saved by the ringing of my phone. Throwing the pillow at her I leap from the sofa and as soon as my feet hit the floor, I race to my room to reach it before the person hangs up.

Flinging the door open, I almost trip on my converse in my pursuit of the ringing phone. Catching it on the last ring, I feel a ping of guilt when Luke's name appears on the screen. Because I'm disappointed that it's not Christian.

"Luke," I pant.

"Hi baby," he says and the joy in his voice makes the guilt that more palpable. I hate that I've put myself in this position. In my attempt to gain control of the situation, I've unintentionally given Christian more control. Now pathetically I'm hanging on every ring and beep of my phone. "You're awake," Luke says and it brings me out of my head.

"Yep sleeping Annie decided to get up," I say, jokingly to mask the disappointment and guilt.

"Well, I for one am very happy that sleeping Annie got her rest," he says, chuckling. "You exerted a lot of energy last night at the club and in bed. If you know what I mean." And I don't have to see his face to know he's wrinkling his brows. "You needed the extra rest. So what do you have planned for the remainder of the day?"

"I was hoping to see you later, but from that question I'm guessing it's not going to happen."

He lets out a long audible sigh. "No it's not. I need to head back to work after all. You know the break in I told you about, well they need all hands on deck. We still haven't found the culprit though we have our suspicions. So the head of security, my direct boss called and ask if I would help and I said yes."

"Yes, of course, you did, because that's who you are. I'm glad actually, this way you won't be here babysitting me. Where you would be bored and I'd feel guilty."

"Maybe. But I will be back for your birthday and we can have the rest of the weekend. With me out of the picture that doesn't mean that you have carte blanche to over exert yourself," he says.

"Aye, Aye sir," I say teasingly.

"For that you're going to pay."

"I hope so," I say, joking seductively.

"Aha," he groans. "I'm hanging up before I change my mind and come fuck you," he says and I giggle. "Your laughing isn't helping the bulge in my pants. So I'm going to move on to another subject," he says. "Have you eaten?" He's serious and I burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry but it's too easy. I thought you were looking for a topic to deflate your bulge. You get off on ordering me to eat," I say, snickering. Proud of myself for the snappy comeback, I can't stop laughing.

"Oh yes, you're most definitely going to pay," he grunts. "I see a spanking and a good old fashion hard fucking in your future," he says. His words quieting me, I take a big gulp. "I bet you're not laughing now," he says.

"Promises. Promises," I say, taunting him after quickly rebounding from my momentary lapse. "But to answer the question that started all of this, I haven't yet but I will."

"Thank you and as much pleasure as I derive from talking to you I better hang up or I will never leave."

"Okay, drive safely and call me when you arrive."

"I will. I love you,"

"I love you too. Bye."

When I end the call with Luke, I kick my converse to the side so I won't trip on them again and I go back to my inquisitive friend.

"So how's Luke?" Kate asks; as soon as, I make it back to the sofa. I sit before answering her.

"How did you know it was Luke?"

"C'mon, who else would it be? Your, other friends are all serial texters," she says. Then she pauses. "Unless it was Christian."

"It wasn't Christian," I say. "You were right the first time, it was Luke."

"From the look on your face I can't discern if you're happy or disappointed."

"I'm happy."

"Trying being a little more convincing," she says.

"What is it with you and Luke all of a sudden? One minute you're championing our relationship and the next you're questioning it. So what's the deal? It feels like we're going backwards here," I say pinning her with my gaze.

"Nothing. I'm still his biggest champion, but I do have some questions and quite frankly I'm surprise you don't."

"About what?" I ask.

"About everything. His work. Do you even know who he works for? Are you even curious about it?"

"No, I'm not. It makes me feel less guilty about keeping my secrets. I can't pry if I'm not willing to be forthcoming with him."

"That's pretty convenient for him to hide behind. I don't agree with it, but at least I understand your need for secrecy but why Luke. You have to be curious. Eh?"

"What?" I ask questioning why she's so giddy.

"I just thought of something," she says and she shifts her whole body so she's facing me. Then she pulls her leg under her. "What if Luke worked for Christian?" she screeches clapping her hands bouncing up and down on the sofa like a toddler. "That would be such a riot," she says. Amused as she is by the idea, I'm as horrified by it.

"Don't even joke about that," I scream giving her a wallop on the leg. I must be puce green because I feel violently ill. The idea that Luke could be an employee of Christian's is no joking matter. In fact, it would be my worst nightmare come to life. No matter how our child custody battle shakes out, it would be WWIII.

"Ana are you okay?" Kate asks and as she's about to touch me I jump up from the sofa. My feet barely hits the floor and I'm scrambling to the bathroom. "Ana," Kate screams after me.

"Sorry," I moan, with my face buried in the toilet. Then I hurl again.

"Here," Kate says and she bends to pull my hair back. "Let me get this mass out of your way so you won't get puke in it."

"Thank you. I think I'm done," I whisper and she helps me up before rushing to get a wet face towel.

"Take this," she says handing it to me. "I'm sorry Ana. I was just joking. I didn't realize that the idea would affect you in this way," she says. She inspects me as I wipe my face and goggle with mouthwash to get the yucky taste out my mouth. "There must be more here than you're telling me."

I toss the hand towel to the sink. "Drop it, Kate," I say storming out of the bathroom.

"No. I won't. Not when a joke can get that kind of reaction out of you. You're not telling me something," she say trailing behind me.

"What reaction? I threw up. That's what pregnant women do. Throw up."

"I'm not stupid Ana, I can tell the difference between an upset stomach and having your stomach upset. I hit a nerve and I want to know which nerve," she says and she bumps into me.

"If this makes you feel better, Luke discovered that I was doing a research paper on Christian and he was very differential. He even offered to follow up with guys on Christian's security team. He didn't boast that he worked for the man and it would have been a perfect opportunity for him to ingratiate himself to me," I say. I hope it gets her off my back.

"There you go." She shrugs. "That's all you had to say. Kate, I can assure he doesn't work for Christian and list your facts," she says.

"So can we drop it?"

"For now. I promised one of the men in question that I would feed you and I always keep my promises," she says. And she rests her hands on my shoulders spinning me so I'm facing the door.

"When did you make this promise?" I ask as she marches me out the room.

"Last night."

I can't make it into the apartment fast enough. Locking the door behind me I drop my bags, not caring where they land. From the thud they make, it's apparent they missed the table at the door. Dragging my tired body to the sofa I plunk down and prop my sore feet up on the coffee table and breathe in a long relaxing breath.

"Steele, you're home," Kate says as she walks out of her room holding her iPad

"Yes."

"I guess your first day back in the saddle has gotten the best of you."

"That's putting it mildly. Classes were fine. Clayton's is what has gotten the best of me," I say and I remove my converse tossing them aside. "Look at how swollen my feet are," I say whining as I wiggle my toes. Her iPad in hand, Kate steps closer and peers at my pale, puffy feet.

"I guess. I'm finding it hard to get beyond the peeling nail polish," she say. I roll my eyes at her superficial comment.

"Just look at my feet," I shout.

"I'm looking. They're swollen," she shrugs. "What do you expect, you're pregnant."

"Get away from me," I swat at her.

"Don't get mad at me I didn't get you pregnant," she says, smirking. "But I'll run you some hot water so you can soak them," she says. In the background, I hear her set the iPad on the desk before heading to prepare me a foot bath. "Just so you know, I'm not going to massage them," she yells from her room.

Shaking my head at her declaration, I stare at my swollen feet and I wonder if I'll be able to do this. Go to school, work, and volunteer. Will Luke's words ring true? It's only my first day at this and I'm bloated, my feet resemble small melons, and I feel like what the proverbial cat dragged in. Pressing my head into the back of the sofa I stretch my arms out wide and I reflect on my situation. Things are only going to get tougher; my stomach bigger, my energy will wane, and soon I won't be able to touch my puffy feet like the pregnant women on the blogs warn about.

"Hey Kate," I yell. A thought pops into my head and I want to ask her before my pregnancy brain pushes it aside.

"Wait, let me get your water ready and I'll be right there," she shouts back.

"Okay," I say reaching into my pocket for my beeping phone. The texts pop up and it's a message from Copper. He's checking in on my day so I text him back letting him know leaving out the truth.

"Luke," Kate says. Struggling with the foot message pan filled with hot water, she manages to reach me without spilling any.

"Do you need some help?" I sit up bringing my feet off the table with me, but she ushers me back down as she sets the container on the floor in front of me.

"Relax and put your feet in here. Let me know if it's too hot," she says. Bending she looks up at me expectantly.

"No it's perfect," I purr. "It smells good too. What's in here?" She stands upright.

"I kind of threw the kitchen sink or should I say the bathroom sink in there. A little bit of Jasmine conditioner I had and some Epsom salt left over from a previous injury," she says.

"I wasn't expecting the conditioner, but it smells good," I say and I slide my aching feet into the waiting water, "and oddly it makes the water feel silky too," I say.

"I'm glad you like it," she says walking around the coffee table to get to the sofa. "So what did you want to ask me?"

"Jose. Has he been acting strange to you?" Taking her seat, she eyes me speculatively

"Considering what he did to you, she should be acting strangely. He's lucky his ass isn't in jail. But to answer your question I haven't noticed. To be honest, I've hardly seen Jose since you've been gone."

"Ironically after everything that has happened since then, what he did feels so insignificant in comparison. Don't get me wrong I'm still incensed by it, but in the scheme of things I wish it were my only problem." I say splashing my feet in the water. "It was just strange. I don't know, I felt like he was intentionally trying to avoid me."

"He's embarrassed, as well as he should be. Don't worry about him," she says waving a hand at me.

"Okay, I have something else I need anyways. I'll need your help later on removing some items from my car."

"How many cans or bottle of WD-40 did you buy?"

"Funny. I bought some diapers," I say. Kate glares at me like I grew two heads right in front of her.

She cocks her head to the side. "Diapers," she says. "Correct me if I'm wrong, you still have about 6 to 7 months before you drop the child king or princess right?"

"You're so poetic?" I say, smirking at her. "Yes, but I read on a mommy blog that it's never too early or late to buy the essentials. And if you can find coupons it's that much better. So before I went to sleep, I clipped coupons," I say.

"You know that would be hilarious if it weren't so idiotic. You really have mommy brain. Do you think you'll need to worry about being able to afford diapers and formula?" she says.

"I won't need formula, I plan to breastfeed."

"Haha. You know what I mean," she snaps. "It's not like this baby won't have everything he or she needs as soon as you pop him or her out. Have you forgotten who the father is? And in case you two are still at an impasse, you'll have a line of money people waiting to take his place. Me, my parents, Elliot, Grace and Carrick. Not to mention Ray. So what the hell?"

"I need to do this. I need to prove that I'm prepared and ready to care for my child. And honestly it's kind of fun. It makes it real and it increases the excitement factor."

"When you put it like that, I get it. So I'll help. After we get the swelling down and you eat," she says

"Look at you Miss Nurse."

"Well, like I said I promised Luke."

"So you're pro-Luke again."

"I told you, I'm on Luke's side," she says and my phone rings. "Go ahead take it, I 'm sure it's the man of the hour," she says and she gets up to give me privacy.

"Hi." I stop shy of saying baby and I can't explain why.

"Hi, yourself. How was your first day?" he asks. I can't help but giggle.

"Everyone keeps referring to it as my first day like I went to kindergarten."

"Who's everyone?"

"You know the usual suspects, Kate, Amanda, Jazz, and Copper."

"Why can't that fucker leave you alone?" he snarls.

"Luke, he's my friend."

"Whatever, I don't want to use my time talking about him anyway. Are you okay? You sound tired?"

"I'm not going to lie I'm exhausted, but I'm starting to feel better. Kate made me a hot water bath for my feet and I'm soaking them now."

"Good for her. Tell her thank you for me,"

"I will."

"Well, I'll let you go so you can enjoy your foot soak. Make sure you rest up for some phone sex later," he says breathing huskily.

"Gee whiz, is that all you think about."

"Pretty much. When I'm not having sex with you, I think about having sex with you."

"You're hopeless," I say, giggling. "Good night I'll talk to you later."

"Love you."

"I Love you too."

**Luke POV**

"Welcome back Luke." I hear the disembodied voice of Christian Grey and I shove the phone back into my pocket before swiveling to face him.

"Thank you, sir," I say.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to interrupt your call," he says.

"You didn't sir, I was finish," I say and there is an uncomfortable silence between us. The boss is not a fan of small talk, so I'm sure he's reached his limit.

"Have you seen Taylor?" he asks.

"Yes sir, he went to his office."

"When he comes out, tell him I want to see him in my office right away," he orders, before turning on his heels to head back down the corridor.

As soon as, Grey disappears down the hall I head to Taylor's office.

"The boss is looking for you." I motion to the door with my head. "I'd forgotten how much I'd missed him," I say, snidely.

"What, he's already busting your chops?" Taylor says

"Actually he was welcoming in a Christian Grey kind of way. It's me, not him. I'm the one with the chip on my shoulder."

"Really. What's up?"

"A girl what else?" I say and I start pacing in place.

"Well oh boy, I wish I could help you there. I'd never understood women myself," he says. "It's my guess things are not going so well. Coincidentally the boss's promising relationship has fizzled too."

"I can stand to hear about someone else's failings so what happened there?"

"There's not much to tell. He's kept this one pretty close to the vest. Despite some ill-advised decisions by the boss, I was hopeful that they would work through them though. But it wasn't to be. Any hopes were dashed when he contracted with a new Sub."

"I'm sorry, I missed Christian Grey moping," I whisper in case the boss is lurking.

"I didn't say he was moping," Taylor says.

"I got it. I'm sure Sam offered him some comfort"

"Surprisingly their interactions have only been in the office. Their relationship is still relegated to business."

"Good, I actually preferred the subs to her."

"You know I feel like an old hen, gossiping so can we change the subject?"

"Don't consider it gossiping old man," I say. Then I walk up to him to slap him on his arm. "Think of it as filling me in on what I've missed."

"You want to know what you've missed, pull up a seat so I can fill you in on that cunning bitch Leila Williams," he says seething.

"Yeah, I'm still amazed that she was able to break in here. This place is Fort Knox, it sounds like she did some kind of Thomas Crown Fair shit.

"That's what has me so fucking mad," he says slamming the folder on his desk. "That she was able to penetrate our security system. It makes us look like the keystone cops. I'm surprised Grey didn't dismantle the whole team and fire all of us," he admits.

"Everyone but me, I wasn't here," I say, jokingly but Taylor isn't amused. "I guess she took your sense of humor with her too."

"Fuck you Luke."

"Chill old man. I'm just trying to bring in some humor to lighten everyone's mood including mine. "But I agree with you. However, it looks like he's taking it in stride."

"To his credit, he is. But it would go a long way if we could find the bitch."

"Now that's what's getting me, the fact that we can't find her. It's as if she's disappeared off the face of the earth."

"If she has, I would stay there because it's a fate better than the one she will experience when Christian Grey gets his hands on her."

"Well, I'm here so tell me what you need me to do. After listening to Ryan all day I'm ready to get down to some real work. By the way, Ryan was trying to hint at Grey with some young girl?"

"Don't listen to Ryan he's a pussy. He doesn't know what the fuck he's talking about. You talk about gossiping, I should fire him for his big mouth," he says and I can't help but chuckle.

"The public think we have it all together, they'd be surprise to know what goes on behind the scenes."

"Well we can't be perfect, that wouldn't be fair to the rest of humanity. Speaking of perfection let's get back to your relationship."

"That segue was a stretch. What happened to not gossiping?"

"It's not gossiping if it comes from the horse's mouth," Taylor says.

"Let's just say it's not going the way I'd envisioned." I neigh, making the sound of a horse. "There you have it from the horse's mouth." Jason cracks up.

"Luke it's good to have you back buddy," he says slapping me on the back. "As for relationships, they rarely go the way we plan."

"Maybe, but this one is seriously off the rails. But I'm working to keep it on track," I say.

"Is she?"

"Good question. Sometimes I wonder."

"Are you going to bring her around?" he asks.

"Not yet, I need to make sure we'll weather this storm."

"Are you going to reveal her identity?"

"Nope. I don't want anyone digging around in her past spooking her. Our relationship is too fragile for the detailed report Christian Grey would require."

"I think I know the answer, but I'll ask anyway. Does she know who you work for?"

"No. At first I was following protocol by not mentioning that he was my employer. But as the relationship developed, it was nice not having the Christian Grey mystique hanging over us. I've been down that road too many times, as soon as, girls find out who I work for it becomes all about him.

"So do you think this girl would be that way? It doesn't seem like you would seriously invest your time with someone that shallow," he says.

"It wouldn't matter to her, but for some reason it matters to me. I like just being Luke. It's been a long time since I've been in any type of relationship where I've been just Luke. Not Luke Sawyer, part of Christian Grey's elite security detail. It feels good," I admit. "I must sound like a wimp."

"You don't. You sound like a man that has fallen in love and is finding his way. I say do what is best for you. I wish I had some words of wisdom for you, but I would be a hypocrite if I tried to offer you love advice."

"Having an unbiased ear is enough. It's good being back."

"Good. Now let's stop with this mushy shit before we hug it out. I'm going to the boss's office so you can head home," Taylor says.

"Thank you. I'll take this with me," I say waving Leila Williams' folder in my hand. "I'll read it at home."

I walk out of Taylor's office with him and I'm about to enter the elevator when Grey stops me.

"Sawyer can you stay back? I have some questions for you about your time at Harvard. You can come to my office when Taylor is done," he says. I wonder what the hell this is about I think to my self.

"Yes sir," I say and I walk to a chair to wait for my turn in the principal's office.


	24. Chapter 24: Happy Birthday to you

Chapter 24: Happy Birthday to you

**Disclaimer:** FSOG belongs to EL James

**A/N: **Thank you for reading, reviewing, and following- Please Enjoy

I cross path with Taylor at the threshold of the boss's office. "See me when you're done," he whispers.

What the fuck is this; ground hog day. If this back and forth continues with Taylor and Grey, I'll never get the fuck out of here.

"Okay," I nod and keep pushing. Entering the office, I close the door behind me. Pausing, I survey the landscape; I hadn't been in here since before I left for Harvard. I'd forgotten how impressive it is.

The sooner I get this over with, the sooner I can get to Ana, so I square my shoulders and take long strides further into the room.

The boss is sitting behind his large ebony desk, too large for a home office if you ask me even if the home office is expansive; the closer I get, I try to gauge his attitude. Impassive as ever, the bastard is giving nothing away. In his casual clothes, he looks younger and not as imposing but I know better, he's one ruthless motherfucker.

"Sir," I say, my voice booming.

Holding the folder I'd brought back from Harvard, he gestures to a lone chair in front of the desk." Have a seat," he points, "thank you for collecting this information for me," he says, leafing through the pages. Closing the folder, he slams it on the desk. "So Luke tell me your thoughts on Harvard's Business School." He steeples his fingers at his mouth and leans back, as he awaits my response.

Damn. I'd prepared for an interrogation and walked in on a fact-finding mission.

"Well, compared to Yale, I would say it lived up to the hype. It was-" Abruptly, he holds up his hand interrupting me.

"Let me stop you right there," he says, leaning forward, "and explain why I'm inquiring. Harvard has invited me to be apart a lecture series next year at the School. They've asked before, but this is the first time I'm seriously considering the invitation. It's been years since I've walked the hallowed halls of the institution, so I wanted to get your take since you're just returning. On the curriculum and security," he clarifies, shrugging smugly. It's his way of letting me know he's not interested in my low-level assessment. "And any other pertinent information you may have; factual or anecdotal," he says, smirking. Now he's toying with me.

"Well, I don't foresee a security risk, if that's what you're asking. We can easily handle it. As for the curriculum, your participation would only add to the status of the Business School and the entire university," I say, pausing. "Sir, permission to speak freely?"

"Please do," he says, looking at me speculatively.

"I know Taylor would be the one accompanying you, but I would like to tag along in a professional and a personal capacity. I would like to sit in on your lectures as I'm keen to tap into your business mind." I say. His inscrutable gray gaze is making me nervous, so I sit up a little straighter.

"You're a go-getter," he says, smiling appreciatively. "You know what they say, never squander an opportunity." He picks up the folder from his desk. "If that's your line of thinking, you may be more interested in the other invitees." He's open the folder and starts reading from a list. "Let's see we have Gideon Cross, Damien Stark, and Paul Storm to name a few," he says.

"That's certainly an impressive list, but you're still at the top of mine," I say, with a satirical smile playing on my face. The boss may be a prick, but he has a sense of humor.

"Well played Luke," he says. "Fortunately, my ego isn't propped up by bullshit." He smirks. "Let's change the subject for a moment," he says, coming to his feet and walking around to the front of the desk.

_The fact that Anastasia has found the need to fuck every fucker on Harvard's campus has bothered me, and I have to know if Luke was one of her conquests. Just so happen I overheard Taylor and Gail discussing his relationship, which is my reason for this little sit-down. Preparation and opportunity converged giving me the perfect cover to find out what I want to know. I need to know. There's no way in hell that I can continue to employ someone that has had his dick in the same pussy I'd put mine. Sitting on the edge of my desk, I cross my legs and arms as I prepare to probe._

_"Luke, I understand that you've met someone," I say, casually. Unfolding my arms, I cup the edge of the desk as I try to check his pulse. He's a good student, learning from Jason and me; Luke is giving nothing away. Then again, he knows nothing of my cruel intentions. If she were mine, he would suffer a fate worse than death, as it is, she was just a fuck so firing him would suffice._

Fuck me, what a clusterfuck, the boss has gotten wind that I have a girlfriend. I need to nip this in the butt ASAP, or he'll have Barney running a detailed background check on Ana before my ass leaves this chair. That would scare her shitless. "I did meet someone at Harvard. We're still feeling each other out," I say.

_"That sounds noncommittal._ _Do you have a girlfriend or not?"_ I say. _I don't have time for this relationship jargon; I just want to know if he has a girlfriend or not. Common sense tells me it's not Anastasia, so that's not in question. Since he'd fuck anything walking, and she'd do the same, I need to know if they fucked each other. So the girlfriend is key here. Luke Sawyer maybe a dog, but he's not a cheat._

"Sorry, for being so evasive. We pretty much meant my first day at Harvard . But in recent weeks we've been going through some things, so I'm reluctant to call her my girlfriend. I don't want to jinx it. However, I'm optimistic that we'll work it out." I massage the truth, and I hope he buys it.

_My face is reading impassive, but the catchphrase "good answer", from one of those silly game shows Mia used to watch, is blaring in my head. The time-frame he'd met the young woman in question predates Anastasia, so he's in the clear. He didn't have my sloppy seconds so I can let it drop._

"I see," I say. Satisfied, I push off the desk, and I mosey back to my chair. "Well, if it does work out, needless to say, Barney must run a detailed background check on her immediately. I would go as far to say, that if she's already aware that you work for me, to have one completed now," he says running his hand through his hair.

"That's not necessary, she doesn't know," I say.

"Good. You're dismissed," he says, nonchalantly.

"Thank you, sir." And I almost leap from the chair.

Taylor is having a good laugh at my expense when I enter his office. "You survived," he says.

"I did. Actually, it was going well until he asked me about a girlfriend. Then I nearly shit my pants." Taylor then starts sniffing.

"I don't smell it, so I guess you successfully maneuvered your way around the question." I glower at him, but I don't have time to get in a ribbing contest tonight.

"I did," I say giving him a straightforward answer.

"Curious, how did he find out?"

"I don't know and I didn't press him on it."

"So what else did you discuss? I can't see him calling a meeting to ask you about a girlfriend."

"He wanted my opinion on a lectureship at Harvard."

"He's seriously thinking about that shit? They've extended the invitation every year that I've been here, so I don't know why he's entertaining it this go around," Taylor bemoans.

"I can't answer that," I say and I call it a night.

It's 11:00 pm when I'm done with my shower, so I go directly to bed to prepare for the call with Ana, I want to call before she falls asleep. My dick has been waiting for this all day, so I don't want to miss my window. If I can't have the real thing, this is the next best thing.

"Hi," she says, answering the phone in that adorable seductive tone I love. It's a mix of innocence and kittenish.

"Hi, yourself. Take it you're feeling better."

"I am. The foot soak helped a lot, and dinner reinvigorated me."

I chuckle, flirtatiously. "You are a little vixen. Trying to get me to shoot my load."

"Ooh baby, you know me so well. I am," she says, moaning mockingly.

"Talk dirty to me baby," I say, continuing with the play.

"Broccoli," she moans.

"Oh yes baby," I groan.

"Steamed chicken breast with a slice of lemon," she purrs continuing with the mockery.

"That's how I like it," I pant. "So are we done with the menu?" I ask, teasingly. "Can we get down to the real meal?"

"Yes."

"What are you wearing?"

"Pajama top and panties."

"No, bottom?"

"No bottoms," she says, annoyingly.

"Just wanted to confirm. I'd preferred it if you were naked, but that'll do."

"Are you?" she asks, sardonically. But I dismiss her snipiness, I can easily bring her to my side.

"Oh baby, yes I am," I say, huskily, "and I'm hard." Through the phone, I hear Ana swallow hard, and it makes me harder. "What'd you say we get this party started? Put your hand in your panties," I order, and run my hand up and down my shaft. "Touch yourself. Stick a finger inside it and feel how wet you are for me, baby."

"Aha," Ana moans.

"That's my girl," I say, groaning offering her some encouragement. I know masturbation and phone sex are still uncomfortable for her. But she's embracing it with the same gusto she does with anything she tries, and it's making my dick twitch with excitement. Salivating over her moaning, I give my cock another hard squeeze as I run my hand up and down it's rock hardness. "Are you wet?"

"You know I am."

"Yeah, but I want to hear you say it."

"I'm wet."

"How wet are you?"

"Very," she says, and I can't hold back a soft chuckle.

"Baby, that's not much of a description. I want to know if your finger is coated."

"Yes."

"Good. Now add a second."

"Oh, yess," she moans.

"Now fuck yourself."

"Gawd, this feels so good." I imagined her perfectly round, ass lifting from the bed, and I want to slide into her. Except for this phone and 200 miles separating us I would.

"That's it, baby." As she moans her pleasure, I fist my cock squeezing it hard, letting my pre-cum run down the length of it. I know I'm packing as the slang goes, but tonight it seems extra-long. Lifting my ass off the bed, I start stroking harder and harder. "Fuck," I hiss.

"Yes," she moans, then there's silence.

Darn, there's an incoming call. I can't stop to take it while I'm in the middle of phone sex with my boyfriend. Can I? It's all so new to me. But what if it's Christian? As I vacillate between answering and not answering, I momentarily forget that I'm in the middle of a happy ending until I hear Luke's voice.

"Baby," Luke calls and I snap out of it. At the same time, the second call stops beeping, taking the decision out of my hands.

"Ah, yes," I pant, jumping back into character.

"I thought I'd lost you," Luke says.

"Never. Something happened to my phone." I lie. It concerns me how easy lying has become to me.

"That's fine. You're here now. Let's get back to where we were," he says.

"Okay. Are you playing with yourself?" I'm no longer in the phone sex space, so I'm deflecting by flipping the script. A genius move I think. "I like it when you play with yourself."

"I'm stroking my rock hard cock thinking about you riding it."

"I like riding you. I like it when you're in me." I'm faking it now, I hope he doesn't notice.

"Fuck baby," he moans, "I can't wait to be inside you," Luke's grunts become louder letting me know he's close to the edge, so I start talking my sexual gibberish more feverishly. The words make no sense, they don't have to, some well-placed yes babies and give-it-to-mes' has him screaming my name. I wasn't aiming for an ego boost, but that's the unintended consequence. I'm not sure what it says about me, but it's empowering to know that I could make him come that hard, by faking it. This knowledge could have lasting implications.

"Fuck, I've got cum all over myself," Luke screeches.

"Then, I'll let you go get cleaned up," I say, seizing the moment to rush him off the phone.

As soon as, the line goes dead, I check my caller ID, and again I'm disappointed. It wasn't Christian after all; it was Amanda. Hitting my head against the headboard, I sigh in exasperation, and after a few minutes of licking myself inflicted wound I bring my head forward. I'm pathetic. Feeling icky about my sticky fingers, wet panties, and hanging up on Luke, I start to get up from the bed, and then I hear the crashing waves. It's Luke, so I stop to answer it.

"Hello," I say.

"I'm calling back to make sure you're alright. You didn't sound like yourself, not to mention you hung up on me," he says.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to. I guess I was more distracted by what happened with the phone than I'd thought," I say. There it is another tiny useless misrepresentation of the truth; these tiny lies are turning into a mountain.

"Are you sure? You'd let me know if you were not comfortable with anything we just did, right."

"Luke, you've been nothing but gentle and patient with me. I'm so sorry for making you feel like you've done something wrong."

"Don't worry about me, 'I'm fine. I wanted to make sure you were alright. Why don't we call it a night so you can get some rest? I love you," he says.

"I love you too," I say. The guilt and disloyalty I feel about my behavior overtakes me. Suddenly my room feels like it's closing in on me, so I slide my arms in my robe and go in search of some different airspace. I bump into Kate on my way to the kitchen, and she's wearing a shit eating grin.

"Don't you say a word," I snarl. Smirking at me, she balls up her mouth and makes a zipping gesture in front of it. Since admitting that she's heard me during sex and teased me about being noisy, I'm self-conscious.

I stare at ceiling debating if I'm going for a run or not. Running a hand along the waistband of my pajamas, I feel my expanding waistline, and that settles it for me, so I jump from the bed. My feet hit the floor with a thud and my eyes land on the baby supplies neatly stacked in the corner. They bring a smile to my face. It's getting real, and I'm getting more and more excited about this little one. I'll need to follow up on the list of referrals from Dr. Winston so I can find a Dr.

I walk up to my chest of drawer and with no more time to dither, I go with the first running outfit I pull out. Just so happened it's the one from Target. I hurriedly get dressed and sit on the chair next to my bed to put on my Asics.

Dressed, and my phone and earbuds in hand, I'm good to go. I put the buds in my ear and go out the front door. Finding a Pandora station, I start pounding the pavement. I like running this time a morning; it gives me time to clear my head. With all the noise going on in my life, it's crowded in there. After four miles one way, there's still no relief, so I hit it hard when I head back home. No matter how fast and how far I run I can't seem to outrun thoughts of Christian. It's not enough that I'm serving as an incubator for his seed, thoughts of him are threatening to consume me. "Stay," by Rihanna comes on my Pandora station and I pick up the pace.

Drenched, I enter the apartment to Kate walking around with her morning cup of Joe. When she sees me, she makes a face at me.

"Were you jogging or running from someone?" she asks.

I roll my eyes at her. "Both," I say, leisurely jogging to my room. Closing the door behind me, I don't stop moving until I make it to the bathroom. I do my business, throw some water on my face and toss the warm up jacket to the hamper, before walking back into the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I try to better compartmentalize the thoughts I couldn't out run; prioritize them if you will. Pulling one leg up on the bed, I give Luke a call.

"Hey you," he says.

"Good morning," I say.

"You're up early."

"Yeah, I wanted to get in a run before my early class which meant, I had to get up way too early for me," I say, giggling.

"Well you're timing is perfect, I just showered and dressed from mine," he says.

"In a suit?"

"Yes, a tie and all."

"Mmm, I like a well-dressed man."

"You're doing an admirable job, but I know you didn't call me this early in the morning to flirt, so what's wrong?" he asks.

"You can see right through me, even when you can't see me," I say.

"If only that were true. But I can tell when there's something on your mind. So are you going to tell me or are we going to talk in circles for the remainder of the call?"

"Truth. I just wanted to hear your voice. Correction I needed to hear your voice."

"Then, what did you need to hear me say?" he asks

"Nothing. Hearing you breathe is enough," I say. And uninvited tears come trickling down my face.

"Are you crying?" he asks.

"Yes," I say, sniffling.

"Where are you?" he whispers.

"In my room."

"Okay, then curl up on the bed and have a good cry if you need too. I'm here," he says softly.

Following his instructions, I crawl up on the bed and lay down in the fetal position and cry. Luke sits with me in silence for about 5 minutes and just listens to me crying. When I'm done, I sit up and wipe my face.

"Better?" he asks.

"Yes, thank you."

"I'm always here for you. Remember that."

"I will. I should let you go, and I need to get ready for class."

"Ana?"

"Yes."

"You're going to make a fantastic mother," he says.

"That's what I needed to hear. How did you know?"

"I love you, it's my job remember?"

We say our final goodbyes, and I toss the phone on the bed. I could use my memory box right about now, but I gave it to him. That sums up our relationship in a nutshell. I give, and he takes. Numb, I walk to the shower leaving a trail of clothing as I go.

At the top of our study group, Nick stands. "Hey everyone let's welcome Ana back," Nick says, and surprisingly the group erupts in applause. I'm not sure why Nick is being so nice to me all of a sudden, considering he has yet to apologize to me for attacking me. I wish I knew his angle. Refusing to focus on the negative, I accept his request and reluctantly stand before the group.

It only takes me about 10 minutes to give them a brief run down on Harvard; I leave out all personal information. I'm keeping the news of my pregnancy for much later. Until then, I'll behave like the same old naïve Ana without a care in the world, because apparently that's how all naive people act. Seriously, I have to admit it's nice being back in comfortable surroundings. These people aren't my friends, but they are what I know and as the old saying goes the devil you know is better than the devil you don't.

After my report, we all review our outlines. Though I've not spent a lot of time on my report, I'm not that far behind so when I commit to it I should be able to get it completed in no time. As it is, the last thing I want to do is research Christian Grey, so I've put it on the back burner and will get back to it as the due date draws closer.

Not sold on Nick's positive attitude towards me, I'm the first to leave the room ensuring that I'm not left alone with him.

"Hey, Ana. Wait up," Paul calls after me, and I slow down.

"Do you want a ride to work?"

"I'm good, I have my Beetle," I say.

"Oh, I didn't see it outside," he says.

"I parked it in the back. The front lot was crowded for some reason."

"I must've just missed it because the lot was pretty empty when I drove up," he says.

"I guess."

"Since its dark outside, I'll walk with you," he says.

"Thank you."

When Paul and I arrive at work, there's only one customer in the store and it never really picks up so Mrs. Clayton sends me home early. I couldn't be happier because my feet were rapidly heading towards a repeat of last night; tired and swollen to the size of small melons. Thankfully, Kate was around to help, and she made me a foot bath. Grabbing my purse, I rush out the door before Mrs. Clayton can change her mind. Once inside my trusty Beetle, I flip on the interior light and search through my coupon folder. Finding several that I can use, I go to the Target conveniently located not far from the store. I settle on smaller items that I can carry inside, without assistance. Kate's not on board with me stocking up on baby supplies. She thinks it's about the money, but it's about so much more. I need to prove that I can take care of my baby, not to mention the mommy bloggers say it's a must.

Loaded down, I struggle with getting into the apartment, so when I finally do I'm irritated. But I suppress my frustration and take my time putting my things away properly. First I set the bags on the table so I can lock the door. Then, I hang my purse on a hook before I remove my backpack. Squatting, I set it on the floor under the table acting more civilized than last night and not letting everything fall to the floor.

"Hi Ana," he says. His voice is smooth and warm as caramel, and I'm paralyzed. I can't move. I can't believe he's here. Somehow, I manage to come to my feet, and I turn to face him.

"You're here," I say softly and I can already feel the tears.

A smile is creeping on Luke's face as he stares at me affectionately. "Yes, I am," he says. The tears are now flowing, and a full on ugly cry has ensued as I walk in slow motion to him. Throwing my arms around his neck, Luke catches me. Bending his head down, he pulls me in tighter, and I burying my face in the crook of his neck as I sob uncontrollably.

Rubbing circles on my back, Luke buries his face in my hair. "Hey, hey, stop. You crying is defeating my purpose for being here," he says,

"I can't, you're here," I say, in between my sobs. Angling his head to the side, Luke gets a mouth full of hair as he kisses me on the head.

"I had to when I heard you crying this morning," he says, talking into my hair. "It tore me up inside that wasn't here to hold you." For the next few moments that all, he does hold me and similar to this morning he lets me cry. Rubbing my face on his shirt, I push out of his embrace.

"That's it. I'm done with the crying," I say. "I'm sure you heard me at the door, why didn't you help me." I tease to lightened the mood.

"Judgment call," he says, shrugging, "I didn't want to ruin the surprise."

"Okay, you're forgiven this is worth it," I say, and he reaches for my hand. Then he leads me to the sofa and releasing my hand he takes his seat before pulling down on his lap.

"Thank you," he says. "As much as, I hate to hear you cry if you never do it again you won't have a need for me." He jokes, tapping me on the nose.

"I don't know, I can think of a few more uses for you."

"Really?" he says, wantonly.

"It's true you have sex on the brain."

He tilts his head, and he simpers. "I thought that was settled," he says, huskily, and he starts tickling me.

Laughing hysterically, I thrash my arms and legs in a failed attempt to get away from him.

"Hey, what's the ruckus?" Kate says, stalking out of her room like a parent about to discipline her rowdy teenagers.

"He's tickling me, "I say, giggling.

"Stop," she says, swatting Luke on the shoulder.

"Ouch," he says and he releases me go so he can grab his arm. "You know you hit me for real," Luke shouts. Ignoring him, Kate saunters to the front of the room, and I bristle. I don't want her rummaging in my bags.

Stopping shy of them, Kate pivots, and she's smirking at Luke. "You're a security guard, you'll live," she says. I know he wants to say something to her, but he refrains.

Turning her attention back to the bags, she starts digging. "Get out of my bags," I yell, but unfortunately Luke's hands are on my waist so I can't move.

"Why? You didn't want me to see this?" she says, holding up one of my purchases. "Luke, please stop her," she says.

"What is it?" he asks as he strains to make out the item.

"Kate, put it back," I yell, this time I jump off Luke's lap and rushing to her I lurch for the baby oil. But she's too fast.

"Again, I ask what it is?" Luke's exasperated.

"Baby oil," I shout reaching up to take it from Kate's hand. "Kate disapproves of me stocking up on baby supplies."

"And what's wrong with that?" he says.

"Exactly," I say, throwing the bottles back in the bag when I jerk it from her hand.

"I'll let you decide for yourself when you go into her room," Kate says, sticking her tongue out at me and I do the same mirroring her adolescent behavior. "I'm leaving I was on my way to the kitchen anyways," she says. "I don't know if Luke told you, but there's pizza in the kitchen." From the discomfort in her face, I know it pains her to be nice to me right now because she's sulking.

"No. I haven't gotten around to it," he says.

"Well there's pizza in the kitchen," she says, begrudgingly when she reaches the kitchen door. "I'll be in my room so can you two try to keep the noise down." I can see the wheels turning in her mischievous little brain, and I brace myself for a smart comment. "In and out of here," she says for emphasis with a devilish grin on her face.

"Kate," I screech.

"What?" She feigns innocence, but she knows what's she's done. Luke doesn't know that she's heard us at our most intimate and now she's making fun of us. I'm mortified. "I'm gone. Bye," she says, vanishing behind the door.

When Kate exits, Luke stands up from the sofa and walks to where I remain standing in front of the controversial bags. "Come here," he says. Extending his arms out to me, I fall into them and he pulls me flush to his body. "Don't let Kate get to you. I think it's very frugal and motherly of you," he says echoing my sentiments, and he leans down kissing me on the top of my head. He releases me and rest his hands on my shoulders nudging me back so he can look in my face. "What'd you say I run you a full bath tonight? That way you can soak your whole body not only your feet. Then, I'll get you fed. Would you like that?" he says.

"Yes, that sounds nice," I say, whining. Luke removes his hands from my shoulders, and grabs my hand leading me to my bedroom.

Walking into the room, Luke goes directly to the bed and makes me sit while he prepares the bath for me. As I wait for him, I can't help but check my phone. If he'd not called tonight, odds are he's not calling. I might as well give up and prepare for war.

Standing in the bathroom's doorway, Luke calls to me interrupting me from my thoughts. He informs me that the bath is ready so I start peeling off my clothes and naked I across the room.

"You're so beautiful," he says, as he eyes me up and down. "Is that a tiny pouch I see?" he says, making a pinching gesture with his thumb and forefinger.

"I hope you feel that way when it's the size of a basketball."

"I'm positive I will because you will be radiant," he says.

"Stop before you get your way and I start crying. You know I have a moratorium on it." He gives me a sinful grin and stretches a hand out for me. I take it, and he jerks me causing me to careen into him.

"Watch it or you're going to hurt yourself," he says, winking at me. Then he walks us the few steps to the tub where he helps me step over the ledge. Putting one foot over I test out the water, and it's the perfect temperature. Hot but not scolding.

Rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt, Luke gets on his knees and helps me wash my hair. Stunning me, he puts conditioner on it while he tends to my feet.

"Where did you learn that? Alison?" I ask and Luke stills. As soon as the name leaves my mouth I regret it. She'd not been on my mind until that moment, so her name came out of left field.

"If you must know, my sisters. And despite what you believe all men are not filthy pigs some of us use conditioner. Even the ones with barely any hair," he says and he continues with what he was doing. Thankfully the anger was fleeting.

When he's given my feet the spa treatment, Luke washes the conditioner from my hair then he leaves me alone to enjoy my bath. I've soaked until my body is starting to resemble a raisin, so I'm more than ready when Luke walks in bringing me a towel. He dries my body, before moving to do the same to my hair. "I won't let you sleep with it wet," he says, mocking me as he feverishly towel-dries it. "I'll help you blow-dry it after you eat," he says, tossing the wet towel to the floor.

Dressed in my comfy pajamas, Luke and I go to the kitchen where he reheats pizza and sets out the salad he had Kate special order for me. Then he perches himself in front of me to ensure that I eat everything he'd put on my plate.

"So do you have any school work you need to do?" he asks

"No," I say, sipping on the mint tea he makes that I love. "Did you have something in mind?" I bat my lashes at him.

"Yes," he says.

"If I recall I'm owed a spanking and something that starts with an F," I say, alluringly.

"That you do," he says, chuckling. "But not tonight I just want to go bed and hold you," he says and he reaches a hand across the table for mine, and he tugs on it lightly. "Nothing sexual."

"I would like that," I say as I get lost in his ocean blue eyes.

Luke draws his hand back and stands to walk around the table to help me with my chair. Hand in hand, we return to the bedroom. Dragging the covers back, Luke helps me get under them before tucking me in. As I squirm to get comfort in the bed, he starts undressing, and I rest back on my elbows to watch the show.

"I don't think I say it nearly enough, but you're hot," I say. Smiling ear to ear Luke steps out of his well-fitting black slacks seductively swirling them in the air before tossing them to the floor, and then he removes his briefs and walks to the bed. Hovering over me he gives me a sweet kiss on the forehead.

"Thanks that means a lot coming from you," he says. "Now move over." I feel the bed dips as he puts a knee on the edge.

Hustling, I make room for him to slide in behind me. Once he's in place his arm encircles my waist. My back to his front, Luke pulls me tighter and the back of my head gets buried in his chest.

"I can't believe you didn't make me take off my PJs," I say and I can feel his chest vibrating as he snickers.

"I didn't come here with the intention to have sex, and all bets would be off if you were naked," he says.

"I feel the same way, yet you're naked," I say, wriggling my behind against his soft length but I feel it twitch, "you're not playing fair," I say, seductively. "I've missed sleeping with you every night," I say pulling his arms tighter around my waist.

"Same here," he says. "So do you want to tell me what had you so upset this morning?"

"You know, nothing but everything," I say, talking in riddles which he hates.

"I'll ignore the ambiguity," he says, sarcastically. "But, I suspect it's the hormone. Maybe it's something you should talk about with your Dr. When's your appointment?"

"I don't have one. I'm planning to call the referral Dr. Winston gave to me tomorrow."

"Guess what tomorrow is?" he asks changing the subject.

"February 5th," I say

"Ha, ha. Your birthday," he says, nuzzling me in the neck.

"Don't remind me. That's why I'm surprised to see you tonight I was expecting you tomorrow."

"That was the plan," he says peppering kisses on my neck. "But after we spoke this morning I changed the plan."

"I'm glad you did, I should've known something was up when I didn't hear from you all day."

"Sorry, I couldn't risk ruining the surprise."

'Were you waiting for me long?"

"Not too long, about an hour," he says.

"Where was Kate?" In case she's eavesdropping through the walls, I whisper

"Here, but nothing happened," he says.

Angling my head back, I try to get a glance of his face. "I didn't think it did. I trust you two," I say.

"So why ask?"

"Just curious."

"You'll never have to worry about me and another woman. Definitely not your roommate. Don't you realize you're it for me?"

"Do me favor, let's switch position," I say.

"Why?" he asks. His tone is suspicious.

"Just do it," I say and he chuckles.

"You're adorable when you try to be domineering," he says. Despite his derision, Luke removes his arm from around my waist and shifts to his other side. Then I do the same, flipping, so my front is now to his back.

My arm comes forward, and my hand starts traveling down his muscular thigh and he grasps my wrist, "Ana, what are you doing?" he asks.

Ignore him, I break the grip. It was futile anyway because it offered no resistance, but disappointingly my arm is too short to reach the target. I snicker, "this isn't going to work after all," I say. Leaning on his side, I tilt my head down to look at him. "I'm going to need you to flip on your back," I say.

Luke flips back to his original position, so he's facing me. "And why would I do that?" he asks.

"Oh, I don't know so I can take you in my mouth," I say, smiling smugly at him and for his part Luke is impassive. "Oh come on," I say swatting him on the shoulder, "you can't tell me you're not the least bit turned on by the thought of my lips wrapped around your erection."

A conceited grin on his face, Luke falls to his back affixing his arms behind his head. "Here's the thing I don't have an erection," he says and it sounds an awful lot like a challenge to me. So taking him up on it I start to crawl over his leg but his arms fly forward, and he ceases my progress. Again. "I meant it when I said this visit was not premeditated. I was not expecting sex. I was content with just holding you," he says. I know he's sincere, but I want to do this to make up for last night, and thank him for dropping everything to be here for me.

"I believe you. But this isn't just for you. I want to thank you for all you do. Besides if you didn't intend to turn me on you should've kept on your pants," I say, smiling, "or at least your brief," I add, leering at him.

"You win, I'm all yours," he says and I shove on his chest. Pushing the covers out of the way, I crawl between his legs. Standing on my knees, I nudge his strong thighs further apart giving me more room, and I give him one last seductive glance before disappearing between his legs.

Kissing the head of his semi-hard cock, I wrap my hand around the base going from the root to the tip until he's fully erect. Then I run my tongue along the tip lapping up his pre-cum.

"Shit," he hisses. Feeding off of his arousal, I open my mouth wide engulfing his erection taking him to the back of my throat. "Fuck," Luke shouts and I know Kate heard that. But I can't think about it right now, I need to stay focused.

With my mouth, I do the reverse, work his cock from the tip to the root sucking it hard as I go making Luke lift his behind from the bed. "Fucking yes, baby," Luke screams and in no time his warmth is flooding my mouth where I swallow all of it.

Milking him dry, I free my mouth from his flaccid cock, and I lick any remaining cum from the corners of my mouth before I come up for air. Leaning down Luke hooks his hands under my shoulders dragging me up the length of his body where he removes his hands so he can cup my face. Then he commences to kiss me hard. When he releases me, I'm out of breath, and searching for my equilibrium.

"I take I pleased you," I say.

"Fucking yes," he says, pulling me in for a peck on the lips. "You've become an expert."

"I've had a good teacher," I say, smiling uncomfortably. To this date, I've not ascertained why I'm shy after performing oral sex, but I am. "I'm going to brush my teeth," I say.

"Why, I've just kissed you I think it's a little late, don't you?"

"Maybe, but I want too."

"You're impossible," he says, when I return from the bathroom.

"I am, but you love me," I say

"That I do. Too much I think sometimes," he says, sounding reflective. Then he pulls me close to his chest, burying his head in my hair.

"I love you too," I say. "And thank you for all you do."

"You don't have to thank me, but you're welcome," he says, kissing me on the back of my head. "Now let's get some sleep we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow. I can finally stop sleeping with a tenderoni," he says, teasingly.

"Technically, I'd still be a tenderoni just not jail bait," I say, jokingly.

"Oh yeah, I forgot I was walking a fine line between freedom and Folsom County," he says deadpan..

"I could see you in orange," I say.

"Really, it wouldn't wash me out?"

"Nope, you're coloring is perfect for orange with the hint of a tan that apparently you wear year around," I say.

"You got jokes," he says, squeezing me around the waist with his arm" But maybe I prefer white or blue," he says, burying his face in my hair.

"I'm lucky you have a good sense a humor about the age thing," I say.

"I didn't have a choice, it's wasn't a strong enough a deterrent to keep me from you. It never bothered me as much as it bothered you," he says.

"I know. You took pride in telling your friends and family."

"Hell, I was sleeping with a younger woman, I wasn't keeping that a secret."

"Yes, because you're so much older than me," I say, poking him with my elbow.

Cuddling, Luke pulls his arm tighter around me. "I am so we can get some sleep. It might be your birthday, but we're still running in the morning."

True to his word, Luke gets me up at 5:00 for our run. Needless to say at that ungodly hour he had to practically dress me. But thankfully, on the run he shows some pity and we only do three miles both ways.

"Please. I can believe you're even breathing hard," he says, mocking me as I bend over panting.

"I'm running for two," I say, as I struggle to catch my breath. "Remember."

"Yes," he says. Feeling sorry for me he steps closer to help me up. "I remember, so come on mommy let me help you."

"Oh no," I say waving him off and bringing my body up on my own, "hearing you say mommy doesn't do it for me."

Luke starts laughing and helps me anyway. While I get cleaned up, he has gone to make to make coffee for him and Kate. She's dead to the world, so I'm not sure even coffee waving through the air will be able to rouse her. Sitting on the bed the stack of baby supplies in the corner catches my attention and I smile. Daydreaming about changing my baby's diaper my phone beeps and reaching over I mindlessly pick it up. It's barely 7:30 so I can't phantom who's calling me. It's not a number I recognize so I just answer.

"Hello," I say

"Anastasia Steele?" The young lady asks.

"Yes it is," I say

"This is Dr. Sonja Brown's office. I'm calling to let you know we have an appointment scheduled for you on Monday at 9:30. Please let me know if it works for you," she says. Counting to ten, I try to keep my anger in check.

"How did you get my number?" I ask.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Grey said you would be expecting the call," the young woman says apologetically. I almost feel sorry for her, but I'm too upset with Christian to let my empathy come through.

"Did he now?" I say, trying to keep my sarcasm to a minimum. She's only doing her job, her boss unbeknownst to her is the bidder for a prick's dirty work. "I'm sorry that he's wasted the time of your office, but I have a Dr. so I won't be needing the assistance of your office at this time. Goodbye," I say, too sweetly. She sounds like a smart girl, so I'm sure she saw through the sugary tone. Livid, I toss the phone on the bed.

Still on the edge of the bed, I practice my breathing techniques because I don't want a repeat of a panic attack or to hyperventilate again. But I'm so mad, it's a struggle to get it right. How dare he? He can't return a call, but he can set up a Dr.'s appointment for me. An appointment I didn't ask for just like I didn't ask the young woman when Christian called to set up the bogus appointment. But if I had to venture a guess, I'd say it coincided with my call.

Bastard.

I feel so stupid for thinking that he could be reasonable. I also feel superhuman, and without thinking I lift the mattress so I can pull out the contract he gave me. Just as I retrieve it, I hear Luke approaching so I race to the bathroom locking myself inside.

"Ana," Luke calls.

"I'm in the bathroom," I yell.

"Alright, I have your breakfast."

"Okay, I'll be right out," I say.

The contract is like white heat in my hands, and I want to let it fall to the floor. Instead, I start ripping it. First in half. Then quarters. Then one- eighth. Then one-sixteenth. Every rip is giving me strength, and I mentally kick myself for letting him play me for a fool one more time. Soon it's shredded, but I can't resist taking it one step further turning it into confetti. The little that doesn't make it on the floor I toss in the toilet. When my hands are free, I get on my hands and knees sweeping up the remaining pieces. I'm so irate, I don't even feel my knees scraping against the tiled floor. It's only when I spot blood on the tiny piece of the paper that I realize I'd been injured. But I'm too enraged for it to matter, the only thing that matters at this is juncture is not allowing Christian to usurp my parental rights. I don't care that he has all the money and power to me. I have something he does not, a mama bear's attitude and this time I won't waste it.

"Ana," Luke calls and I can hear that he's right outside the bathroom the door, and I freeze. I stand up in case my voice echoes, and he can tell that I'm on the floor.

"Yes."

"Are you okay? You've been in there for a while," he says.

"I'm fine I'll be out soon," I say.

"Okay, I don't want your breakfast to get cold."

"I'll be right out." I hear him walk away, so I get back to work gathering up the pieces of the paper from the floor with my hands.

It takes me about three tries, but I get it all swept up so with the toilet littered with the scraps, I flush it. Watching the tiny pieces swirl around the basin, is cathartic. Breathing in and out, I calm myself before going back out to Luke and enjoying my birthday. Christian Grey can go fuck himself, and when I see him, that's exactly what I'm going to tell him.

"There you are," Luke says when I cross the threshold into the room. "I thought you'd be showered and changed by now," he says, inspecting my outfit.

"I was going to, but I got distracted."

"Are you okay? You're flushed," he says. Scanning, my body his eyes land on the hole in my sweats at one knee and the bit of blood. His eyes go wide.

I gesture to get his attention. "Before you freak out, I'm okay and it's nothing. I was looking for something under the sink, and I scraped my knee on the floor in the process."

"Are you telling me the truth?" he asks.

"Yes." Another small lie among many.

"I have a suspicion that you're not telling me everything. But from the looks of it, I bet you can use a hug," he says, and I walk into his open arms. "It's your birthday, let's get it started right. I have your breakfast ready" he says. Then he steps aside for me to see. On the bedside table, there's a tray lined with rose petals and sitting on it is what looks like an egg dish, English muffin, and orange juice. I'm so touched that he's taken the time to prepare this for me. I clasp my hand over my mouth.

"Luke that's so sweet," I say, creeping slower to it.

Keeping up with the princess treatment, Luke has gone to clean up my dirty dishes, so I'm taking the opportunity to follow up with Ray.

"Ana, it's your birthday I should be calling you," he says and I think I hear a chuckle. A first for Ray Steele. "At least let me say happy birthday before you start talking." Since he's in rare form I acquiesce and let him have the floor.

"Thank you Ray."

"It's a big one. What do you have planned?" I can't believe Ray is choosing this moment to want to engage me in small talk. And if I weren't tied to such a tight timeline, it would make my day, but I just don't have time for it.

"The same old same old," I say, hurriedly. "I'm sorry Ray, I don't mean to rush, but I'm limited on time. I was following up to see if this weekend would be a good time to have the talk; we'd discussed.

"About your mother?" he asks. Drat, he doesn't remember.

"No. I'm done with her, dead or alive. So you don't have to worry about updating me. Either way, she's dead to me," I say, dismissively.

"Anastasia Steele." He's using my full name, as a way of reprimanding me.

"Ray you can get on me later, I promise," I say, and it comes across a little condescending. I'll worry about his backlash later right now I need to get his head back in the game. "So are you able to meet?"

"This is my big fishing weekend. I'll be gone for about ten days, but I can cancel if it's important."

"It is but it can wait."

"Are you sure? You don't sound like it can wait."

"I'm sure. After all revenge is a dish best-served cold," I blurt out.

"How dramatic, now I don't know if I can wait," Ray says as Luke walks in.

"Hey Ray, I have to get going someone is here. We'll talk soon," I say, and I end the call.

"Your stepdad?" Luke asks.

"Yes," I say setting the phone on the table.

"You didn't have to hang up."

"We were done. He just called to wish me a happy birthday." Another lie to add to the mounting list.

Luke timed it perfectly; I'm walking out of my lecture as he's pulling up to the front.

Taking brisk steps to the car, I see the passenger window start to descend. "Hey, birthday girl, you want a ride," he yells, leaning over from the driver's seat.

"It depends," I say.

"On what?"

I peek my head in the open window. "If you're good or not, "I say.

"The way I see it, I'm good when I'm bad," he says.

"Then I'm in," I say. Opening the door, I slide into the leather seat and toss my backpack to the back. "Hi, baby."

"Hey, to you," he says and leaning we give each other a peck on the lips.

"I'd forgotten how nice it is having you pick me up," I say.

"I miss it too," he says.

"So ready to get the celebration started?" he asks as he pulls away. "Kate agreed to spend the night at a friend's so we can have the apartment to ourselves," he says.

Snapping my seat belt in, I give him a quick glance. "How did you manage that?" I ask.

"I just asked," he says, casually

"Well, then let's get this party started," I say, playfully.

Pulling up to our building, I notice a catering truck parked in front. Luke is wearing a silly grin that lets me know it has something to do with my birthday. As not to completely foil his surprise ,I say nothing. I act normal. He pulls up behind my Beetle to park and once he's out he opens my car door and as we usually do we walk hand in hand to the front door.

"Let me have the key," Luke says, sticking his palm out and I slap the keys down on it. When the door opens, I half expect balloons to fall on my head or my five friends to yell surprise, but none of it happens. Nothing happens. The apartment isn't even decorated with silly birthday decorations. I'm stunned by how crestfallen I am; so much, so I have to work to keep if from Luke, seeing it was me who poo-pooed his birthday ideas at every turn. My disappointment is inexplicable.

"Are you okay?" he ask as he helps me with my book bag and purse.

"Yes. Why you ask?"

"You look disenchanted."

"No, why would I be?" I ask.

"I'd say you were expecting something," he says, smirking, "a party maybe or something like that." Staring at me, he's wearing an I- told -you so grin. Holding my hand he leads me further into the room. "Marissa," he calls and out walks an attractive woman dressed in a chef's outfit. Ironically, she reminds me of Alison, except her hair is longer, she's shorter and about ten pounds heavier. Still, I can tell she has a banging body, even in the unflattering uniform.

"Yes Luke," she says.

"I would like for you to meet the birthday, girl. Ana, this is Marissa she's my buddy's wife. Marissa is a talented chef, and she's graciously agreed to cater your birthday dinner for me. "You didn't think I would let day go by without something special," he whispers, bending so only I can hear.

Stepping closer, Marissa extends her hand, and we shake.

"Nice to meet you," she says, releasing my hand.

"The same. Thank you in advance for dinner. I'm excited."

"I don't thank me until you've taste it."

"Marissa is being modest. She's a chef to watch. There's a waiting list for her catering services," Luke says, and she blushes.

"The truck outside says catering for Two or More. Is it yours?" I ask.

"Yes. I cater for small parties from two to no more than 20. My specialty is dinner parties consisting of two to four guests. Enough about me, today is about you. And to commemorate the special day, I took some cues from Luke to prepare the perfect meal. I'm all about farm to table, so everything tonight is fresh and local. Here's hoping I got the menu right. We're going to start with a canapé of baked oysters on potato rounds. Followed by a citrus salad with mixed greens, blood oranges, navel oranges, and pink grapefruits dressed in a spicy strawberry vinaigrette. For the main course, I have a cinnamon crusted salmon on a mound of couscous drizzled in a vanilla beurre blanc sauce. For dessert, there will be a mixed berry compote topped with homemade whipped cream. Since it is your birthday, I ordered you a cupcake from a local bakery to hold the candle.

"That sounds delicious. My mouth is already watering," I say.

"Well, I'm going to ask you two to step out of the room for a moment. The sooner we get everything set up, the sooner you can eat."

"We get the hint," Luke says. "We'll get out of your way. Come on baby let's go to your room." Putting his hand at the small of my back Luke walks me to my bedroom. As soon as, we enter the room I see a pretty flowing pale pink drink laid out on the bed.

"Kate left it for you. As well as, a pair of her shoes. She said her words, not mine. 'Ana doesn't have shit in that closet',and she handed the items to me." He does a good job mimicking Kate, and it makes me giggle.

"You know she'd kill you if she heard you."

"I know, so it's our secret," he says smiling. "While you get changed, I'll rush to my buddy's and by the time I get back, Marissa should be ready for us," Luke says.

In the shower, I mull over Christian's antic and the ominous mood it threatened to put on my day. Coincidence or his innate ability to sock it to me, inevitably he manages to ruin anything that is good in my life. But he won't get his way this time, despite his boorish behavior, he won't win tonight or long term. I'm going to enjoy my birthday, my evening with Luke plus I'm going to beat him at his own game. Keep my baby... I will die before, I let him take this baby away from me.

My bedroom door opens, and I'm forced to avert my eyes from my reflection in the mirror. Luke freezes bracing his back against the door. "That dress looks beautiful on you. I may have to buy it from Kate," he says softly. "You look. I can't find the words."

Rarely, do I think I look good, like ever, but I have to agree with Luke, tonight I do. It's the best I've looked since the night that will live in infamy. So unlike me, I actually took some time with my appearance. I used many of the tips from the glam squad that helped me get ready that night. Not as effectively I might add, but not too bad either.

"You will not buy this dress from Kate," I say, warning him. Keeping his eyes locked on mine, Luke stalks to where I'm standing and hungrily inspects me.

Resting his hands on the either side of my waist, he smiles wryly. "That will be my decision, not yours." He smiles salaciously. "You should worry, that I don't rip it off you," he says, huskily and he leans in giving me a peck on the lips. Dropping his hands, he lifts mine. "Let's get out of here before I do just that. Marissa is ready for us."

When we walk into Kate's and mine's living room, I don't recognize it. It has been transformed into an intimate dining setting for two. Most of the furnishing has been pushed against the walls and in the center of the room is a table draped in a white table cloth. The tablescape is modern and fresh; a mixture of citrus, flowers, and a simple candle. The chairs are covered in the same white fabric as the table and draped with gold sashes. The light is dimmed so the single candle flickering warmly sets the mood. And further setting the tone for the evening a Nora Jones station is playing on repeat, right now "Come away with me," is the track we hear.

"Marissa has left, one of her staff will be attending to us," Luke says.

I tilt my head at him. "Staff. How hoity-toity?"

"Relax. It's how she runs her business. I didn't pay her extra for the special attention. "Now let's sit. You need to eat."

"Oh my God, that was so good," I say as I dab the sides of my mouth with my napkin.

"Dinner was great now it's time for the real fun. The presents." Luke tosses his napkin to the table and pushes his chair back. I eagerly wait for him to walk away to have my chance at ogling him.

Luke always looks like a male model to me, but more so tonight. One from one of those slick ad campaigns for an expensive man's suit; he's wearing a gray suit, white shirt with tiny gray pinstripes and no tie. Just the way I like it.

As much as I love objectifying him when he returns from the kitchen it's the bag in his hand that has me riveted. I'm feeling giddy, after doing my best to discourage him, I also feel like a hypocrite but not enough to reject anything in the bag. This is the most anyone has done to celebrate my birthday, sure Kate and Lulu have given me small gifts, but nothing compared to what Luke has put together. The present is just the icing on the proverbial cake.

Luke sets the bag on the table in front of him, as he takes his seat. Reaching in he retrieves a white envelope and hands it to me. "For you," he says. "Happy birthday baby."

Taking the envelope, I carefully lift the flap and slowly pull out a card. On the outside, it reads: **_The first time I saw you I knew you were perfect_**. Inside: **_The second time I understood why_**.

"Luke-"

He breaks in, "press the button," he urges playfully. Following his instructions, I press the tiny, tiny gold button inside located at the bottom and "You're beautiful", by James Blunt starts playing.

"This is too much, I don't know if I can handle it," I whimper waving my hands in front of my misty eyes.

"I hope you can because it's just the beginning," Luke says handing me another envelope this one yellow. Setting the James Blunt card aside, I take the new envelope.

I repeat the opening process and with the card in my hand I take a moment to inspect the front and I automatically smile. It's more playful compared to the other that was on the sophisticated side. The minuscule gold button is there so I'll have to remember to press it when I'm done. There are three small checked squares, with cartoon illustrations next to each. The first box reads: **_Love at first sight_**. The second: **_Santa Clause_**. The third: **_The Easter Bunny_**. At the bottom in a different script reads: **_Which one of these are true_**? Inside in all caps reads: **_ALL OF THEM._** Right under those words in lower case are the words, **_at one point in my life I've believed in all of them; the Easter bunny and Santa Clause…and I fell in love with you at First Sight.. _**When I press the button, Christina Peri's "A Thousand Years," starts playing. This song is going to be the death of me. I close my eyes and I listen to her searing voice and beautiful lyrics.

Luke touches my hand and I open my watery eyes. "Hey. This wasn't meant to make you sad. I wanted to give you a present that reflects who you are. I remembered you joking that you should write your autobiography with music. That in mind, I wanted to do something with music for your birthday, but a CD felt like a cliché so I came up with this idea. I saw a Hallmark commercial and utilized the concept. The boss's staff at my disposal I used them to help me pull it off. A good thing he's out of the country and his staff is fast so he'll never have to know," he says, jokingly. "There's the smile that makes my heart flutter," Luke whispers.

"It's perfect. You're perfect," I say, whimpering.

"Here's the thing any perfection I have is but a flaw next you," he says, pulling his hand back to dive back into his bag of goodies.

"Unless you want me to dissolve into a pool of water, you better stop."

"Too late. There's more, but I will stop tugging on your heart string for the moment. Open this," he says handing me a long red envelope made of very thick card stock. Holding my breath, I pop open the enclosure and pull out two tickets.

"Tickets," I say. I didn't even check to see where I'm going and I'm overwhelmed.

"Read it," he implores.

"Hawaii," I shriek. My chair scrapes against the floor as I push back on it hard to get to him. Running around the table, I throw my arms around Luke's neck."

"Whoa," he says as he hooks his arm around me.

"Thank you so much. This is too much," I sob.

"It's not enough," he says and he untangles my arms from around his neck. Pushing his chair back, Luke pulls me down to his lap. "I don't I think I've ever seen someone this choked up over birthday gifts," he says, wiping the water from my face with this thumb.

"Well, I'm a lucky girl to have you," I say.

"Well let me tell you about the trip. It's for two weeks, and each week we'll have different accommodations. The first week it's the Disney's Aulani. I know you always wanted to go to Disney Worlds so consider this is a compromise since we won't get there this year. We'll save that trip for when the baby can experience Disney it too."

"You're so thoughtful to think of the baby," I say softly and I give him a peck.

"It's because I love the baby's mother," he says. "Now let me finish. The second week, I plan to rent a private home. And that's significant for this reason. When I say this, please remember that beneath you is something you may want me to utilize later on," he says, gesturing to his lap with his chin

"I will but there's nothing you can say or do that will top what you've already done."

"I'm working with Benji's owners to get him to Hawaii to spend the last week with us."

"Okay, I lied you just topped yourself," I say, bouncing up and down on his lap.

"I thought that would make you happy," he says. Then he puts his hands on my waist stilling me. "We'll work out the details later, there's something else I want to give you. Reach in the bag."

My hand trembling, I pull out an exquisite piece of ivory card stock with elegant writing, calligraphy maybe. There's a simple silver fleur-de-lis design on the top and the tiny, tiny gold at the button.

"Read it," he says. "Out loud." I do and he repeats the words with me. His breath warming my skin.

**_I've read many poets with their descriptions of love in my days_**

**_And I'm sure I've felt them all in some measurable ways_**

**_Still you've managed to make the feeling different and new_**

**_A smile, a twinkle, a raised brow it's all in what you do._**

**_I loved before, but never like I love you now_**

**_And the future of my love is limited only by what the heart will allow_**

**_I don't know what the future holds, I just hope it keeps leading me back to you._**

I press the button and "So Amazing", by Luther Vandross starts playing.

AN"

Gideon Cross-belongs to Sylvia Day

Damien Stark- belongs to J. Kenner

.


	25. Chapter 25: Happy Birthday to you PT 2

Chapter 25: Happy Birthday To You- PT 2

**Disclaimer**: FSOG belongs to EL James

**A/N:** Thank you for reading, reviewing and following - Please Enjoy

Bereft of speech, I have no words for his simple, beautiful, impassioned prose and in this case, it doesn't even matter; they'd be no match for his. I was moved and at the same time aroused. He'd touched something inside of me, I didn't realize existed. Twisting my entire body, my arms fly up going to his neck.

"Thank you, I love it. I love you," I whisper in his ear. Breathing in his fresh, clean manly scent I bury my head in the crook of his neck. He then nudges me, and tilting my head back I stare up at him. Blues eyes to blue eyes we get lost in each other as the sultry voice of Luther Vandross reverberates in the apartment. Hooking his arm around me Luke secures my body to his and keeping his eyes focused on me he reaches back with his free hand grabbing hold of the chair. Bracing against it, he starts to come to his feet with me in his lap. He stands, with me dangling from his neck and instinctively I draw my legs up locking them in place around his waist.

His laser-like stare is so intense, it feels like he's scrutinizing my every wanton line on my face, committing my expression to memory. Smirking at me lasciviously, leaning Luke reaches over to the table gathering my birthday cards holding them up. "We'll, need these," he says, a devilish grin on his face. Moving his hands to under the circle of my butt, over the fabric of my dress he cups me there nudging me upward until our lips are touching.

With me entwined around him like Ivy, Luke stalks to my bedroom, pushing the door open with his feet. Bursting inside, he drops the cards on the bed, and then with "You're so amazing", playing on repeat he steps to the dresser setting me on my feet facing the mirror.

Positioning himself at my back Luke grabs a handful of my hair, bringing it to his nose. "Mmm," he purrs, sniffing the strands as they sift through his fingers, "your hair always smell so good," he says. "You always smell so good," he says, huskily as his nose grazes my neck when he sweeps my hair to over one shoulder.

His nimble fingers find the zipper at the back of my dress and slowly bringing it down, they lightly skim the exposed skin as he goes. "Ah," I moan, his touch sending shivers over my heated skin.

Angling his head slightly to the side, Luke grins coyly, when he sees that my chest is bare under the dress. "No bra," he growls, dragging it titillatingly slow across my naked back to my shoulder, "Is this my present?"

"Yes," I say, panting. Heat pooling between my legs. He is fire and I am the moth to his flame.

"Happy birthday to me, then," he says, pushing the dress off my shoulders and down my arms. My head rolls downward, as my eyes follow it sinking to the floor pooling at my feet leaving me only in my lace thong and high heel shoes. "Hold your head up," Luke urges, "Look in the mirror," he orders, gently.

Bringing my head forward, I stare in the mirror salivating as he undresses. It's all very, _Eyes Wide Shut_, and sultry as all get out; me watching him watching me watching him. Luke makes quick work of his clothing and soon his perfect physique is on display for me to savor. And I can't resist it no more so stepping from under the pink cloud at my feet, I swivel abandoning my post in front of the mirror to come face to face with his chiseled body. The sweat glistening on every inch of it, is creating a devilish playground and I can't wait for my chance to play.

Tilting my head up, I stare longingly in his eyes dark with need as my palms hover inches from his chest, teasing him. When I finally touch him, I feel his body jerk beneath my fingers and I hear his soft intake of breath. Except the smattering of hair at the center, his chest is smooth. The sweat making it easy for my hands to glide over the plain of it appreciating his every muscle; exploring his body in ways I'd never had. Sure I've buried my face between his legs and curled my lips around his length, but never this.

My hands landing on his nipples, I decide turnaround is fair play; so giving him a playful grin I tweak them. Hard. A low moan escapes his mouth. Upping the pleasure quotient, I bend my head down grazing my teeth over one nipple, before sucking and taking it between my teeth biting down hard. Then I do the same to the other.

"Yesss," he says, moaning weaving his hands through my hair tugging on it so he can stay upright.

Shaking my head to loosen his grip on my hair, I start making my way down his torso, peppering kisses on every peak and valley as I go. Peeking up at him through my lashes, Luke is looking down at me in awe. Bringing my head back down, I pause at the patch of hair that leads to the place that brings me unbelievable joy. And then breathing in his spicy, musky, manly essence, I plant feather kisses all the way down his happy trail stopping at his erection. Popping the hard member in my mouth, I take him to the back of my throat.

"Oh fuck," Luke cries out.

When he returns from his mind altering orgasm, Luke reaches down and putting his hands on both sides of my face he brings me up to his face. Tilting his head down, Luke sucks my lips teasing them apart and his tongue easily slides in probing my mouth and swirling around my tongue. Deepening the kiss, he bites on my lower lip until there is the faint taste of blood and sucking on my tongue feverishly he mixes the tastes. It's dark and very erotic. Releasing me, Luke licks the remaining spec of blood from my lip.

"You're amazing," he says and his eyes are carnal," and I want to be inside you now." Spinning me so I'm again facing the mirror, Luke shoves me against the dresser and hitching his finger in the small lace triangle he rips it from my body.

Positioning himself between my legs, Luke then takes his feet nudging my feet further apart as he rubs his semi-hard length against my buttocks until he's again fully erect. But it is when he comes close to the entrance of my rosebud, I flinch. I'm concerned that I won't be able to take him without the proper pre-planning; the condoms, the lube, and not to mention the mental preparation.

Twisting my hair around his hand Luke bends his head and he nibbles on my earlobe. "Relax," he whispers in my ear, "not tonight," he says and my body visibly sags. "I can't wait anymore," he says, breathing hard he releases my hair and he hooks his arm around my waist forcing my behind to jut outward. Then removing his arm, he brings it forward resting his forearm on my spine holding me in place and he penetrates me in one deep thrust. The shock of it making me cry out, and the force propelling me forward.

"So, so, good," Luke says, grunting. It's a guttural sound he makes. "You feel…," he says, hoarsely as he slams into me again. "It's heaven," he growls out. Then he stills, gearing up for more. "Keep your eyes open," he says, "I want you to see what I see. How beautiful you are when you're being fucked."

Fixing my eyes on the scene playing out in the mirror, I don't see the same woman he'd described. She's not beautiful, she's not unattractive…she's me. Plain Anastasia, skin glowing with perspiration and flushed with a heat that can only be extinguished by the gorgeously handsome man taking her unapologetically hard. Luke's got it all wrong, he's the beautiful one in this scenario. I'd never noticed the way his full lips curl up into a perfect O when he's at the precipice. Or the way his pectoral muscles flex when he thrusts into me, or the way his biceps bulge when he really goes deep. And now that he's coming undone, I'm mesmerized by the full range of emotion his face is able to convey when he orgasms. Then feeling my walls clenching around him, I succumb to the pleasure of darkness.

I didn't know when it happened when I'd lost consciousness, but I did. For a moment anyway. It wasn't a loss of consciousness in the true sense of the word, more like a moment of sublime ecstasy, with all the clichés; fireworks, stars, yadda, yadda, yadda. I experienced it all and it was great. I feel so in love I'm stupefied.

"Hopefully, I put that smile on your face," Luke says, when he approaches the bed, holding the damp washcloth he'd gone to retrieve. Putting his hand down, he causes the bed to dip slightly before he rests a knee on the edge.

A megawatt smile on my face, I sit up and throw myself at him wrapping my arms around his neck almost knocking him backward. "You most certainly did," I say, emphatically as I tug on his neck pulling him closer to me. I need him. I need him inside me. Abruptly, I untangle my arms from his neck and gaze into his kind beautiful face. "Make love to me," I tell him. It's a quiet plea rather than a desperate call to action. "I want to feel you in me again."

Tucking my sweat-drenched hair, behind my ears, his loving eyes look deep into mine.

"You're insatiable," he says, smirking.

"It's your fault, you opened my small mind up to the myriad of possibilities."

"What, sexy?" he asks, choking back his laughter.

"Yes. You've enlightened me sexually. Awakening me in ways I never could've imagined. Most importantly it's the way you love me when you make love to me." Crushing his lips to mine, Luke pushes me backward taking me into a passionate kiss.

Hovering over me, he rubs the pad of his thumb along my bottom lip. "I've gotta a lot to live up to," he murmurs. "Then I better get you clean so I can dirty you up again." He smirks, and reaching out to the bedside table, he selects "You're beautiful" meanwhile I get in a better positioned.

Picking up the washcloth, the bed dips further as he crawls between my legs and standing on his knees, Luke presses down on my inner thighs forcing them wider apart. And without preamble, he starts dragging the warm cloth along my folds grazing the nub before bringing it to my thighs. Trimmers cover my body and I whimper murmuring my pleasure.

"Stay still," Luke says and he lays his body out flat between my legs. Parting my folds he stretches me to my limit, so I'm open wide to him.

As he inspects my wetness, with his eyes and his fingers, I don't feel any of the shame or vulnerability I did early on in our relationship. Now that we've progressed and I've matured in my sexuality, I'm finding this very arousing. I feel like an exhibitionist on display for his pleasure. And nothing gives me more pleasure than giving him pleasure.

"Oh Luke," I say, purring.

"Yes baby," he says, gently squeezing my folds until the lips meet. Rubbing them together against the nub he creates a friction that makes my body lift from the bed. Arching my back, sounds come from my mouth I don't recognize.

"Tell me what you want, baby," Luke says, blowing over my nub.

"You know," I say, squirming.

"Maybe so," he chuckles, "but I still want to hear you say it," he says, blowing on me again.

"You inside me," I say, moaning.

"Your wish is my command," he croaks. Then he inserts a finger inside me slowly moving it in and out.

"Oh yes," I say, whimpering. Arching my head, I bury the back of it into my pillow.

Luke then starts alternating between his finger and his tongue as he pleasures my core. Probing my walls, he hits me at that soft spot he knows will send me spiraling into a mind-blowing climax. As my body shakes and I scream his name, Luke sucks on my nub, until my orgasm courses through me.

Coming down from my high, I feel Luke crawling up my body and I open my eyes to him hovering over me with a satisfied grin playing on his face.

"Hey you," he says.

"Hey," I say, barely lucid.

Running the tip of his tongue along the seam of my lips, he rams it inside my mouth so I can suck my arousal off of it. Then he thrusts it taking the kiss deeper devouring my mouth. Pulling his tongue back, he breaks the kiss giving me a chance to catch my breath, and him the opportunity to give my swollen mounds some attention.

"Your breasts are perfect," he says popping one in his mouth sucking it before releasing it to flick the nipple with his tongue. "Luckily I had a good teacher so now I know what to do with these," he says, mockingly looking up at me through lashes any woman would envy.

"Good, then practice what you preach," I say sarcastically, taunting him with the title of a popular Barry White song.

"Game on," he says. Lifting his face up, I see his wry smile. Tilting his head back down, Luke mirrors the ways I'd manipulated his nipples; sucking, biting, and tweaking eliciting soft moans from me.

"Is that practice enough for you," he says, bringing his head forward.

"You don't have to be so smug you know?"

"No," he says, nodding his head. "Smug is when I have you screaming my name in pleasure and begging me to fuck you harder." My eyes glued to his mouth, I swallow the lump at the base of my throat. I'm wet again and I'd just come. Damn him.

"Just take me, will ya?" I cry out.

Chuckling, he gives me a chaste kiss on the nose. "In due time," he says, and lovingly he runs the back of his knuckles up and down the sides of my face. Hovering over me he stares into my eyes like he's seeing into my soul and begging for entry.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you," he says. Struck by the vulnerability in his voice, I bite my bottom lip for the first time since Christian's idle threat as I try to discern if he's making a simple declaration of love or something more.

"Luke, what are you saying, I'm not good at reading between lines," I say, and a smile is lurking on his face. "Yeah, yeah I know. It's an ironic statement coming from me, seeing that I'm the queen of ambiguity," I say, sardonically.

"Ironic, it is," he says and he rolls to his side, coming up on his elbow. "As for the meaning, it's no more than a statement of fact. You know this already, I've never lied to you about my feelings," he says.

"Do you think I've lied?" I whisper and he eyes me speculatively.

"That's for you to know. I only know my heart," he says.

"At first I was tentative and a little unsure, but I've never lied," I say, softly. "I was expecting straightforward and clean, but I'm learning that love is messy. But no longer held hostage by my own fear, I'm ready to embrace it with you," I say.

"Is that your not subtle way of saying, you were hoping for a proposal?"

"No, I like what we have. I'm way too young to think about marriage, despite my predicament," I say grimacing, as I tilt my head down gesturing to my stomach. "Besides, I want you to propose to me when you don't have to ask me that question," I say. Climbing back on top of me, Luke reaches to the bedside table fumbling with turning off "You're beautiful and starting "A thousand years".

"Finally," he says, snickering.

"Ever, heard of iTunes?"

"Cute, smarty pants," he says. Lowering his face to my stomach, Luke places a soft kiss on the barely visible bulge and talks to it. Saying I love you too. An audible gasp escapes me and my eyes water up.

"You slay me, Luke Sawyer," I say, whimpering and crawling back up my body, he positions his elbows on either side of my head.

"Baby, bring your knees up," he says, hoarsely. His erection is dangling close to my entrance so when I bring my knees up, all Luke has to do is flex his hip to drive his cock into me, penetrating my core. Deep

"Ah," I moan.

"Feel it" he whispers in my ear, grunting as he keeps drilling into me going deeper and deeper."Sex jist git betta and betta wit you," he says, grunting as he slamming in and out of me.

Burying his face in my hair, Luke bears down on his elbows stroking me harder and deeper until I'm screaming his name and begging.

Lifting up on his elbows Luke gazes at me. "I want to see you come," he says, driving into me taking me to the precipice and falling over the edge with me into an earth-shattering orgasm. Still inside of me Luke murmurs his pleasure as we start to come down from our orgasm my phone rings cutting through our conjoined heavy breathing.

This can't be happening.

My body, twitches. "You're not seriously thinking about answering that," Luke says panting, and his now soft cock shifts as his body move slightly. He'd accurately voiced my internal debate.

There's no need to answer, my body language is giving me away. Keeping his head buried in my pillow, and his soften length lodged inside of me he waits for me to tell him something other than what he already knows. Finally surrendering to the inevitable, Luke slides out of me falling on his back next to me muttering"Goddamnit!"

Bolting upright, "I whisper," I'm sorry to him in my sincerest voice, as I snatch the ringing phone from the bedside table knocking something to the floor in the process. Giving him a sideways glance I put the phone to my ear hurriedly answering the call before it goes to voice mail.

Luke's forearm is covering his eyes, so I can't tell what he's thinking, but his lips are in a firm line.

"You," I shout to the caller throwing my legs over the edge of the bed leaping to the floor. "Don't hang up," I say, racing to get to the trench coat conveniently draped over the back of the chair. My fingers trembling, I hit mute and switching the phone from one hand to the other I slip on the coat. Ignoring Luke's cum seeping out of me and running down one thigh, I shove my feet into the chucks nearby.

I'd not bothered confirming the caller, it wasn't necessary. A soon as, I'd heard the first ring I'd known it was him, it is why my body reacted so viscerally. I should've known I would have known, so I don't why I fell all over myself answering those other rings.

With the precision of a race car pit crew, I'm ready within seconds and barreling towards the door the only thing stopping my perpetual motion, Luke calling to me.

"Catch," he yells out and I see a small white mass heading towards me. The phone ensconced in my hand I catch the projectile. It's the washcloth he'd used on me moments earlier. Stuffing it in my pocket, in a flash I disappear out the door.

Filled with guilt, I press the mute button reestablishing communication between me and the caller. I'm gutted seeing Luke, so pained but the means justifies the end. This is for my child. He has to understand, I will do my darndest to make sure he does.

"Okay," I say, scrambling to get to the kitchen where I can go outside. Back there my voice won't carry, I can talk more freely. It's a crisp, clear night, the stars are peppering the sky, the romantic kind of night I should be enjoying with Luke, as it is, I'm wiping his juices from my thighs. Overlooking the ridiculousness of it I pull the belt of the trench coat tighter around my waist trying to shield my body from the slight chill in the air, and the chill from the guilt that is swarming over me.

"Anastasia, what the fuck is going on?" Christian, yells pulling me from my thoughts.

"Never mind, it's not important," I say, dryly. "I don't know if Christian has heard something or if he's fishing. I'm not taking any chances and I'm taking control steering this conversation to where I want it to go. "What's important is how you dare set up a Dr.'s appointment for me without first consulting me," I say, angrily. Seething at his audacity, seeing that I'd called him asking for a truce.

"Excuse me," he barks, "what have I missed?" His tone is dripping with sarcasm and I brace myself for his response to his rhetorical question. "When did any of this get to be up for discussion? Let me remind you-" Is all he gets out before I break in.

"Let me save you the trouble, if you're about to throw that bogus contract in my face, you can forget it. I'm no longer stuck on stupid. I know it's not worth the paper it's written on. Or it wasn't because I destroyed it. Sorry to foil your trumped up plan to force me into giving up my baby," I say, my voice steady and strong.

"What? You thought that was the only copy," he says, cockily. "Oh, Anastasia you foolish young girl. You surprise me, I thought you were smarter. You've seriously underestimated me. You're not stupid, you're stuck on naïve." Condescending prick. I interrupt him anxious to knock him down a peg or two.

"It could be argued that I'm naïve and stupid. Stupid, for naively thinking you were a good guy, but that's beside the point. The fact that the contract is bogus is the point. So it doesn't matter how many copies you have locked away in your safe. I'm no longer threatened by it," I say, letting it sink in that he no longer has anything to hold over me. Aside from the fire he's breathing through the phone he's quiet.

And I don't know if it's because he's taking me away from Luke or because I feel like I've nothing to lose, my confidence is through the roof and it's so freeing. Despite preparing myself for this call, I thought I would crumble at the mere sound of his voice. Under the weight of his celebrity, but I'm holding my own. Admittedly having the conversation over the phone is a big part of my discovery of a backbone.

"Fuck it. Fuck the useless paperwork, as you've so eloquently put it. I don't need it. I can still crush you. You are delusional if you think you can take me on in any arena and win. My money and my power aside, you have a credibility issue, Miss Steele," he says, his smugness oozing through the phone.

"And you don't?" I say and I'm just as smug. "The way I see it, Mr. Grey, you have more of a credibility problem than me. After all, you're the powerful businessman that got me a naïve virginal 17-year-old girl pregnant. It may not be a crime, but most people will find it morally reprehensible. A man in your position taking advantage of such an innocent young woman. What do you think the good citizens of Seattle; not to mention, the rest of the world will think about your questionable behavior?" I say turning my perceived weakness into a strength. It's a strategy I'd picked up from The Art of War, The Art of the Deal, or some other book favored by powerful businessmen.

"You have some fucking nerve," he snarls, "taking the moral high ground when you put me in this untenable position by lying."

"I'm sorry, but I think that argument has been ligated to death," I say, deadpan and I can tell by his breathing, he's flustered. He wasn't expecting this, me standing up to him.

"Fuck you and your righteous indignation, you lie to me and now you want to make me out to be the villain-"

"Excuse me, I don't have too, you're doing a fine enough job of that on your on," I snip, cutting him off. I couldn't resist it was too easy.

"So you think it's funny? Lying is but a game to you, huh Anastasia?"

"No, lying is not funny, but your behavior is, it's over the top. I've apologized to you over and over again for misleading you. But instead of being reasonable, you've remained steadfast in your stubbornness. Hell bent on crucifying me. Punishing me," I say, sighing. "It has hurt me deeply, but I've accepted that you'd regret sleeping with me. It's your prerogative," I say and he's silent so I continue. "Despite your regrets, you created a baby with me so now we need to find a way to co-parent or at the least get along.

"Co- parent," he snickers. "That's laughable, it will never happen," he says and he take a long dramatic pause before he speaks again. "Nice speech, but I'm not ready to offer you absolution. Clear your conscious by declaring lying as petty and insignificant. The way I see it, it's the best indicator of a person's character we have," he says and I try to stifle a sigh. "I'm sorry, am I boring you, Anastasia?"

"No, you're not Christian," I say, pacing nervously. "I never said lying was petty or insignificant nor do I believe it's an automatic disqualifier. To hold that as self-evident, it would mean you've never lied," I say. Holding the phone away from my ear, I gaze up at the stars counting them. Calmer, I pick up where I left off. "And I know that's not true because despite your God complex…you're not God, Christian. And I'm not one of your flock you can bring to heel." Instead of some snappy retort, he chuckles.

"Of course you're not. To be part of a flock would indicate that you're holy and despite your holy than thou attitude you're no angel," he says, paraphrasing me. Mocking me. "To be considered part of the holy, you'd have to repent of your whoring ways," he says. His words are callous, but not surprising. It's a rehashing of his same tired tagline.

"I'd wondered how long it would take you to get there. I guess I should commend you for not making it the first word out of your mouth," I say, sarcastically. "This is what I'm curious to know, where is your proof? The reality is, I've only slept with two men in my life. You and the man whose bed I'd just left," I say and there's dead silence. I can't even hear him breathing. And I'm angry with myself for letting him get to me and veering from the script. Playing into his hands and opening myself up to his ridicule. Squeezing my eyes closed, I wait for his scathing comeback.

"There's all the fucking proof I need. Fucking one man and getting out his bed for another one. Sounds like a whore move to me," he says, calmly, but there's a cold fury to his tone, chilling me to the bone and freezing me in place. But I have no one to blame, I stepped in it. I made it too easy for him. "What, he couldn't get it up? You need me to get you off, Anastasia?" His arrogance knows no bounds and I feel violent towards him. I wish I could crawl through this phone and slap his conceited face.

"Are you asking or begging?" I say, coquettishly going right back at him. "If you think I'm a whore, Christian? You slept with me what does that make you?" I ask and let the question hang out there for a moment. "My pimp?"

"No. It makes you my whore," he responds immediately. "Give up Anastasia. You won't win the battle of wills and you sure as hell won't win in the courts."

"Tell me, Christian, what does me giving up look like to you?" I ask and answer. "Let me guess, handing my baby over to you to be raised by your parents and never seeing it again. If that remains the expectation, you can go to hell. I will never give up this baby," I say, shouting at him and it takes everything I have not to hurl the phone in frustration.

"Funny, listening to you one would think I was the ruler over hell," he says, and I think I hear him chuckle.

"The devil you mean?" I snap back before he can continue.

"Ha, ha" he chortles, "Normally, I'd find your quick wit charming but not today. Your wasting my time. Tell me Anastasia is this your final position?"

"Yes, it is Christian. I will fight for this child the way your mother should've fought for you and mine for me. Now if you want to sign away your parental rights to this beautiful, smart child growing inside of me, again it's your prerogative. Misguided, but your prerogative. For me, I'll choose to be this baby's mother over and over again. Even if that means going up against you and your minions."

"Choice," he screams. "When did I get a choice in any of this? You manipulated the whole situation, from the moment you chose to lie to me about your age, trick me into believing you were on the pill, and even down to choosing to have this baby. There was no consideration for what I wanted. Shouldn't I been able to choose when I wanted to have a baby and with whom. There are reasons, I 'm not ready to be a father, none of which I'm willing to get into," he says. For the first time, he's giving me a glimpse inside his head and I have a better appreciation for his point of view. He's twisting the facts, but at least he's being forthcoming. Going beyond the raw emotions and name calling it feel like we're getting somewhere.

"Again let me apologize for any of the wrong I've done to you. But let me repeat I had no intentions of getting pregnant and I sure as heck never envisioned you being the father. How could I, when you were so far out of my reach even when I could touch you. Unfortunately, we can't go back in time and change our reality," I say. "View this through a positive lens, in a strange twist of fate your right to choose has been restored. In your hands is the power to make the right choice for your child and stop the madness."

"I am, that's why I'm not taking this likely. You've done nothing to persuade me that this child would better off in your custody," he says. "Your situation is too similar to my birthmother's and I can't in good conscious let a child grow up in the way that I did. She too boasted of fighting for me, so those words don't move me in the least," he says, his voice trails. In the way, it does when he talks about his mother in any meaningful way. He's showing vulnerability, even if it was not his intention. So I soften too.

"Did her eyes light when you entered the room?"

"What?" he asks.

I repeat for him, something I heard Maya Angelou say on the Oprah Winfrey show and it has stuck with me ever since. Sadly, it was because I so identified with it. My mother's eyes never lit up for me, heck, she barely acknowledged me when I was in a room.

"No." His one-word answer speaks volume. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Everything. To me, it shows that a child is the center of their parents' universe. And this I promise to you, my eyes will sparkle every time our child walks into a room. That's at least one fundamental difference between your birth mother and me.

"I have a question for you and I need an honest answer."

"Certainly."

"What role will the man you're currently fucking play in your life when this baby is born?"

"If you mean the man I'm currently dating, it's too early to say and frankly it's none of your business."

"I beg to differ, and if that's your stance, it further bolsters my claim that you're too immature to care for a child. As the father, I'd have every right to know the caliber of the men my child is being exposed too. If for no other reason, then security. I'm a very wealthy man so proper security would be paramount. The fact that you'd be so careless as to so easily dismiss my concerns shows that you'll be a more inept mother than I'd first thought."

"You've twisted my words to create your own narrative. If you were honest with yourself, you'd admit that the question had nothing to do with security concerns for this baby. It was your way of delving into my personal life, more specifically my sex life. It was misogynistic," I say and I flip the question turning it on him. "What about the women in your life, would they be subjected to the same scrutiny?"

"It's not a relevant question for me, I'm not seeking custody. I've freely admitted that this child would be better off with Grace and Carrick," he says.

"Again, you need to do some soul searching. If you're going to be so cruel and heartless at least be honest about why. This whole thing is more about crime and punishment than child welfare. You're seeking retribution for the wrong you think I've done to you.

"I'd advise you to think along and hard about the path you're about to embark upon. If our conversations have been uncomfortable, wait until I unleash my bevy of attorneys on you.

"Three words for you. David and Goliath."

"We're not living in biblical time, and that's lucky for," he says, condescendingly.

"Why Christian, because I have sex? Silly me," I say, scoffing. "I thought we were getting somewhere, but we always end up here, you labeling me a whore. And in your warped way of thinking you want it to be true, then you'd be able to justify everything you're doing and resolve yourself of any culpability. The truth is I'm a young woman in a committed relationship who enjoys having sex with her partner, and if that makes me a whore in your distorted world, so be it. I'm no longer going to wear your shame, the scarlet letter you've tried to force feed down my throat. Yes, I've tested my sexual limits in all the ways you've thrown in my face to make me feel dirty and unworthy. But thankfully in my healthy relationship I've been enlightened. These things are not taboo, but the natural extension of the trust shared between two consenting adults-"

"Adult, you're not a fucking adult," he screams at the top of his lung interrupting me. "You're a petulant child trying to play grown up games. That speech was self-indulgent serving no other purpose than to let me know you can fuck and take it up the ass. If you think that makes you an adult, you're sorely mistaken. You've just proven to be another man's whore."

"Gah! You just don't get it. You're so frustrating. You can't see that your fixation on my sex-life is clouding your judgment. I don't why you're so obsessed, but I'm done having the discussion with you. To put your troubled mind to rest, let me give you something you can sink your teeth into," I say. I may regret it, but I'm going all in and giving him a taste of his own medicine so we can finally put this whore thing to rest. "When I hang up from you, I'm going to walk back inside and I'm going to let him bend me over the back of the sofa and take me from behind. And because I'm officially an adult tonight, and oh yeah his whore, I'm going to suck his dick." There's a loud intake of breath on his end. "Good night, Christian," I say innocuously and then there's a loud thud before the phone goes dead. Darn, I was trying to hang up on him before he hung on me, but I guess he beat me to the punch. Oh well, I got my point across.

"Stick that in your pipe and smoke it," I mumble to the phone, sticking my tongue out at, as I make my way back into the apartment.

Stuffing the phone into my pocket, I get acclimated to the warmth of the apartment. It was colder outside than I'd thought, the adrenaline had me misjudging the temperature. Hugging myself, I run my hands up and down my arms in an attempt to warm up, as I look around for the garbage can. Lifting it I toss the dirty washcloth inside.

Then needing to see Luke and feel his arms around me I head to the living room.

I enter the room feeling full of myself because of how I stood up to Christian, but when I see Luke sitting down looking circumspect, my attitude changes. Any win with Christian is beginning to feel like a loss.

Luke has already dressed, going as far as to put on his suit jacket and sitting he's leaning forward his head slightly bowed supported by his elbows balancing on his thighs. His steeple fingers worrying his bottom lip as he stares aimlessly at the floor.

"Luke," I say, calmly but firmly and his head snaps up pinning me with his glare. "You're dressed," I say taking a step further into the room but not venturing too far from where I am. I'm reluctant to get too close despite my desire to run to him and beg him for his forgiveness.

"What you expected, that I'd still be naked waiting in your bed for you like your lap dog," he says, tersely. "What, he didn't get you off?" he says, abruptly standing causing the chair to crash to the floor creating a loud bang. I jump though I saw it happening. His biting words cut like a knife, but I guess I deserve as much.

"That's not fair," I say whining, "but I guess I deserve it," I admit to him.

He turns to me and his disdain is evident. Crushing me. He'd never looked at me with such accusatory eyes. "How big of you," he says sarcasm coloring every word. "It's not about what you deserve, it's about what you don't deserve...Me," he says shouting the last word and holding my gaze to punctuate his point.

"What are you saying?" I ask. My voice is shaky as I stifle a sob. My heart won't let my ears hear what he's trying to tell me. Resolve is etched on his beautifully handsome face. Even in his disheveled state the camera would love him, he could be in an ad campaign for something brooding and mysterious.

"I'm done," he says, his eyes still focused on me.

"Luke please don't say that. Please let me explain. I'll tell you everything."

"Too late, the time for that was before you answered a call from your ex in the middle of us having sex."

"We weren't in the middle of sex," I murmur.

"Symantec Ana. My cum was still wet between your legs," he says, crudely but it's the jolt I needed to under the magnitude of what I've done.

"Luke it had nothing to do with him and everything to do with my baby. I love you," I say.

"Those are just words Ana," he booms his hands animated at his head. "Without substance they're just words. Where's the action?" he asks, running his hand through his hair. "You were given a prime opportunity to put actions behind words that you throw out like you're doing me some kind of favor," he says, shrugging. "You chose him, and the way I see it you always will," he says, and he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip. "Your roommate was right." Is all he says without elaborating?

What did Kate tell him? I'll deal with her later.

"I don't know what you and Kate discussed, but I felt like we'd turned a corner tonight. That our relationship was fortified," I whimper stepping closer to him, but he backpedals.

"Don't," he snarls and I stop. "I warned you not to take me for granted."

"We're not over, you love me," I say, defiantly. "You told me. The cards. This," I say, gesturing with my head around the room. "All of it, you did it all because you love me," I repeat, this time my tone is softer and more conciliatory.

"Yes. And in the end none of it mattered," he says, staring at me intently and my shoulders starts shaking as my sobs overtake me.

I hear his footsteps, and when he closes the distance between us he cups my chin. Ignoring the tears streaking down my cheeks, Luke rubs his thumb over my bottom lip and I close my eyes relishing his touch. When I open them, Luke has resolve written all over his face "Yes, I do," he says, softly. "But you don't." His voice is faint and he lets his hand fall away as he steps backward keeping his eyes trained on me.

"Yes, I do," I say, whimpering. My voice trembling.

Pausing, he stuffs his hand in his pants pocket pulling out his car keys tossing and catching them before pivoting and heading to the front door.

"Luke, please don't go," I plead.

Pivoting, he makes sure he has my attention before he opens his mouth. "Ana, you're the one who left," he says and he looks so disappointed. This devastates me more than anything, that I've disappointed him. "You're wrong," he says and he hesitates. "True love isn't messy. You know where I stand. Call me, when you know where you do."

When he puts his hand on the doorknob, I go for broke. I can't lose him now, we've come too far. "You've ruined me for any other man…for him," I blurt out, loudly. Pausing at the door Luke keeps his back to me and his hand on the knob and for a moment I think it might have worked. He says nothing. Until the sounds of his footsteps fade behind the door, I'd remained hopeful.

Pulling the phone out of my pocket I call Kate.

"Steele," Kate says, surprise I think.

"Hi, are you in bed?"

"No, but I thought you'd be," she says, giggling. "What's up?"

"I need you to tell me how badly I messed up."

"Where's Luke?"

"Gone."

"Does this have anything to do with Christian?

"Yep."

"Putting those two things together, I'd guess royally."

"Yeah, I thought so. Instead of enjoying my birthday with my boyfriend, I'm standing here alone dressed like Chester the Molester," I tell Kate. Mainly because the catchy description had been rattling around in my head and I wanted to hear it out loud. However, the attempt at levity did nothing to banish the growing pit at the bottom of my stomach.

"What?"

"Never mind, I'll explain later."

"I'm coming home. You're talking crazy talk."

"You sound too drunk to drive so call a car service and we'll get your car tomorrow."

"Okay," she says and I end the call.

Walking in the bedroom, I flip the light on then off, before I drag myself to the bed. Tripping over something, I bend picking up the stationary with the poem Luke had written for me. It was what had fallen in my rush to get to the phone. Slowly rising, I plop down on the edge of the bed reliving the moment he'd given it to me.

**CPOV**

Even as I watched the phone crash into the door shattering into pieces, I knew it wouldn't be enough to get the image out of my mind. She took too much pleasure in giving me a color commentary on what she's going to let that fucker do her, better yet what she was going to do to him.

It took everything in me not to reach through the phone, dragging her pregnant skinny ass, across the pacific putting her over my knee giving her the spanking of her life. And it would have nothing to do with my pleasure.

Still wheeling, I'm not exactly sure what just happened. Did little Ms. Steele just handled me? I've never had anyone talk to me like that, man or woman, definitely not a smart mouth teenage girl. Get it together Grey, you're losing control, you need to shut her down.

Her birthday. it's her birthday, in the US anyways. How could I've forgotten, the date had been seared into my brain. Eighteen, she's eighteen, it's only a year difference yet eighteen sounds so wrong. "Fuck me." I can't get her voice out of my head. The image of her lips on his cock. "Suck his dick my ass," I seethe as I look around for something to throw.

Running my hand through my hair, I stare at the hotel phone. I need to work out this frustration before I destroy this hotel room

"Taylor," I bark.

"Sir."

"I need you to find me an Olympic caliber kick boxer and get him here in the next hour and I don't give a fuck about the cost." I say, and for the first time since working for me I think I hear Taylor hesitate about something I'm requesting.

What the fuck? Had the world gone mad while I slept?

"Sir, you have a meeting in about 30 minutes."

"I don't give a fuck cancel it," I shout, running my hand through my hair.

"But sir, the meeting is why GEH came to Taiwan."

Fuck.

"Call Roz and tell her to handle it. Better yet have her call me," I say exasperated that I've allowed her to get me so fazed, I can't even function. "And Taylor, order me a new iPhone." 


	26. Chapter 26:Morning After: The Fallout

Chapter 26: The morning after : The fallout

**Disclaimer:** Fifty Shades of Grey belongs to EL James

Damien Stark- J. Kenner

**A/N:** Thank you for reading, following, reviewing and enjoy

Showered and changed into the new comfy pajamas I'd bought for myself as a birthday present, I pick my phone up and head out the bedroom door. Stepping into the living room at the same time as Kate, I watch with mild curiosity as she scans the space.

"What do you think?" I shout from across the room.

"Nice," she says, shrugging her shoulders, "not my taste. Too Martha Stewart for me." Continuing further into the room she comes to the area where our sofa should be. Evaluating the empty spot, she gestures with her hands and makes a half turn," so where are we going to sit?" she asks when her eyes land on me.

Walking towards her I pause at the small table, a reminder of the perfect night interrupted, "we could use these chairs," I say to Kate. "Or we could move the furniture back into place." From the way she's studying the furniture lining the perimeter of the wall, I can tell that she's mentally calculating the man hours it would take to make this happen. "What's your pleasure?" I ask, calling her attention back to me.

"Neither," she says, "let's just sit on the floor."

"I'm game," I say, pointing a finger behind me. "Hey, I'm going to the kitchen, can I get you anything?"

"Water," she says, smacking her lips loudly, "I should get some liquid in my system, that doesn't include the use of grapes, yeast, and the fermentation process."

"I agree," I say teasingly, but I'm only half joking. Lately, Kate has been drinking too much for my liking. "I could make you some coffee?" I say

"No. Thanks, I'll stick with water."

"Okay. I'll get our drinks if you can set up the pillows?"

"Got it," she says, toeing off her ballet flats while I saunter to the kitchen.

Squeezing her eyes tightly, Kate shifts uncomfortably on her pillow and scoots in closer to me. Her eyes flutter open assessing me, questioning my judgment. "Let me make sure I understand you correctly. You made Luke pull out of you so you could take a damn phone call from Christian Grey of all people," she says, screaming in my face. "A man except for one shining moment, has done nothing but make your life a living hell." My lips start quivering. Meanwhile, seething she pushes off her pillow leaping to her feet and starts pacing angrily, half way through her hands flying to her waist signaling that she'd bypassed the angry stage.

And I'm about to offer her my response until she happens to glare down at me, and her facial expression is downright intimidating so my mouth snaps closed. Her scrutinizing eyes wide and anger coursing through her, Kate opens her mouth to say something, but then she closes it and starts pacing again. She so incensed, she's rendered herself speechless.

"Kate, you've misinterpreted what I said. Luke and I weren't in the middle of having sex," I say in my defense, but Kate scoffs at me. My eyes start watering, her rebuke a strong condemnation of the choices I'd made and like Luke, her disappointment in me is feeding the ire and eating me alive.

"Ana you're splitting hairs. Does it really matter, a flying rat's ass, if he was in the middle of fucking you or coming down from an orgasm? His dick was still lodged in your twat when you took Christian's call," she rails at me pinning me with her heated glare. She'd found her voice just in time, her words are biting, salacious and factually correct but not a completely accurate real-time description of how things had gone down. To set the record straight, I'd have to introduce the secretion of our bodily fluids into the equation, and to me that'd be too graphic, bordering on pornographic. Not to mention, a classic case of TMI so instead I let her scathing remarks stand uncontested.

My regret had been swift. Remorse was a more gradual revelation, creeping up on me with a vengeance making me that more vulnerable to Kate's harsh admonishment. The pity marring my face pricks Kate's heart and feeling sorry for me she lowers herself to the floor pulling me into an embrace, and I break down in her arms my head collapsing on her chest. Still crouching, she nudges me slightly causing me to lean backward. Grabbing me by the shoulders, forces me to look her directly in the eyes. When our gaze lock, some of the warmth had returned to Kate's emerald green eyes, and her features had softened some as well, making me feel less of a pariah and more like her best friend again.

"I have to ask. Was it worth it?" Her eyes trained on me, Kate lets her hands drop, as she gets positioned on a pillow.

Bringing my hands forward, I bury my face in them needing to hide my indecision from her. Her question is poignant in its simplicity, slashing through the clutter and getting to the crux of it. Regrettably, the answer isn't as straightforward; the moving pieces are of flesh and bone. I'd convinced myself the means justified the end, but I don't if I can hold that as a truth. So for all intents and purposes the jury is still out and I tell her as much.

"Steele, I'm not going to lie to you. You messed up- Big time. Essentially, you challenged Luke's manhood; for all their rhetoric men are defined by their penises and what they can do with it. Frankly, I don't know how he gets past this. He's going to need some time," she says, then she takes a pregnant pause before she continues "Time for his wounded pride and broken heart to heal. Isn't that all it takes…time?" She says sarcastically.

"But he has too," I say sniffling, wiping my running nose with the back of my hand. "He has to forgive me."

"Be patient and give him his space. Put yourself in his position."

"You don't think he's going to forgive me do you?"

"Ana, to be honest with you, I wouldn't, but I think Luke will. The man is madly in love with you. I've never seen a man dote on a woman in the ways he dotes on you. I mean, when you two are together, he can't help but touch you. If he's not rubbing you on the arms, he's picking at your clothes or touching your hair. And you don't get to see it, but I do. When you're not looking he stares at you in awe as if you're a rare find; a white rhino or a black diamond and he's the one that gets to have you. It's all kind of sickening now that I think about it," she says, surprising me by interjecting some levity into her lecture. "Why do I get the feeling that there's more to you and Grey than the run of the mill baby mama and baby daddy drama. Why you felt, you had to talk to him at that exact moment. You couldn't have waited to call him back at a more opportune time?" she asks, throwing questions out at me one after another. Then her lips quirk up into a wry smile. "Say when you were not making love to your boyfriend?"

"You make it sound so simple, but it's not that black and white. It all happened in a flash. At that moment, it felt like a do or die situation. It's complicated."

"So I've heard," she says, sardonically, "That's what you keep telling me. Deconstruct it for me then?"

"Alright. You know I'd been waiting for his call."

"How could I not, he had you jumping around like a human spring."

"Yes, don't remind me," I say rolling my eyes up to the ceiling. "Regardless of my adolescent behavior, the call was a very important one, thus my overreaction. I was afraid if I'd missed it, I wouldn't get another chance at engaging him."

"Okay, you've said a lot of words to say nothing. I'm still not enlightened," she says. "You know, if you opened up you wouldn't have to bear all this alone," she says touching my arm. "So. I hope you got the resolution, you'd been looking for."

"Not really. It's more like we came to an understanding..." I say trailing off when I see Kate trying to stifle a yawn. "You're tired, and so am I. Maybe we should call it a night."

"Yeah. I'm sorry, it's the alcohol, which is why I probably came down on you so hard. Sorry, you needed a friend, not a judge, jury, and executioner," she says, pouting.

"I needed the tough love. You helped me to put things into perspective, and it's a good preparation for my impending talk with Luke. I'm sure he'll have a few choice words for me."

"No doubt. You know what they say still waters run deep, and to that I say you'd better tread lightly or risk sinking."

"Thank you, for that sobering visual," I say, sarcastically. "By the way, what did you say to Luke? He made a comment referencing you and being right about something?" On top of the ruddiness from the alcohol, her face grows redder all but confirming her guilt.

"What did he say exactly?"

"He didn't elaborate that's why I'm coming to you."

Sheepishly, Kate stares at me stretching her arms outward and wringing her hands. "I might have said something to effect that good guys finish last," she says, pleading her case.

"Kate," I say, chastising her. "Why would you do that? With comments like that you aren't doing me any favors. So in the future could you please refrain from making such incendiary comments to him?"

"Yes, I promise, Scout's honor," she says, holding her hand up in a mock salute.

"You weren't even in the Girl Scouts." Rolling her eyes at me, she slaps me on the thigh. "Ouch!" I yelp.

"Come on, enough of this Debbie Downer talk," she says, hustling on her butt to get in closer to me. "Happy birthday Steele," she says, beaming as she throws her arms around my neck. This hug feels more genuine than the others and is more authentically Kate.

"Thank you," I say.

"Wait here. I have something for you," she says, releasing me. Struggling to get to her feet, Kate has to balance herself to stand upright.

"I guess the alcohol is finally kicking in," I say, giggling at her.

"Yeah, plus I'm sleepy and I stepped on something," she says, looking down at the floor.

"Your shoes," I say. Holding the gold flats up to her. She stumbles a little on her way to her purse, but she manages to retrieve the present and return without incidence.

"I hope you like it," she says handing the small beautifully wrapped present to me.

"I'm sure I will, but you didn't have to get me anything seeing that you lent me your dress and shoes for the night."

"Dress," she asks, "you borrowed dress and shoes from my closet?

"No, you left them for me in my room."

"Sorry, not me."

"You didn't," I say, realization dawning.

"From the look on your face, I guess you've worked out that they were from Luke."

"I'll have to call and thank him," I say, nonchalantly as I start ripping through the paper.

"Steele."

"What?"

"Do not call him. I repeat do not call him."

"Ah," I sigh, ignoring her. "Go set a Watchman, love it," I say, rubbing my fingers over the title. "Especially, now that Luke isn't talking to me. I won't have to depend on his copy.

"I'm glad you like it. I know you're into electronic books now, but I thought what the heck."

"Yeah, I like the convenience of electronic books, but sometimes you need to feel the pages of a good book between your fingers," I say, pulling her into a hug.

"So, what did Lulu send you?"

"She texted."

"Well, that's something I guess."

"Kate, be nice."

"Am I ever anything but nice to her," she says, her voice sugary sweet.

"Hey, I forgot. I'm a last minute replacement to interview Damien Stark for a class project, so I was hoping to borrow the interview questions you'd used for Christian."

"Sure. When is it?"

"In the morning."

"In the morning, and you're just asking for the questions?" She chuckles.

"I'm not stressed. It's just a class assignment."

"Gotcha. I'll email them to you. I'm sure you're aware, but he's a chunk of eye candy too," she says, poking a finger in my thigh.

"Thank you," I say, stretching and letting out an audible yawn. "Yes, I know so I better go to bed if I'm to match his beauty."

"Hey, Steele," Kate calls after me, and I spin to face her. "Why do you let him pull you into these impossible situations? He gets away unscathed, and you're left in ruins."

"Dunno, Kate," I say shrugging my shoulders before pivoting and continuing to my room.

"And don't call Luke," she adds and I hold a hand up to her.

Kate was right, telling me what I'd already know, I let him win. Even when I think I'd won, in the end he's the victor. Tonight, I'd stood up to him and now look at me I'm miserable, letting him ruin another special occasion for me while he's probably livin la vida loca.

Grumbling to myself, I give the pillow one final fluff and let it fall to the bed. Pulling the covers back, I crawl in between them and the mattress. After trying and failing, to fall asleep I finally gave up and changed the bed linens. The smell of him wafting around me was too consuming. There would be no way I would find sleep cloaked in his scent.

Straightening my back against the headboard, I reach over for my phone and without hesitation I go directly to his name. Since Kate didn't include texting in her directive, my thumbs type out, **thank u 4 the dress &amp; shoes it was 2** much then a thumb hovers over the send button until I finally get the courage to hit it. I hear the text as it's being delivered and get nervous when delivered pops up on the screen. Wiping away the tears that are now flowing, I wait. I wait and wait until I fall asleep, never getting a reply from him.

"Mr. Stark," I say, in the professional voice Kate had coached me on when I reach a booth holding a very nattily attired young man. He's far more handsome than Kate and I had imagined. To paraphrase Kate, is there a factory pushing out handsome young billionaires these days because he's nothing short of beautiful.

"Yes," he says in a voice to husky and sexy for this time of day and with ease he comes to his feet. "Anastasia I presume," he says extending his hand to me. "Please sit." Taking manners to the next level, he steps closer to me helping me into the empty booth.

"Thank you," I say, looking up at him. Enthralled by him.

"And please call me Damien," he says, and I have to stop myself from swooning. "I hope you don't mind I took the liberty of ordering for you." He says retaking his seat.

"No I don't mind, Damien," I say, jumping at the chance to use his name. "Thank you for agreeing to do this for us and accepting me as a replacement at the last minute. Ellen was very disappointed, she was so looking forward to meeting you."

"And you weren't?" he says, sardonically resting a hand over his chest. "You wound me, Anastasia." On anyone else the feigning innocent shtick is cheesy, but he moves his hand with such grace it almost looks like poetry in motion.

"Don't be. I'm equally as excited. You're one of the top young business men in the country after all." His stare is so intense I have to look away. It feels like he can see something about me I'm not privy too.

"You forgot one of the most eligible Bachelors too," he says, making a joke at his own expense. How refreshing. A young billionaire that has a sense of humor.

Still his confidence is unnerving and I can't look at him so I put my attention on my phone and start fumbling with the voice recorder. "I hope you don't mind if I record our interview, it will make it easier for me to put my report together later," I say, tilting my head up from the phone. Suddenly my voice is shaky and unsure and almost unrecognizable. Then our eyes meet his are dark and titillating making me more uncomfortable.

"I don't mind," he says.

"Okay, let's get started," I say, squirming in my seat and he smirks at me. Reminding me of another young, handsome billionaire I know." Bringing up the list of questions on my phone I read the first one. "Tell me, how did you amass such wealth at such a young age?" I say, in my manufactured journalist voice.

Keeping his eyes on me, Damien twists in his seat stretching out his long legs crossing them at the knee. Moving his coffee cup aside, he reaches across the table picking up my phone. It's a very mundane act that he's turned into something seductive, leaving me mesmerized. Swiping it off, he reaches back across the table returning it to the same spot in front of me.

"Tell you what. Why don't I have my secretary send you the information you'll need to complete your report. I'd much rather talk about you," he says, his lips quirking up in a half smile.

Quickly, I pick up my glass guzzling instead of sipping the water as I'd intended. Swallowing hard, I put the glass back down on the table and use the back of my hand to wipe a drop from my mouth. It was not very ladylike; I should've used the white napkin folded to perfection that staring at me mocking me, but he has me flustered. I knew he was handsome, but I hadn't prepared for the flirtiness.

"Why?" I squeal, and he smiles. This time it's less sinful and more wholesome, so I relax a bit. And as he starts to answer the waitress comes over with our order. She places the plates in front of us, but I have a suspicion the food won't get eaten.

"Thank you," Damien says to her, and from the blatant way she's flirting with him I'd suspect she was hoping for more in the way of acknowledgment. And he knows, his cocky smiles proves it. I feel sorry for the attractive young woman, she doesn't realize she'd become a punchline. Of course, she could be thinking the same thing about me. Dressed in my usual uniform, the only difference I went with Kate's ballet flats, I look far from his equal. "I don't know, there's something intriguing about you," he says when the waitress finally disappears. "I must confess I was hoping you'd be the young woman interviewing me when I saw you walking in." Holding my gaze, he hands me his napkin. "You missed something," he says, tapping the side of his mouth with his finger. His lips curling up into his familiar smirk, he keeps his eyes focused on me as I dab at the spot with the napkin.

"All good," I say. My confidence has returned, so my voice is stronger. "You'd better be careful your lips could get caught in that position."

"Anastasia, you're as charming as I'd thought," he says, smiling. "I'm being forward, but please rest assured I'm not coming on to you," he says.

"I didn't think so," I say, not being completely honest. Just like that my attitude changes and now I'm questioning why not. What's wrong with me? I hate these pregnancy hormones; they make me more erratic than I normally am.

"You're lying, there are body cues giving you away," he says and I try to hide my embarrassment, "conversely, you don't have to look so offended either. I find you very attractive, but I'm in love and if my intuition is correct and it usually is, so are you. So that begs the question, why are you so sad?"

"Ironically, I think I'd preferred you coming on to me than psychoanalyzing me," I say, my eyes downcast as I play with my food.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Sometimes I can be too forward. But since I've found my true love, I've made it my secret mission to help others. Especially young women, with dark hair and rueful blue eyes," he says playfully, and it coaxes a smile out of me. "There it is. That's the smile I want to put back on your face. Permanently"

"Okay, Cupid I will confess I am in love but I'm having a bit of a problem with the guy right now."

"Care to share the details?" he asks, tilting his head to the side.

"No. As nice as you are, I don't know you."

"Point well taken," he says, as he uncrosses his legs and shifts to face me head on. Leaning across the table, he simply says to me, "Run to him." Then he settles back into his booth.

"What if I've done something so unforgivable and he doesn't want to see me?"

"The more reason to do as I say. As strong an emotion it is, love can be fleeting, and it is why you have to grasp it and hang on to it. In the end, it doesn't matter who's right or wrong as long as you're together, the scorecard is only gets tallied when you're apart. "

"How profound, you're really taking this cupid thing seriously."

"Well, when I take on a project I go at it hard."

"You may not be flirting, but you're not shying away from the innuendos."

"I can't help myself." He winks. "It comes out when I'm around a beautiful young woman."

"Well, as much as, I'm enjoying this little talk Damien I should get going. I have a class I need to prepare for."

"You're not going to eat?" he says inspecting my plate.

"No, I'll grab something later.

"If you say so," he says, assessing me. "Tell me, Anastasia, are you graduating this year?"

"Yes."

"Then you should apply for an internship at one of my companies. I can assure you, you'd get it."

"I'm flattered, but I'll have to say no. I'm going to Harvard in the fall."

"Good, then we could converse there. I'd be very interested to see how things worked out for you. I'm slated to give a series of lectures in the fall so the timing would put us there at the same time."

"Really? I don't recall seeing your name on the syllabus."

"I don't think they've advertised it; they're finalizing the roster. If I had to guess, I'd say Grey is the holdup. They ask him every year, and he turns them down," he says, staring at me suspiciously. "Do you know Christian Grey?

"No. No more than what I've read about him or studied in class."

"Sorry, in your eyes I thought I saw familiarity when I mentioned his name."

"Do you? You talk about him with familiarity," I say trying to get the spotlight off me.

"Well, we were at Harvard together, before he dropped out. I know him better than most. But I don't think anyone really knows Christian Grey, in any of the ways that it matters."

Anxious, to fill Luke in on my first official Dr.'s visit, I rush to get inside the car to call him. Getting comfortable, I pull the phone from my purse before tossing the purse to the passenger seat. And it is only when I'm cradling it that it hits me, he's not talking to me. Talking to him had become so natural, I'd let the fact we were embroiled in a dispute slip my mind. Staring at the phone, the happy go lucky feelings subside. In reality, it's been less 24 hours since our fight, but it might as well have been a lifetime, I feel so utterly devastated. The feelings are different with this parting than the ones that overtook me when Christian had left me. The ache was fast and intense broadsiding me, this time around its a slow burn in the depth of my being. The pain only increasing with every tick of the clock; maybe it's because I'd experienced it live. Luke had shown the courage of his conviction and stayed around to confront me instead of acting cowardly like Christian and running.

Following Damien's advice, I decide to go after him. Grab on and never let go. Pressing the phone to my chest, I seek divine intervention. I'd need all the help I could get, my English Lit background is failing me. Please forgive me and please take me back, sound weak and overused. And wreak of desperation. But if I thought they would move him, it wouldn't be beneath me to beg. Peeling the phone back, I stop thinking about it and just go for it.

"Hi," I say, my voice is shaky and tentative."

"Ana," Luke says, forgoing any formal greeting. Not a good sign, but I brush it off proceeding like all is well.

"I thought you'd want to hear about my Dr.'s appointment. Everything is going swell-" Luke finally manages to break in cutting me off before I could rush everything out. I'd heard him calling my name, but I wasn't ready to concede the floor to him.

"Ana, enough, "he bellows. He saw through my tactic. "If things were normal between us I'd be ecstatic that you'd thought to share this news with me. But we're not okay. We're far from okay actually, and I'm not ready to talk you. I answered your call out of courtesy not to hold you in a conversation," he confesses, and the water starts trickling down my cheeks as I quietly sob at his admission. He doesn't want to talk to me.

"What about the text. You never answered my text," I say, sounding defensive and I close my eyes immediately regretting my tone. This call wasn't meant to incite him; it was to woo him.

"Give me a break Ana. You texted me last night, I think the phrase I need some time conjures up more than a couple of hours," he says, mockingly

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound so accusatory. I just feel so lost without you. And so alone," I say whimpering.

"You're not alone. You know that. You have Kate and Lulu. I just can't be there for you right now. You have to back off and give me the space. You owe me that."

"Don't you miss me?" I say

"I'm not having this conversation, Ana," he says softly. "You've taken everything away from me, we've done it your way. Let's try it my way for a change."

"Luke, you have to forgive me. Please," I say, sobbing resorting to desperation.

"Don't beg. You'll never have to beg me. It's not what I want from you. You opened me wide, exposing my hypocrisy. I'd known you had doubts, but I loved you so much, I'd convinced myself to trust in your words. Now is the time of reckoning and I'm left to deal with the fallout from the choices I made. Just like you're left to deal with the consequences of your actions so use the time wisely. I plan to." He pauses. "I don't you want you groveling, I want you steadfast in your belief.

"Goodbye Ana," he says and the phone falls from my hand as my body leans forward my head collapsing on the steering wheel.

CPOV

"Bro."

"Eliot, what the fuck? Why are you calling me so early? I'm not in Seattle you know."

"Yes, I know because I'm in your ice castle and you're not."

"I really have to get on my staff about allowing people into Escala when I'm not there," I say groggily as I move my forearm over my eyes blocking the morning light.

"If by people you mean, moi, you can forget it your staff likes me more than they like your grumpy ass. By the way, why are you still in bed, it should be about 10 am over there. You should be up. Instead, you sound like shit."

"Since you've you made that keen observation over the phone, can we hang up now so I can go back to what I was doing," I say, groaning slurring my words slightly. And grabbing a pillow I smother my face. Every muscle in my body aches from the torturous workout and my head hurts from all the alcohol I consumed; the good, bad and the ugly. Disgusted with myself, I toss the pillow to the floor. Tilting my body upward, I see that I'm still dressed in yesterday's clothes and I smell like shit. Booze and sweat. Then it hits me that I'd only been asleep for about a couple of hours. So, needless to say, I'm not in the proper frame of mind to deal with my brother's bullshit.

"Sorry Dorothy, not gonna happen. So put your big girl panties on and get your pretty face out of bed. We're having this conversation. And oh yeah, while you pull your shit together, I'm going to treat myself to the plate Gail has put out for me," he says, gloating just to annoy me further.

I quickly come to the sad conclusion that he's not going away quietly so I give up. "Ok give me a second let me take a piss," I say intentionally, as to ruin his appetite. As crude as he can be, Elliot hates bathroom humor around food.

"Fuckwad, you did that on purpose," he shouts and I can't stifle my chuckle despite how much it makes my head hurt. While in the bathroom, I take care of some other needs. I brush my teeth and splash water on my face. The alcohol had taken a toll on my mouth and the lack of sleep on my appearance. If they could see me now, they wouldn't be swooning.

Picking up the phone, I start walking towards the sitting area. "Okay, Elliot what are you groaning on about," I say running my hand through hair that is too messy even for me. Perusing, the menu for a second I decide against food I couldn't eat it if I tried. Tossing it on the counter, I make my way to a sofa calling my name.

"Since you asked so nicely, I'm following up on Ana. When's the last time you've spoken to her?" he says and he has to slide in a zinger, "and don't include when you went to Boston upsetting her."

Sighing, I try to tamp down my anger. "And since you're still fucking her roommate, I'm sure you already know the answer," I snarl. "Remind again why you're still with her?" Another reason to add to the list of reasons I regret my encounter with Anastasia. My brother's involvement with her roommate, it's a little too kissing cousins for me.

"Let's stick to the topic, you and Ana. I came here to confront you face to face, but since you're across the globe, I'll have to settle with over the phone."

"No, you don't. You could wait for me to come back home, better yet you could stay out of my fucking business."

"Yeah, you would like that, but someone has to keep you honest. I'm tired of sitting on the sidelines and watching you punk out."

"What the fuck?"

"You heard me. Punk. That's what I call men who can make a baby, but won't step up to take responsibility for one."

"You have no fucking idea what's going between Anastasia and me. Don't pass your pseudo moral judgment on me when you don't know shit about the situation. You can't just go by what your fuckmate tells you in bed or her roommate with her lies.

"You're right I don't know the details, but right now none of it matters. There's a baby involved. I can't point fingers at you when my house is made out of glass, but a baby has moved the discussion beyond that of boys will be boys. You need to step up and do the right thing. And normally for you doing the right thing is status quo, but for some reason when it comes to Ana all your reasoning goes out the door. Mom and Dad raised you to be a better man," he says, and I run my hand through my hair in exasperation. "Hey dude, I get it you don't want to be a father. That's why they make condoms and if I recall how to use them was covered in 9th-grade sex-ed," he says, sarcastically.

"She lied to me El," I blurt out, "about her age, birth control all of it." His silence is deafening, and I'm not sure he's still there. "Elliot are you still there?"

"Yeah I'm here," he says, flatly.

"I bet she doesn't sound so innocent now, more like a manipulative bitch, huh?" I bark.

"Don't you talk about Ana like that? You maybe my little brother, but if you were here, I would punch your lights out. If she were so manipulative, she wouldn't have spent every day crying her eyes out over you asshole. I witness her devastation first hand, so don't you try disparaging her."

"Well, she's not crying anymore," I say, and I come to my feet walking to the tall windows.

"What's that supposed to mean."

"She has a boyfriend. She's moved on."

"Good for her," he says, laughing heartedly. "I'd be damned I never thought she'd rebound so quickly. How does it feel, to know that she doesn't live and breathe for you after all?"

"This can't be why you called me," I seethe as I stare out the window. I'm laser focused on what's outside, what's beyond the tall buildings, what's beyond the water. What would I see if I saw inside her window? "So get on with it," I spit out.

"You do know that her having a boyfriend doesn't get you off the hook?"

"You know what Elliot, get to your fucking point or get off the fucking phone and get out of my fucking home."

"Whoa, I guess I touched a hot button," he says, snickering. "Listen, Christian, you need to man up because I'm not going to let this baby grow up without an uncle. And I can bet you Mom and Dad won't let him or her grow up without grandparents. And don't let me get started on Mia. So the way I see it, bro, you'd be the odd man out in your own child's life," he says, and I close my eyes letting my head roll backward.

The madness from yesterday has followed me into today. When I did I lose control of my contained life? After Anastasia and now Elliot, I feel cornered. And like a wild animal in a similar position, my first reaction is to claw my way out, but I can't I'm stuck in the past. When I close my eyes for too long I'm transported back there; all five senses are engaged. The smell, sights, and sounds are so vivid I can almost reach out and touch them. I wonder if she'd still feel the same if I touched her? How did I get stuck in this place and how do I get back?

"What do you want from me, Elliot?" I ask when I bring my head forward.

"Either you tell mom and dad or I will. Your denial has gone on long enough and from what Kate has told me it's taking a toll on Ana. There was time this girl walked on water in your eyes, you wanted nothing more than to look after her, now you're treating her like the antichrist. But you can't put all the blame on her shoulders, the bulk of it rests squarely on yours. Hey, you were the more experienced of the two. And one thing I know about you Christian, nothing happens in your world unless you want it to. That's what eating at you, and instead of dealing with your issues, you're taking it out on her. Your attitude towards her might have changed, but the rest of us still loves Ana."

"I don't know Elliot, it sounds like you're speaking for yourself, not the rest of the family. Since you're older than me you'll be happy to know that she had a birthday yesterday…she's 18," I say, "So she's no longer jailbait."

"L'il Bro, you're so fucking clueless," he says mockingly. "All jokes aside. You can try to deflect, but you need to come clean to mom and dad. And while you're at it treat the mother of your child with a little more respect.


	27. Chapter 27: The Snake

Chapter 27 : The Snake

**Disclaimer**: FSOG belongs to EL James

**A/N:** Thank you for reading, reviewing, and following my story- Please Enjoy

As soon as, the intro comes over the car radio, I almost lose it, and if I weren't driving, I would throw my hands in the air in exasperation. "For heaven sake, can a girl get a little gangster rap?" I screech in frustration pretending to bang my head on the steering wheel and in the process I just so happen to glance out of my window. The quick glimpse reveals that some motorists are gawking at me. I didn't realize I was that animated as to catch the attention of other drivers, and surprisingly I'm not bothered by it; I'm too fixated on the song.

Sappy love songs are wreaking havoc on my tear ducts, so I needed something more hard hitting; it's why I'd tuned into the urban station in the first place. People on campus boasted that I'd get a constant stream of hip-hop and rap music. Instead, the first artist that comes on is the late Whitney Houston, who was not known for spitting out hard-hitting rhymes. Nothing against her or her song, I'm a big fan and on any other day I'd be content listening to it. But today I'm too emotionally spent. My heartstrings are worn out. Sure I could switch the station, but then I'd have to stop griping, so I soldier on.

I've been a walking oxymoron since Luke broke up with me. We're on day two of the saga with no progress. For his part, Luke has remained steadfast in his conviction and has not reached out to me. Meanwhile, I'm struggling to keep my end of the bargain; a constant war of wills, me against me. Part of me wanting to do the right thing and the other half wanting to go full on rogue. The internal battle between the two factions is epic. Wiping my face, I imagined us in a happier time, the song helping to guide my footsteps down memory's lane. And I guess it's because I'm already forlorn that I'm finding it to be so poignant today. The truth be told, normally I can't discern if it's a song for breaking up or making up. But not right now. There's no problem making the distinction.

The driveway for the Lecture Hall is in my view, and I'm relieved, my tears are starting to blur my vision. So I needed to get off the road before I'd wreck my car. Some would argue that it was already a heap, but that's not the point, my uncontrollable sobbing and shuddering shoulders are. Accelerating, I come up on College Lane at a higher rate of speed than I'd intended, and if I were prudent, I'd abort the turn. At this stage in my life, there are a lot of adjectives that can be used to describe me, but that isn't one of them. Throwing common sense to the wind, swerving I turn in causing the tires to squeal and the Beetle to lean slightly.

Undaunted, I maintain control and continue driving to a parking space that is conveniently located one row over. Zooming into the spot I switch the engine off and melt into the seat just as Whitney hits the money note. The longer the song goes, the harder the tears stream down my face and the uglier the cry. I miss him so much, and it scares me that he may never give me the opportunity to undo the wrong I've done. Reflecting on my mistakes, I close my eyes getting lost in the song; my ears trained only on _I will always love you_. The rest of the lyrics an after thought.

Then two things happen almost at once. My phone beeps, forcing me to open my eyes and when I do I see Jose. He is standing in front of the Beetle, staring at me pitifully. Averting my gaze from him, I reach across the seat picking up the phone, and when I look forward again, he's gone. Shaking off the Jose sighting, I answer the call without checking the ID. It didn't matter, I didn't hear the crashing waves, so I knew who it wasn't. Therefore, who it was held no relevance for me.

"Hel-lo," I say, hiccuping. Embarrassed, I mumble an apology.

"Anastasia?" he asks. Skeptical that it is me.

I spoke to soon; it mattered, and right now I'm chastising my traitorous body for failing me this time around. There was no twitching, prickling, or any other alarm bells alerting me to his call. Tilting my head back on the headrest, I groan internally. First a silly love song now this. Maybe I should make apologizing to the universe my priority.

"Yes," I squeak, caught off guard that he's on the other end. At the same time, I wrestle with squashing my hiccups and choking back sobs so my voice can sound steadier.

"Are you crying?" He asks and if I'd not been at the receiving end of his constant ridicule I'd believe his concern was sincere.

"No, Christian," I say flatly, at the same time feverishly wiping the tears from my cheeks. Silently I pray that my voice holds up. He'd view my crying as a sign of weakness, and since I've carved out a place of strength for myself with him, I didn't want to go backward.

"If you say so, but I don't believe you," he says.

"What do you want Christian?" I ask, tersely. Then I sit up straighter to better pull off the I'm doing fine and the world is peachy masquerade. Reaching forward, I turn off the radio just as L'il Wayne comes on. Great.

Settling back in the seat, I listen to Christian breathing, and in my mind's eyes, I can see him running his hand through his hair in exasperation. Since our fleeting relationship was barely a blip on the radar and mainly spent in the horizontal position, I came out of it with very few happy memories. But there is one that will remain etched in my cerebral cortex, Christian always running his hand through his hair. Either in frustration or after sex and at the time I'd thought it was sexy regardless the circumstance.

"Are you there?"

"Yes, Christian. I was waiting for you."

"In light of our understanding the other night-" he says before abruptly cutting himself off to wish me happy belated birthday. The random act of kindness jerks me out of my lovesick stupor catapulting me into the land of what the ...

Mystified by his sudden change in attitude, paranoia seeps in making me seriously question if I'm being Punk'd. Because this can't be the same Christian Grey that no more than two nights ago was calling me a whore at every third word.

"Thaaank you," I say, hesitantly waiting for the other shoe to drop because I'm not entirely sold on this new kinder gentler Christian.

"Haha," he laughs, and it's a genuine laugh, unlike his usual smirking. "You can relax Anastasia, I don't have an agenda; that was heartfelt. And yes I do have a heart. Despite what you may believe I am not Satan," he says, and I hear that hint of vulnerability in his voice that endears you to him, in spite of his bombastic behavior.

Okay, this is starting to get scary, not only is he not bellicose, he's buoyant. And dear, I say sweet. I'm afraid of jinxing it because I know better than anyone how quickly he can become contentious and take the conversation in a more volatile direction at a moment's notice.

"Christian, I'd never believed you were Satan," I say, "to me you'd always be Prince Charming." I sound wistful and there's an awkward pause.

"Oh yes," he sighs, "Regrettably, I can't claim that one either," he says. "Back to why I called." The edge has returned to his voice as he eagerly pivots away from the topic.

But the seque has me worried, **why I called** has never bode well for me. Picking at the loose threads on my worn steering wheel cover, I wait to hear which Christian Grey is going to surface. I'm not ready for the developing truce between us to end just yet. When he's like this, I'm reminded why I fell so fast and so hard.

"I'm going to assume that outside of the handful of people that already know that I am the father, you have not told anyone," he says, and I interject before he can finish.

"You would be right, I honored the NDA,"

"Good, then I ask that you continue to keep my identity a secret," he says matter of factly.

"I knew it," I blurt out. To my chagrin, the asshole showed up.

"Anastasia, please let me finish," he says, trying to scold me.

"Sorry," I say, but my voice is anything but contrite. "'l'll give you credit, at least you had the decency to **ask** this time," I mumble, unable to let it go.

"Are you finished?" he asks, and by his tone I can tell he's peeved.

"Yes."

"As I was about to say before I was so rudely interrupted, I haven't disclosed your pregnancy to my parents or Mia. So I didn't want it getting out before I had a chance to talk to them."

"I'm stunned, you're going to tell your parents."

"You didn't leave me much choice, seeing that you're planning to take me to court and all."

"Christian. That's not fair. You know the whole court thing was reactionary. I was only responding to your bullying."

"We can debate which came first ,the chicken or the egg, at this point it doesn't matter. I need an answer."

"I will agree. How long?"

"I haven't decided. Just know it's not going to be right away, but soon," he says and he takes an elongated pause. "In the meantime, I want to keep the information contained in the small circle of people who already know; me, you, Kate, and Elliot. My head of Security, doesn't even know so that should give you an idea of how close to the vest I'm keeping this."

"You haven't told Mr. Taylor?"

"No Anastasia and please don't ask me why."

"Okay," I say, and my voice is small. For reasons unbeknownst to me the gruff response has hurt my feelings.

"So what do you say?"

"I've already agreed. But you'll need to add my step dad to the list. I plan on telling him. But Ray won't be a problem. He's inherently tight lipped."

"Fair enough. What about your boyfriend?" he asks, calmly. A little too calmly for me. It's like the calm before the storm.

"To reiterate I'd honored the NDA and even the spirit of that bogus contract so I have not shared anything about you with him. But I was hoping to change that and be honest with him. You can understand that, can't you Christian?" I say, using his primary attack against me as my justification. Cocking my head to the side, I wait for his response. It always feels good using his ridiculous words against him.

"Touche, Anastasia," he says, and I think I hear him chuckling. "I can appreciate you wanting to be transparent, but I don't want the fucker knowing anything about me. However, please know I applaud you for developing a conscience. If you'd had one that night, we wouldn't be here," he says in retaliation.

"The same case could be made for you using a condom and controlling your libido," I quip, and then I pull back. "You know what Christian thus far this call has been civilized, so I'm not going to let you drag us into a fight."

"Wise decision," he says, sarcastically but true to my word I don't take the bait. " I'm going to hold you to the non-disclosure agreement, it's completely separate from the contract you'd signed-" At that I do enter the fray, breaking in because he's treading too close to injecting that lawless contract back into the discussion.

"A contract that we'd both agreed was as a sham," I say adamantly.

"Sham. Was your word not mine. I merely agreed to void it. Either way you can relax. To paraphrase, I'm not looking for a fight. I'd only brought it up for clarification sake and to make a point. I don't want to be revealed as the father, and as I mentioned earlier, we needed to keep it contained." Sighing I kick the pedals, when what I should do is kick myself. Nothing has changed but the delivery; I'd let him suckered me again.

"If that's what you want Christian, I'm okay with it, but keeping this information from my boyfriend is causing friction in our relationship. I realize it is not important to you, but it's important to me."

"What happened to fighting for this baby? Putting him or her above a man. Here's your chance to prove it. I'm willing to give you what you want," he says. Great, he's turned the table, and now he's throwing my words back at me.

"When do you ever give me what I want?"

"Now."

"Okay Christian you win, my curiosity has gotten the better of me. What is it that you're giving me?"

"I can't believe I'm about to say this," he says, pausing. "Custody."

"Custody." I gasp.

"Custody," he repeats

"Oh my God," I say squealing, my hand flying to my mouth. "Really, Christian." I whimper.

"Yes, Anastasia. Really. I won't sue for custody, but I do have some stipulations."

"Anything," I say and immediately he launches into a laundry list of demands.

• My identity as father stays a secret, revealed only to those people we've already discussed.

· I will not participate in the day to day life of this child. But I do reserve the right to change my mind at a later date.

· I will make a financial contribution, child support if you will.

• Any man in your life will only find out my identity after marriage and even then after 5 years.

• Men in your life will undergo a thorough background check.

• My parents will have a major role in the baby's life," he says, finally reaching the end of his list.

"You can call them stipulations, but I call them demands. Why do I feel like I'm being railroaded again? This is sounding an awful lot like, a watered-down version of that disgusting contract. Why can't we handle this like normal people?"

"I'm not normal people Anastasia," he says, and I can almost see him making air quotes around the words normal people. "I'm a multi-Billionaire and I have people gunning for me so I have to protect my brand."

"Your brand," I say, and I can't stifle a chuckle. "Your brand can't withstand fatherhood?" I say, smirking, "then you need to change your brand."

"Trust me, Anastasia, this is best. We'd both be getting what we wanted. You custody and I'd be comforted in knowing that my parents were a constant presence in this baby's life. Why are you looking for the bad?"

"I'm not looking for trouble, I'm just pointing out the obvious. Look, Christian I'd still need to see the fine print because with you the devil is definitely in the details."

"There are no details, I only just made the decision. When I return from my business trip, I'll summon my attorneys to iron out some. And if you want, I could provide an attorney for you. I wouldn't want you to feel like you're being taken advantage of."

"Since when?" I say acerbically. "Thank you, but I'll get my own lawyer."

"You know Anastasia, I'd expected you'd sustain your enthusiasm? I did a complete role reversal for God sake and you're still not happy."

"Not on the one issue that is most important," I lament. "But yes Christian I'm happy. Very happy."

"I'm sorry Anastasia this all I can give. I've already conceded too much to you, the other is a bridge too far."

"You lulled me into believing you'd undergone a complete transformation, but you're still a snake," I say, in a strangled voice. My tender emotions are getting the better of me and I no longer care if he knows.

"A snake may shed its skin but will never change its nature."

"That's a sad commentary but even sadder it's not a denial," I say and my voice cracks.

"I never intended to make you upset," he says.

"Yet you have an uncanny knack for doing just that," I say derisively, but in the end I agree to his stipulations.

"Wow, with the apathy in your voice one would think you'd just agreed to a beheading."

"What did you'd expect Christian? Let's call it what it is. Blackmail. You thought I'd celebrate you buying my silence using my child as the payment. You're selfish and short sighted. What about your child? What happens when he asks mommy, who's my daddy?"

"Anastasia we'll cross that bridge when we get there. I thought you said, you'd understand if I walked away."

"Yes I did, but it didn't mean that I had to like it. Unlike you it was never my desire to erase you from your child's life."

"I'm not walking a way completely, I'll have some involvement just not in a traditional way."

"You have an answer for everything. But you're right about one thing, that's in the future. What do I have to do now?" I say, in resignation. I'm done. For all intents and purposes, I'll be raising this baby on my own and that is fine with me as long as I get to keep my baby.

"Easy, stay quiet."

"Okay, but I'm not going have him undergo a background check. And if he can't know your identity, you can't know his."

"Fair enough, but all bets are off once the baby is born. Then he will undergo a thorough and rigorous background check. That's if he's still around. And if you fight me on it, then I will sue you," he says and I laugh.

"You can't help yourself. You must wake up threatening people?"

"How did you know?" he says sarcastically."

"And don't think I missed that snide comment either."

"The thought never entered my mind."

"You're getting off on this, aren't you? It's nothing more than a contract negotiation for you."

"If it were, I'd say you were handing me my balls, because, on all the point that mattered, I've conceded them to you," he says.

"When you put it like that, I guess you're right. I am getting my baby, so for that thank you wholeheartedly," I say.

"You're welcome Anastasia. Please don't make me regret it.

"You couldn't just stop at **you're welcome**?"

"What would be the fun in that?"

"I could answer, but it would prolong our conversation, and I need to get going. My class has started. Thank you, I may have sounded ungrateful, but this is the best news I've had in a long time. And if I'm honest, it's not what I'd expected when I first heard your voice."

"It's not what I'd planned when I called, but if it's making you smile, it's worth it. Your eyes sparkle when you do," he says making me uncomfortable. "Despite your best efforts I heard you crying."

"Bye, Christian," I say, ending the call before he pulls me into his vortex.

Holding the phone against my chest, I close my eyes and shake my head as I try to decipher the conversation. It was unexpected, but a pleasant surprise. Now I can unequivocally answer, it was worth it. Because I don't think Christian gets here without the call. Hopefully, my relationship with Luke won't be collateral damage.

"Hi Ana," Kate calls out before I can even get in the apartment all the way. Before, responding, I complete the perfunctory tasks I typically do when I first enter.

"Hi, Katherine. You sound chipper," I say to her, as I hug myself running my hands feverishly up and down my arms. "Burr, it was a cold one today."

"The way I see it we were due, don't you think? It's been pretty mild winter."

"Global Warming." I blurt out, as I rush towards her. Glancing down at the sofa, I grab the papers and push Kate's feet back some so I can sit. "But I'm not complaining. After spending time in Boston's brutal weather, the mild temperature has been nice." Before handing them over, I peruse the sheets quickly. "What's the topic?" I ask, holding the pages up when she starts reaching for them.

"Global warming, ironically," she says, as she stands on her knees."Give them to me. They're not ready for your probing eyes. All you'll want to do is ameliorate the pages."

Smirking, I hold the papers up higher and further out of her reach, "a-me-lio-rate," I say, enunciating every syllable.

"Yes," she yelps. Then swiping once, she snatches the papers out of my hands before sinking back down onto the sofa. "All of us aren't born geniuses, the rest of us mere mortals have to work at it," she says rolling the sheets up. "And for your information, ameliorate was the word of the day. It means-."

"I know what it means," I say, interrupting her. "Why are you doing the word of the day? Your vocabulary is already pretty kick ass, so what's up?"

"You can always see right through me," she says leaning forward smacking me with the roll, before falling back on the armrest. "If you must know, I'm following this Geek online, and he likes to tweet the word of the day."

"A Geek," I say, scrunching my face up at her. "That's not how you roll, you go for the ballers and shot callers." Rolling her eyes at me, Kate puts the report away.

"I'm getting your left-overs. You're getting the ballers."

"Haha, you're so funny."

"By the way, you do realize that your short time on the mean streets of Seattle doesn't earn you to street cred," she says, teasingly and I stick my tongue out at her. "Hip hop lingo coming out of your pasty mouth trips me out." She laughs. "And yes, he's a Geek but he's the hottest one I know."

"So, what about Elliot?"

"What about Elliot? We're where we always knew we'd end up…A good lay."

"And you're okay with that? I thought Elliot was the one."

"The one for right now," she says, flippantly. But I know Kate. She's putting up a wall to protect herself. She really liked Elliot.

"That hurts my heart, I thought you two were good together."

"Don't worry about me. You know me I don't let the grass grow under my feet."

"At the risk of sounding like an incurable romantic, I was hoping one of us would get our happily ever after with a Grey man."

"It looks like you will," she says nodding her head my stomach.

"Funny, surely you jest," I say pushing off on the couch. "Speaking of the human growing inside of me I need to get something to eat. I only had granola and some grapes all day. And before you say anything I know I need to eat better."

"Yes, because you're eating for two," she yells after me. She couldn't help herself. I could die a happy woman if I never heard that phrase again.

"Here," I say to Kate, switching out her glass of wine for a drink of water. Then I scramble back to the kitchen before she can protest. Once things have settled down in my life, I'm going to confront Kate more forcibly about her developing drinking problem.

When I come back with my sandwich, Kate, and I get caught up on our day. I'd learned more about her hunky Geek. After her description of him, it starts to make more sense, granted it's not going to last. But I'm not going to rain on her parade. Filling her in on my day, I focus on my time spent at the Boys and Girls Club and the warm welcome the kids gave me. Then I make the fatal mistake of telling her about the weird encounter with Jose. It fires her up, reigniting her anger at me for not pressing charges against him. Then she recites stats supporting claims that sexual assaults on College Campuses are reaching epidemic proportion; at the same time, reminding me of my missed opportunity to be part of the solution and not the problem. Harsh words, but she has a point I didn't stand up. Reminiscent of what Luke said to me. Stand for something or fall for nothing.

"By the way I talked to Christian this morning, " I say. This is guaranteed to get her off her soapbox. She'll want to hear the details. I've had enough of the tongue lashing, so I'm ready to move on.

"And you're just telling me," she says, kicking me with her feet. "Soooo."

"Not much to tell really," I say, playing down the call. I'm not ready to get into the specifics with her. "He was following up on our last call. Our conversations have been so combative lately; it felt strange, but nice having a friendly one with him for a change. Sure we got our jabs in, but nothing compared to the ditties we're used to lobbing at each other."

"Well, that's a good sign, huh."

"I guess," I say, fiddling with some papers at her feet. "What?" I ask when I see her staring at me with this questioning look on her face.

"You look okay."

"I am," I say, smiling. "What now?" I shout.

"Nothing. You're fine. It's weird. I'm not used to you like this," she says waving her hand at me. "After an encounter with Christian Grey, you're usually distraught. "

"I've changed. Unbeknownst to him, Luke has given me the confidence I need to stand up for myself. Every time Christian has sought to destroy me, he's been there to build me back up."

"Yes, Mr. Perfect."

"Well, he isn't perfect but he certainly is perfection."

"Okay, Christian or Luke?"

"What?"

"Christian or Luke?" she repeats.

"Were you listening? What do you think?"

"I heard you. All things being equal and you had one choice who would you choose?"

"Stop with the hypotheticals. And let's be clear all things are not equal. For one, to categorize what transpired between Christian and me as a relationship is an insult to all other relationships. Let's call it what it was, a hookup. I was just the last to read the memo."

"Are you really okay with that harsh assessment?"

"I'm not proud of it and it's not how I will retell it if asked by my child. But it is what is and I've moved on. Aside from this baby, Luke is at the center of my world. Now I just have to find a way to pull him back into it."

"Speaking of that, anything?"

"Nope."

"Well you better get cracking girlie," Kate says, leaning forward smacking me on my arm. "Valentine's day is right around the corner.

"Wait a minute, you told me to give him space."

"What do I know?" She shrugs. "Look at my track record, do you really wanna listen to me?"

"Darn it!" I say, pounding my fist on the couch ignoring Kate's idiotic statement.

"What?"

"I'd forgot to ask Christian about Harvard. Rumor has it, he might be lecturing there in the fall so I wanted to confirm. I was looking forward to escaping him, not taking him with me."

"Sorry to tell you, that horse has left the barn," she says, stretching her leg out tapping my belly with her feet.

"On that note," I say moving her feet aside and coming to mine. "I'll let you get back to work. You've motivated me; I'm going to my room to do some work on my essay." When I get to the door, I put my hand on the knob and call out to Kate before opening it. "Hey, there's a baby clothing store I want you to go to with me."

"Sure. Let me know when," she says.

Kate bursts into my bedroom, causing my head to pop up and I become alarmed when I see the panic written all over her face.

"Brace yourself," she screeches, scaring the bejesus out of me. Her hands are flailing like crazy, and I'm trying to focus, but I can't. With my legs curled underneath me, I sit forward on the bed nervously waiting to hear what disaster has befallen us.

"What!"

"Your universe is about to collapse…collide," she rambles, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration.

"Kate, calm down. Use those fancy words of the day," I say, sarcastically and I don't know if I'm quick witted to calm her down or me.

"Grace invited us to dinner- I was on the phone with Elliot when she extended the invitation- She made it a point to say she wanted to see you-I'd suspect you'd be the guest of honor and I'd just be wallpaper," she says panting, fitting everything in under one breath. Because I'd prepared for Armageddon, this revelation pales in comparison.

"Okay, I'll follow up with Christian to see what gives." Pausing, she slowly takes a seat on the edge of the bed and eyes me speculatively.

"Excuse me. Are you okay?" And leaning forward she presses the back of her hand against my forehead. "When do you ever just follow up with Christian?" She asks, letting her hand fall away from my face.

"Since I beat him at his own game."

"Well, go ahead Miss Thang," she says, coming back to her feet.

"I'm just kidding. After our call today, I feel good about where we left things. We're in a better place, so this is a perfect time for me to test the theory," I say. Kate is wearing a silly smirk on her face that has me dumbfounded. What now?"

"Nothing. My work here is done. I'm going to my room so you call can Christian Grey" she says, singing his name as she skips to the door.

"I'm texting," I yell, and I can hear her giggling like a schoolgirl behind the closed door.

**UR, mom invited me 2 dinner Want 2 chk W/U 1st**, I type out and hit send. Then I sit back and wait. And I don't have to wait long, unlike Luke he responds right away.

**Did she call you?**

**No when K on phone w/E**

**Okay give me a minute to follow up with Elliot.**

As I stare at his message, the whole thing feels surreal that we're texting back and forth. We never could have imagined this 48 hours ago, yet it feels so natural. Like we've been doing it forever, instead of waging nuclear war against each other. **Okay we're good. Just know I haven't spoken to my family**, comes across my screen jerking me from my thoughts.

**K. I won't say anything**

**Question: will they be able to tell,** appears and it makes me smile.

**Not less I remove shoes**

**Please explain**

**Lately feet look like melons**

**Lol**

**I would pay good money to see that**, pops up immediately and laughing I type out my response. Yes this is definitely better than verbal sparring.

**U don't hav 2 I wil let U in 4 free btw will be at a place near you**

**Good, I'll be there**

**CPOV**

**Lol**. When the fuck did I start using the acronym? And liking it. I stare at the screen until I feel the bed dip reminding me that I'm not alone. Annoyed, I rest the iPhone on my thigh face down.

"Come back to bed," Sam murmurs, behind me.

"I'm in bed," I say, dryly without turning to face her.

"You know what I mean," she says. Her voice is grating on me, and I'm close to reverting to my Harvard days and send her on her way, but another glance at the text changes my attitude. Reminding me why she's here in the first place. A distraction. I'd needed to throw her over the sofa and fuck her to get the visual out of my head Anastasia had painted.

Pulling my right leg from underneath me, I stand up and lean down picking up my slacks. Sliding them on and searching for the zipper, I keep my eyes on Sam. She's on her knees, holding the sheet to her chest. Her darker hair is falling loosely around her face, and I'm still finding it amusing. I'd never known her to be anything but blonde. Regardless of the change, our time has long past, and she'll never be more than an easy lay.

"I'm going to get something to drink, and when I come back, I want you spread eagle on the bed waiting."

"What is it going to be this time Grey, Scotch or Vodka?" Sam asks sarcastically.

"Stay out of it Sam and do what I say."

"Who were you texting? She asks and I pin her with a death stare. "I'm not one of your little Submissives, I can actually think for myself. And I know you were texting with a woman. I'm not stupid enough to turn this into more than what it is, but the only thing I'd asked is that when you're in bed with me that I be the only woman you're in bed with."

"Either do as I say or leave," I say, never taking my eyes off of her. As futile as it is, Sam tries to engage me in a stare down, but in less than a second she relents. Then huffing, she throws the sheet back exposing her nude body to me assuming the requisite position. "Now who's the little Submissive?" I say smirking, as I turn on my heels leaving her naked lying prostrate on the bed.

_I saved you cried that woman_

_And you've bit me even, why_

_You know your bite is poisonous….now I will die_

_Oh shut up silly woman said the reptile with a grin_

_You knew damn well I was a snake before you took me in_

_Al Wilson-The Snake_


	28. Chapter 28: Stay With Me

**Chapter 28:** Stay with me

**Disclaimer:** FSOG belongs to EL James

**A/N** is This chapter has been a challenge. After losing it three times and recreating and editing each time I can't look at anymore but I still hope you find it up to par ...Add Site issues to the equation - hopefully its worth the wait - if not be gentle with the criticism this times around...take into consideration all the hiccups.

Thank you all for reading, reviewing, and following -Please enjoy

"For the umpteenth time, you look perfect. He's not going to be there you know."

"Who?"

"Don't be coy, you know who. Christian."

"You've got it twisted; you're the one with Christian Grey on the brain. My only concern is keeping his little secret a secret."

"Please," Kate says blowing out a puff of air. "I know you're pregnant and still can't tell. Except for the cankles-."

"Ugh," I gasp loudly, cutting her off just as my head snaps down my eyes going directly to my ankles and feet.

"Relax. I was joking. Your feet and ankles are not swollen. We took care of the issue. Remember, it's the reason I let you con me into treating you like the pampered princess all day."

My head comes back up, and I roll my eyes at her. "Word to the wise. Not the kind of joke to make to a pregnant woman, who's about to have dinner with grandparents to be she was saddled with keeping said pregnancy from."

"Steele, I'm sorry for being instinctive, it must be tough. Has Christian given you any indication when he's planning to tell his parents and Mia? I know Elliot has offered to be there for moral support."

"Ah, that's nice. Elliot is a good Egg. Are you sure you two can't work your issues out?"

"You need to give it up. We don't have issues; we worked them out, and this is the result. And we're happy with our decision."

"Alright, I get it. Anyway, I'm glad Elliot will be there for his brother because Christian's going to need it. The same way I'm going to need your support when Dr. Grace turns me into a cadaver."

"I wouldn't worry it if I were you. You're the prized goose, carrying the golden egg from the golden gander."

Giggling. In the seat, I shift to face her and I pick up her hand. "Thank you for making me laugh, I needed it."

"You're welcome. So what's the deal with all the texting? You two have been texting a lot. Not that I'm complaining, I prefer it to the bitter arguments."

"All what texting? You mean the two texts that were precipitated by you?"

"Me?"

"Yes you, the first time-,"

She swats her hand at me dismissively interrupting me. "Move on I remember that. What's another time?"

"The use of his last name."

She snorts. "That shouldn't count. It was information you needed that frankly I'm surprised you were not on top of. By the way, I'm still team Steel, because I'm fairly certain Christian is going to demand you use Grey despite how irrational he's acting?"

"I don't know; I'm still team Sawyer. I like the ring of Sawyer Addison or Addison Sawyer."

"I still say it's too risky. Too many variables. I know you think he's your forever, but you're 18 years old. And 18 is a long way from forever."

"Well, before I can think about forever or the future for that matter. I have to stay present in the present."

"One look at you in that outfit he'll forgive you. Though I must give it to the boy, he didn't buckle. He didn't reach out once. So you have your work cut out for you."

"Maybe so, but I have a secret weapon under my outfit."

Kate starts cackling, shaking her head and waving her hands in the air. "Give it up," she squeals holding her palm up so I can give her a hi-five. "You are an uncover freak, and I love it. I'm so happy you've come over to my side."

"Whew. You had me worried; I couldn't tell if you were overtaken by the holy spirit or a Spirit.

"Come on we'd better get out of here. Ready?" she asks.

"Yep, let's blow this Popsicle stand," I reply.

Locking the door, Kate walks around the car to me, putting her keys in my hand. "Here you go."

When the door opens, we're greeted by Dr. Grace, Elliot, Mia and Mr. Grey, the same contingent that met us the afternoon of the Coping Together Gala. During dinner the conversation flowed smoothly it felt like I was having dinner with family, and not people for all intents and purposes I'd only met a hand full of times. Then it hits me hard, will they reject me or accept me when they find out about the baby, and it is at that moment, I feel him before I see him? When I avert my gaze, Christian is being escorted into the dining room by Gretchen, who's basking in his glow. I don't blame her he's devastatingly handsome, and I don't know if it's because of our recent detente, but it feels like I'm seeing him for the first time.

Under the table, Kate pinches me to get my attention. "Dinner just got interesting," she whispers.

"For who?" I ask

She then flashes a satisfied smile. "Me," she says, "Come on, you gotta admit the man can wear a suit. He looks good."

Kate lied, Christian looked more than good and the bit of scruff that he's sporting only makes him that more alluring. And if being his kind of handsome isn't a crime it should at least be a sin.

Sauntering to his mother, Christian bends down so she can hug his neck something she'd been dying to do since he'd entered the room. "Christian sweetheart I'm so happy to see," she coos releasing his neck. "We weren't expecting you. We'd just finish up dinner which means you're right on time for dessert."

"I didn't think I would make either, but my meeting ended sooner than I'd planned. So I thought I'd take a chance on dinner, but dessert is even better," he says his gray eyes trained on me as if the comment is directed squarely at me. The innuendo makes me squirm in my seat; it harkens back to our first one on one meeting at the hotel the day of the photo shoot.

"Well, have a seat, son. Gretchen is getting your place setting," Mr. Grey says.

"Thank you, dad, I will. First let me give squirt a kiss," he says walking around the table to his little sister.

"Hey Bro," Elliot calls, poking out his jaw to Christian pleading for a kiss too. But Christian ignores his shenanigans, patting him on the shoulder instead. "What no kiss?" As the family, interaction plays out in front of us Kate, and I sit in silence feeling like interlopers even though we're invited guests.

"Next time," Christian says lightheartedly taking the empty seat next to Mia. When he's carefree like this with his family, he looks his age. It's heartwarming seeing him interact with his family in this way; it makes me sad that his child will never experience this part of him.

Finished with his family, Christian finally acknowledges us. "Anastasia. Kate," he says, greeting us warmly.

"Hi Christian," Kate says, intentionally drawing out his name to annoy him. Because his demands to be called Mr. Grey irks her.

"Hi Christian," I say, and the voice that comes out of me is high pitched sounding more like a tween meeting Harry Styles for the first time than an adult. And I slink down a little in my chair from the embarrassment.

A wry smile playing on his lips, Christian piles onto my humiliation. "Hi Anastasia," he says repeating my name mocking me.

Still Mortified by my faux pas, I sit quietly and marvel at Gretchen's interaction with Christian as she put out his setting. It's amusing and sad actually watching her blatantly flirt with him, and him blatantly ignore her. Twisted as it is, it takes another woman making a fool out of herself over him to makes me feel better. I guess it's true misery loves company.

More relaxed, I tilt my head to Kate. "How embarrassing," I mumble under my breath.

"Don't worry I don't think anyone noticed," she whispers trying to reassure me.

"Christian did."

"Girl, you make it too easy for him. He's just playing with you."

"Christian, Anastasia was about to tell us about Harvard," Dr. Grace says pulling my attention from Kate. What the… We weren't talking about Harvard. It hasn't been a topic of conversation all night.

"Yes, Anastasia. Please tell us about Harvard. I'd been dying to hear about your stay and all the people you'd met," he says it nonchalantly, but he has a hidden agenda. I'm defensive, but I remember Kate's words. "He's playing with you."

So ignoring his snarkiness I recap my time at Harvard for his family. I keep the narration short because Kate has heard it more than once, plus I didn't want to give Christian too many details. As it is, he's already digging and is on one of his witch-hunts.

"So Anastasia what was it like meeting the Silicon Valley elites?" Mr. Grey asks taking me by surprise because he'd barely spoken a word to me since his initial hello. Like his son, he does not view me favorably, so it's not going to be fun for when he finds out that I'm carrying his first grandchild. I almost feel sorry for Christian having to deliver the news.

"Dad, you've meant most of them at the Gala or private meetings in my office." Christian responds before I can, and his response is his terse as if he's annoyed by his father's question.

Undeterred by his son's bratty attitude Mr. Grey follows through with his question. "Maybe, but I haven't met Marissa Mayers, the new it girl," Mr. Grey replies.

This time around I make sure to answer him, before his son does. "Luckily I was able to meet her, and I found her to be nice, despite the media's unflattering depiction of her. The same for Sheryl Sandberg, whom I admire a lot. I've read her book, _Lean In_ more times than I can count. "I say.

"Jealous Bro, someone else has taken your spot at the top?" Elliot asks and Christian knows the question is loaded with innuendos, but he doesn't take the bait.

Instead, he takes his frustration out on me. "It's the media Anastasia; it's what they do. Paint people with a broad brush," Christian says, condescendingly, as if he's lecturing me. And I'm about to give him a smart alec response until Mia gets in on the discussion, distracting me. Unbeknownst to her she just averted a turf war.

"It's the war on women," she says, introducing a cultural war into the conversation as she daintily dives into her desert.

"Come on Mia, let's not get started on that Democratic mumble jumble," Eliot says shocking me because I didn't peg him as a Republican.

"I don't think its mumble jumble," Kate says taking Mia's side going against her bed partner.

"Alrighty then, I think it's time to move away from the political minefield and talk about something more suitable for the dinner table," Dr. Grace says diplomatically.

"I agree," Christian answers immediately, making me uneasy. He's up to something. "So, Anastasia what about the friends," he says needling me.

But before I can respond, Kate jumps in. "Oh Ana stop being so coy, tell the people what they want to know. About your boyfriend." Like a scene from the exorcist my head whips around to her.

"Follow my lead," she mouths to me. And then she winks. Great, now I'm caught up in a game of cat and mouth between Kate and Christian.

"Ana," Mia squeals. "You have a boyfriend, and you're just telling us," Mia says giddily. Taking my eyes off Kate, I sneak a peek at Christian through my lashes, and his nostrils are flaring.

"Don't waste your time Mia Ana is too modest she won't share details. But let me just say, he's smart, handsome with the body to match." I know what she's doing, but I'm going to kill her.

"Ana, if Kate thinks he's handsome then he must be hot. She's picky," Mia says.

"You got that right sista; you needn't look any further than her date," Elliot proudly proclaims, and it's then that I realize I'd lost control of the conversation. My only hope now is that Kate won't sell me out.

"That superficial bullshit, can't put food on the table," Christian says his eyes laser focused on me.

"I don't know bro; it worked for you," Elliot says getting in another one of his zingers and Mia gets in on the fun before Christian has a chance to offer his rebuttal.

"Food on the table, Christian leave it to you to use old people speak when talking to a teenage girl about a boy. For a young man, I swear you're such a Sponge Bob Square Pants. Ana is young, right now it isn't about responsibility, it's about fun and what's between Mr. Hunk a burning love's legs." As soon as, the S leaves her mouth, I see the regret in Mia's face. She'd gotten so caught up in lecturing her brother; she'd forgotten where she was. Her face is redder than the red wine being poured. After all it's not the kind of language you mention at the dinner table with your parents and bigger brothers. It's for girlfriends on a late night with pints of ice cream.

Young lady and Mia Grey are hurled across the table at the same time with equal fervor, by Dr. Grace and Mr. Grey. I can't discern which parent is saying what, I just know they are not happy with their daughter. The brothers aren't exactly thrilled either, but they seem to be content to leave the disciplining to their parents.

"Someone isn't leaving the house again until she's 90," Elliot mumbles, getting a chuckle from me and Kate and a derisive snort from Christian. Mia, on the other hand, is not hearing it. I'm sympathetic to her plight, but I'm thankful that the attention has shifted to someone else.

Elliot's utterance may not have amused Mia, but it served to ease some of the tension at the table.

"Anastasia, please accept my apologies, Mia was inappropriate. With that said I think it's safe to say, we've exhausted the topic. We can agree that our little Ana has a boyfriend, but we do not get to discuss what she may or may not do with him intimately. So we can move on." I know she meant well, but she didn't help the situation. Cringing, I close my eyes and when they flutter open, they land on Christian's face. His eyes are narrowing, and they're aimed squarely at me. God, I need to get out of here, before the proverbial crap hits the fan.

"Thank you, mother, for clearing that up. I think we can also agree that you did more damage than Mia," Christian says sardonically, as he picks up his wine glass taking a sip. Unaware that we've engaged in sexual relations changing the nature of our relationship, Dr. Grace misinterprets Christian's comment.

"Nonsense Christian you're overreacting, because you're finding it hard to believe that the sweet little 8-year-old girl you helped rescued all those years ago has grown into a beautiful young woman. But you need to look at the positive, the Lord has put her back in your life. In our lives to be a part of that growth."

"Awkward," Elliot leans over and whispers to Christian. He tries to covers his mouth, but he can't shield his lips from me. I read them. Mainly because I'm staring so intently, dumbfounded at the dissect Ana's life fest that has broken out.

Shaking my head, I dial back in for the rest of Dr. Grace's monologue. "I'm a parent, so I understand. It's tough to see your babies become adults. Especially when that baby is your little girl," she says her voice cracks at the end. That part was for Mia and the moment they look at each other with misty eyes is touching beyond belief. Still Elliot manages to find the comedy. Latching on to the piece about Christian and me, he snickers.

"Elliot," Mr. Grey calls. "Are you okay?" he asks, sardonically.

"Sorry. I'm good. Thinking about our Christian here as a parent is hella funny. " Elliot may find humor in what he'd said, but by the vein bulging in Christian's neck he does not.

"Fuck you, Elliott," Christian barks and Kate shoots me a glare like I do something.

"Christian, watch your language at the dinner table," Dr. Grace says reprimanding him.

"Sorry mother," Christian says, and it's nice to see there's someone he bows down to.

"Hey mom, I've got something noncontroversial, our little Ana had a birthday this month," Elliot announces. Why me? Who named me the conversation starter when I wasn't looking. Still I'd much rather talk about my birthday, no matter how much I detest it than my personal life.

"Happy birthday sweetheart. 18 is a big one. We need to celebrate it. I wish you'd told me and we could've turned this into a party," Dr. Grace says.

"A party. Yes, I love a party," Mia exclaims, and I'm glad to see she's recovered and out of her funk. Her comment made me uncomfortable, but I think Dr. Grace blew it out of proportion. The truth be told, I was angrier about being referred to as a teenager than any mentions of my sex life.

"Hold on," I say giggling. "I don't need or want a party. But Dr. Grace thank you so much. Its the thought that counts," I say.

"Happy birthday, Ana," Mr. Gray says

"Thank you, sir," I swear this man is mercurial like his son.

"You know Anastasia, now I know why you look so radiant. A handsome new beau and an 18th birthday will do that to a girl. Here, I thought it was the one or two extra pounds," she says matter a factly and then there's a collective gasp from Christian, Elliot, Kate and me. Sputtering in my glass, I spew my lavender lemonade everywhere, while each of them gulps down their wine. Mia is also mortified, but less animated she just calls her mother out. In her defense Dr. Grace is unawares of the implications of her words; meanwhile, I'm going to kill Kate for not being honest and telling me I resembled a baby whale.

"Ana sweetheart are you alright? Gretchen, please get Ana a new napkin," Dr. Grace says multi-tasking, checking on me at the same time giving Gretchen her marching orders.

"Mom?" Mia shouts, talking over her mother.

"Mia, please, I'm talking to Anastasia," Dr. Grace says.

"Mom it's unbelievable, you called her fat. So I'd say, no she's not fine," Mia says.

"Mia Grey, you're putting words in my mouth, I did not call Anastasia fat," Dr. Gray, chides. Scanning the room, I get a glimpse of Christian and his impassive demeanor has returned, but his face is red under that beard.

"Mom, I'm just saying I heard fat," Mia says shrugging. She's trying to defend my honor, but in her quest she's giving me a complex by continuing to say fat over and over.

"Sorry mom, gotta take Mia's side on this one. You didn't say the word, but it was understood. I'm just saying.?" Elliot says in a more playful tone than his sister, but he uses her catchphrase.

"Will you two stop? Anastasia knows I didn't mean it in that way. It was a compliment-"

Unable to let it go, Mia's cuts her mother off again."A backhanded one," she says, under her breath.

"Watch it, young lady, you've gotten your only get out of jail free card," Mr. Grey says, warning her.

"Dr. Grace, I know what you meant so no apologies necessary. I overreacted because I didn't realize the extra pounds were that noticeable. I didn't gain the Freshmen 5, but the Senior 10 is kicking my butt," I say, relying on humor and an embellishment of the truth to get me out of the sticky situation.

"Sweetie just know you look great. I may get skewer for this too, but I'm going to say it. I thought you were too thin, so I'm glad to see you're eating healthily," she says, and I just say thank you. I want to avoid any further discussion about my weight.

"Hey Ana, don't worry about it. 5lbs, 10 lbs, 20 lbs it doesn't matter. You're still a hottie. Right bro?" Elliott says smirking. I don't know why he's goading his brother, but I wish he would stop, it's making me uncomfortable because it's usually at my expense.

"Elliot Grey, did you not hear a word I said. That was an inappropriate question to ask your brother about Anastasia. Not to mention, I will not allow my boys to objectify a woman in my presence and most certainly not when the woman is our little innocent Anastasia," she says. Luckily I'm not drinking because I'd spit that out too. And I want to ask her the same question she asked Elliot. Did she hear herself?

I lean slightly so Kate, and I can whisper. "I think this is my cue to leave."

"I don't blame you."

"Thanks again for the car."

"You're still going, huh."

"Yes, why wouldn't I."

"You know," she says nodding her head at Christian.

I paste a fake smile on my face and clench my teeth so no one can tell that I'm yelling at Kate. "Stop it."

"Well, he's been staring at you all night."

"Yeah, making sure I stay in line."

"Ladies, want to share?" Elliot asks.

"I'm sorry for being so rude," I say extending my apologies to the table. "I was just telling Kate that I was heading out." Christian clears his throat and when we make eye contact, he glowers at me.

"You're leaving already? What about you Kate?" Dr. Grace asks, and I speak for her.

"I have to be somewhere, but Kate is staying," I say.

"Are you sure you're not leaving because of all the chatter about you?" Dr. Grace asks.

" No, I promise. I have a bit of a drive, so I wanted to get on the road before too late," I say giving out misleading information to throw Christian off. I'm not ready to divulge that he lives in the same city as Luke. Speaking of Christian, his eyes are still on me, but I keep mine focused on Dr. Grace.

"Then please drive safely," Dr. Grace says, and she starts pushing back on her chair, but I leap out of mine and race to her, to reach her before she rises.

Bending down I hug her, thanking her profusely while she apologizes to me profusely. Removing my arms from around her neck, I wave my goodbyes to the others at the table to avoid an awkward scene with Christian. Then just as I'm about to breathe a sigh of relief that I'd survived dinner with him and his family, Christian announces that he's going to walk me out.

Remaining expressionless but screaming no inside my head I accept his kind gesture. Chivalry isn't dead, but I'm doubtful I'd appealed to Christian's higher nature, he has an ulterior motive. Probably to rail on me about crossing some arbitrary line he'd set for me. Tossing about the possibilities, behind his sudden attack of chivalry, I proceed to the edge of the dining room to wait for him. Turning to face forward, I make eye contact with Kate, and she's wearing a smug expression on her face

Ogling Christian as he heads towards me, I'm thinking why me. All I wanted to do is go to the boyfriend everyone has been talking about and beg him to take me back. Instead, I'm watching Mr. cocky approach in his blue suit and crisp white shirt, looking all mouthwatering. And I'm not even hungry. You combine the look of him with his swagger and he's the epitome of male perfection. He is such a waste of a beautiful package because inside his content has rotten over time. Still it doesn't stop me from undressing him with my mind's eyes while keeping up with the charade that I'm only his innocent doe-eyed admirer. It's hard to believe that at one time our relationship had been that innocent but we've come a long way in a short period. And we'd been battling for so long, this is the first time in a long while I'd been able to appreciate the beauty and it's been eye-opening. He's such a force of nature I'm finding it hard to believe myself he'd slept with me. Is he justified in his hatred of me, because if I'm honest, I'm in doubt that he'd slept with me if I'd not manipulated the situation. After all look at me and look him.

"Ready," Christian croons, pulling me back from my self-loathing. I need to stay away from the destructive thinking because regardless he did sleep with me and soon there will be a gray-eyed heir as proof.

Putting his hand at the small of my back he touches me and I flinch. "Are you okay, you look a little peaked?" Christian asks. Suddenly is voice is smooth and warm like the molten chocolate cake we'd just been served for dessert and it's swoon worthy. I'd not prepared for occupying his airspace, seeing he wasn't supposed to be here.

"Yes," I say

"Did you wear a coat?" He asks.

"No, I'm wearing long sleeves. It's enough."

"It's not summer you know."

"Yes Christian, I know," I say, as he finally leads me out of the dining room. Everyone yells a final goodbye to me as we clear the threshold and I hold a hand up to them.

"Well that was interesting, and it was the only dessert. I can't imagine what dinner must have been like," Christian says and since we no longer have a crowd, I step from under his touch. He smirks but says nothing.

"Let just say it lacked the excitement you brought with you to desert," I say

A genuine smile on his face, he chuckles. "I see how this is going to go, the blame is being placed on my shoulder," he chortles. Maybe his motives weren't sinister after all.

I giggle. His playfulness is infectious. "If the shoe fits," I say. "You didn't have to do this you know."

"I disagree. I think it was warranted," he says and his smile slips. "Why didn't you tell me you were planning to leave early?" he chides and just like that playful Christian is gone making a liar out of me. Let the fireworks begin. We're not alone so they can't be that explosive.

"Firstly, you weren't supposed to be here. Secondly, you're not the boss of me and finally when was I supposed to tell you. It's not like we talk all the time. We just starting having any type of communication for God sake," I say hotly using my inside voice.

"Do you want to talk to me every day, Anastasia. Is this your passive aggressive way of asking," he says all full of himself.

"No Christian it is not, "I retort. "A Text every blue moon is more than enough."

Perturbed, Christian puts his hand out latching on to a few of my fingers bringing us to a standstill and we're face to face. But my eyes fall to where our fingers are entwined. "My mother was right, you look radiant," Mr. Mercurial says when I hold my head back up meeting his scrutinizing gaze.

I snatch my fingers back from his grasp before responding. "Thank you," I say, with some reluctance. But I keep with the standard response deciding not to call him out on his hypocrisy. Clearly, any glow is from a pregnancy that he has renounced.

"Why are you always so skeptical of my compliments."

I can't help myself I laugh at his tone deafness and I start moving again. "You have to ask?"

"I like a good laugh as much as the next guy. Care to share what's so funny."

"You," I say deadpan. "You rarely have anything nice to say to me and yet you wonder why when you do I find it hard to take at face value."

Turning my head, I sneak at peek at him to test his reaction. His jaws are clenched, still he's distracting. I have to remind myself to stay focus on the door that suddenly feels like an entire football field away. Regardless, of the distance I have to maintain my casual pace as not to let on how much I 'm affected by him. The smell of him is so luscious, it should be bottled as is. And blue is his color for sure. And Grey. And black. Who am I kidding I bet there isn't a color on the color wheel he can not wear.

Christians sighs, taking me away from my meandering thoughts. "I was hoping we could talk," he says sternly. "We could go to the boathouse for privacy," he adds as if that's the nugget needed to convince me. When in actuality, it's the complete opposite, the structure is loaded with too many memories of our last encounter. And since I'm not searching for a repeat performance, it's definitely not going to happen. Being in there would be a slippery slope to nothing but bad things.

"I can't. I'm leaving, remember," I say firmly and it's as much a reminder to him as it is for me.

"If I recall I'm owed a free show," he says, his eyes downcast and on my feet. The banter that was innocent over text, in person sounds like an invitation to salacious acts.

"Some other time. By then they'll probably be even bigger," I respond employing Elliot's tactic. Injecting some humor to diffuse the rising sexual tension.

Thank the Lord for the space separating us, it's the only thing saving me from wrapping my body around him like Ivy daring him to do the lascivious things the heat in his eyes is promising. I almost wish he'd hurl obscenities at me to douse the desire simmering beneath my calm exterior. I want to be reminded of the bastard he truly is, and not the suave, debonair human he's pretending to be. So I can go on my way with no lingering thoughts of him.

"You're going to see him aren't you?" He asks me point blank as if he has the right and he'd read my mind. His audacity and coldness are just the antidotes for my awaken libido. I'm brought back to reality. He's the snake, he'd warned me about. He'll never change his nature. And it would serve me well to take him at his word. I'm reminded of Maya Angelou's famous quote, "when people show you who they are believe them".

"You're very forward, asking a question that is frankly none of your business," I say refusing to dignify his question with an answer.

I'm already at the door so to avoid further probing questions, I reach for the knob so I can make my escape. Freedom is a mere open door away, but a clean break isn't in the cards. Christian grabs me by my elbow stunning me preventing me from going forward. My head is spinning with so many questions when all I want is to be anywhere but near him.

"Answer me," he says between clenched teeth.

Now irate, my eyes flicker where his hand is squeezing me on my arm and back to his face. Exasperated I give him his answer. "Yes," I spit out daring him to throw his favorite insult back at me. By the way, his lips are twitching I'd say it's on the tip of his tongue, but his blow back never comes. He just pins me with his patent glare while putting more pressure on my arm. "Let go of me," I seethe, snatching my arm from his grip.

But the Prince of Darkness intervenes and the break isn't clean; instead, as if it was choreographed by Lucifer himself our fingertips touch allowing Christian to grab hold of my hand. Initially, I'm incensed, but then when he traces his thumb over the back of my fingers, I'm aroused. So much so, I can feel the moisture pooling between my thighs.

She thinks she's going to leave me to see the fucker, she'd better think again. I don't lose; I win in all things, and I want her in my bed tonight. By rubbing small circles on the back of her hand with my thumb, my seduction of her has begun. Jerking on her hand, I pull her to me, and our bodies collide. I'd intended to continue my seduction by whispering naughty threats in her ear. However, I have a change of heart. I pin her arm behind her back shoving her up against my parents' door. Her eyes grow wide, and her alabaster skin is the perfect shade of pink; little Miss Steele is panicked and turned on at the same time. I like it. Resting the back of her head flush against the door, Anastasia angles her face away from me.

Cupping her by her lower jaw with my free hand I bring her face back to me. "Don't," she says, whispering a faint protest.

"You want this as much as I do," I say huskily and tilting her head up I crash my mouth to hers. "Stay with me," I whisper against her lips and her already closed eyes go tighter in deeper contemplation.

Then sucking on her full bottom lip I coax her mouth open slipping my tongue inside exploring her mouth getting reacquainted with the taste of her. Swirling my tongue over hers I release her face and arm, immediately grabbing the back of her head deepening the kiss. Moaning, in my mouth Anastasia comes to her toes and shocking me, she weaves her hand in my hair pulling me tighter pushing my tongue further to the back of her throat.

"Gah," I yell to myself and in my head stomp my feet. I'd meant to push him away; instead, my hands are in his glorious mop of hair encouraging him. My common sense has taken a leap out the window along with the antidote that turned out to be nothing but snake oil.

Over the fabric of her skirt, I grope her firm round ass pushing her into me as I grind down on her sex through our clothes. Then moving my hand up I start caressing her side bringing her blouse up as I go exposing a patch of her smooth skin. As my fingers graze the area, I can feel the quivers swarming her body. "Relax," I mumble in her mouth as I continue to devour it. Snaking my hand under her shirt I find that her chest is bare. Pulling back from the kiss, I rasp against her lips, "No bra." But I don't give her chance to respond before my tongue is again at the base of her throat.

I cringe that he's privy to this intimate secret that was meant for Luke only. Luke, who I should be kissing. That was my plan. Add another hash mark, another plan foiled by Christian Grey.

Cupping her full heavy breast, I squeeze and massage, quickly uncovering a benefit of her pregnancy. Her breasts have grown substantially since the last time I'd held them. This has possibilities; maybe I should rethink my stance, why should the fucker reap the benefits of my seed. Moving my hand from the back of her head I pull out of the kiss completely, giving her a moment to catch her breath. Then I capture her mouth again, to keep from popping a mound in my mouth. Unfortunately, I'd remembered I was in my parents home, so it doesn't allow for me to do to her all the things I want. Like flipping her to her front fucking her from behind as the doorknob hit her clit for additional stimulation.

That's it we need to be at Escala right now, fuck this dry humping shit like I'm a horny teenager. My dick is in need of relief. Extracting my tongue from her mouth I rest my forehead on hers and it forces her hand out of my hair.

"I want to fuck you," I say outright. Fuck being subtle. Bringing her hands up Anastasia rests them on my chest trying to push back on me. But she's not strong enough to move me if I don't want to be moved.

"What? I turn 18 so now I'm welcomed in your bed? Is that the magic age of consent for the mighty Christian Grey. One year is all it takes to help you sleep at night knowing your precious image and empire are protected?" She snarls. I don't have the patience or the desire to endure a moral lecture from her right now, so I need to put an end to this line of questioning.

"Anastasia you want me to fuck you just as much as I want to fuck you,'' I say fervently. She is acting righteous, but she's turned on.

"You're a hypocrite and an ass. A hypocrite for continually throwing my age in my face and ass for thinking one kiss would erase all of it and I'd just fall right back into your bed. So my answer is an emphatic no," she says sternly. "Now move out of my way so I can go." She brings her hands up, but this time I'm faster and I grab her puny wrists.

"You're overthinking things. No, is coming out of your mouth. But I know your body and baby it's screaming yes," I respond to her ridiculousness, trying to deny me and herself in the process. As for her assessment of me, I dismiss it because she's not telling me anything I don't already know.

"Correction. You use to know my body, but now someone else does," she proclaims. The response takes me by surprise, the momentary lapse gives her an opening and she snatches her wrists from my hands. What the fuck, how dare she insinuate that the prick of a boy knows her better than I do? If I were a benevolent son of a bitch, I'd let her leave here believing the absurdity and I'd feel sorry for the asshole, for buying into the bullshit she's selling him. But I'm not. I'm a vengeful SOB and I will prove to her that I so do own her body and I can make her bend to my will. I can have her anywhere, anytime, and any place I please.

Smirking, I rest my hands on the door above her head and I stare in her bewildered eyes. "That kiss, says something different. Were you thinking about him then?"

Pissing me off she snorts. What the fuck? That's not the response I'd expected. "The kiss you stole," she responds, chuckling, "and yes I was," she adds taunting me.

Shit. Game on Miss Steele, you've just moved up from the Minors to the Majors. Let's play. I'll remind her what it's like to be with a man and not a boy. My lips curl up in a wicked smile. "It's not theft if it's given up freely," I say and I tilt my head down so my mouth is at her ear.

"If the kiss didn't do it for you, maybe this will," he whispers.

It is then that I should slap his face and leave, but I don't. And I can almost telegraph what he's going to do to me next, but I'm too enthralled to stop him and more abhorrently I'm not sure I want too. My heart is pounding out run, but my traitorous body is pleading with me to stay. Surrendering I sag against the door.

Now, I just have to do what I do best, get a woman to submit to me. Pushing her shirt up, I tweak her nipples before letting my hand glide over her skin. When it reaches her stomach, I feel the barely there bulge and her body shudders.

This is the closest he's been to my stomach since he'd found out about the baby and I'm tempted to put my hand on top of his pausing it there. Maybe if he feels his child growing inside of me, he'll change his mind. But I'm too much of a coward, letting the moment pass me by, as he continues on his way down to my nether regions.

As my hand continues downward, I can still feel her trembling and I'm compelled to reassure her. "Relax, I got you," I whisper as my hand easily snakes inside the elastic waistband of her skirt and her head falls forward to my chest.

"I can't do this," she murmurs against my jacket.

"Yes, you can," I say softly, against the top of her head. My hand pauses and it is then that I realize she's not wearing panties either. Holy shit. Fuck me.

Right now, I could give a shit that I'm in my parent's home and they're merely a few feet away having dinner with guests. I want this and despite her momentary attack of puritanical sensibility Anastasia wants it too.

"Anastasia you're not wearing panties. Which means you're naked under your clothes, "I say breathily. Removing my hand from her skirt, I nudge her head back from my shoulder and tilting my head down I put my finger under her chin lifting her mouth to me. I bite her bottom lip. "You really are a naughty school girl," I say huskily, releasing her chin. Then I refocus on my ultimate goal and sticking my hand back in her skirt I skate over bare sex. Warring with herself, Anastasia tries not to moan, but when I dip a finger inside her pussy, she can't hold out any longer.

"Ah," she whimpers her head rolling back against the door. The sound makes me smile, she's been aching for this and I'm the one giving it to her. The fucker can't even please her. So how can she even compare him to me.I was the first one to have her after all.

"Fuck baby, you're soaking," I mumble in her hair as I pump my finger deeper into her and Anastasia's hip starts moving in circles, begging me to finger fuck her. "You're still so responsive," I say huskily, reminding her who'd had her first. Keeping my moans to a murmur so no one can hear us, I continue pumping my finger in and out of her drenched sex. "Say yes. Come home with me." She's moans quietly and by the feel of her walls clenching around my finger she's ready but she's also hesitant. "Is this enough?" I say and I flick my finger up hitting her nub.

"Christian, nothing has changed," she says, breathlessly gripping my forearms trying to stifle a moan

"Baby, you're not wearing panties or a bra which means you're naked under your clothes. Add to that my hand buried deep in your pussy, I'd say fucking you is moot at this point," I say in irritation. Then to prove my point I push my finger even deeper taking her by surprise pinning her against the door. Leaning in, I whisper more gently this time. "So the only question that remains is where; against this door or in my bed." The words are barely out of my mouth before her hands are covering mine over skirt.

"Stop," she murmurs, her voice quivering.

I pull my hand back, resting it on her waist keeping the other pressed against the door. "Anastasia, don't deny yourself. You want this."

"Christian, please just let me leave," she whispers and I bring my hand around to her ass pushing her into me so she can feel what she's done to me.

"The last time was on your term, you owe me this one," I say and she freezes.

"You really don't think very much of me," she says it so quietly, I'm not sure it was meant for my ear. But I do hear it. I remove my hand from her ass and rest my forehead on hers.

She's letting the self-doubt, get to her. I know she wants this, but she'll leave if I don't salvage it fast. I remove a hand from the door and bring it to her face I run my thumb over her cheek. And I feel the moisture.

"You're crying," I say, gently.

"Why are you doing this to me? You know you don't have to strong arm me to sleep with you," she says, softly.

I don't respond, I simply keep my forehead on hers and in the quite surrounding us I simply listen to her breathe.

"You want me. Stay with me," I say and I grab her hand and she jerks it from me before I can rest it over the bulge in my pants begging for some relief from her.

"You don't get it," she whispers and she pushes on my chest and this time I let her.

I'm incredulous. "You're choosing him?" I ask.

"I'm choosing hope over one night. Good night, Christian." The door eases opens and she slips through it.

"Anastasia," I call, but she fades in the dark.

He calls my name, but I don't let it break my stride. I hurry down the steps taking them two at a time afraid to pause for fear of choosing to go with my body over my head. The light chill in the night air is exactly what I need to cool me down and bring me back to my senses. After all, it was all a game to him. A game he does not play fair and so much better than me. So I'm the idiot for kissing him back engaging in the dangerous seduction chest match. Meeting his low expectations of me. Sadly, even with the humiliation, I can't say that if he came after me I'd reject him.

Fumbling with the keys I finally get the car door open, and once inside I rest my hands on the steering wheel trying to calm down and stop my hands from trembling. My shaking under control, I start the Mercedes and "Angel" comes on the radio. Immediately turning it off, I ease the car out of the driveway. I can't believe I'd considered his indecent proposal for even one second. Following through, would've been the definition of Einstein's insanity; clearly, he was looking for one night, and I want a lifetime. And my best chance for that is across town.

My phone rings and hurriedly I get the earbuds in my ears just in time. "Hi, Kate."

"Don't, Hi Kate me sounding all innocent. What the hell?" she says, whispering when she wants to scream.

"Why are you whispering?" Human nature, I whisper though I don't have too.

"I'm in the restroom. I didn't want anyone to hear me. I saw you and Christian going at like rabbits. What the Hell?"

"Oh my God." I squeal, a hand flying from the steering wheel to my mouth. My whole body swelling with embarrassment.

"Don't worry no one else saw you guys. I only did because I was on the way to the restroom.

"So stupid," I say out loud chastising myself. "What was I thinking Kate, for doing something so brazen in his parents' home while they were there no less?"

"My guess, you weren't. Like I said no one saw you and since voyeurism isn't my thing, believe it or not, I didn't hang around. So spill?"

"He wanted me to stay with him" I disclose if only to hear the words come out of my mouth to ensure I didn't imagine them coming from his.

"That's huge, it has to mean something. Right?"

"Yes, that he wanted to fuck me and throw it back in my face later!" I blurt out, unashamed of my use of the F-bomb. It just felt right.

"AnaGene, look at you, saying fuck. I'm so proud of you. Finally, you've grown up."

"Kate can you get serious, I can do without your sarcasm right now."

"Okay, I'm serious and I seriously think you should've kicked him in the balls. Because if he throws shit like that up in your face, you need to stand up for yourself and tell him go fuck himself.

"To tell you he truth I'm angrier with myself. I knew what wanted, but I want more."

"From him?"

"No," I yell out in exasperation. "In general."

"Just checking to make sure this is still what you want."

"Kate, I slipped, but I'm still resolved to get Luke back.

"What if he rejects you. Will you go to Christian?"

"NO. If Luke rejects me, I will stay there until I get him to change his mind. I'm in love with him Kate. I was a diversion for Christian, and he was a minor distraction for me. Plain and simple.

"Ok, good luck. I better get back before they get suspicious. I'll let you know what happens with Christian."

"No, you want. I don't care. I've got more important things on my mind.," I say, and we end the call.

Still reeling and shaking, I stand in front of his door feeling uneasy. My guilt is bubbling over. It is not how I'd scripted tonight. The night was meant to be all about me and Luke, so I can't believe I'd allow Christian to hijack it. My fist hovering over the C, I pause to collect myself and my thought. Because I can't fully shake him off. Then the door flies open on its own accord.

"Ana," Luke says, looking as surprised to see me as I am to see him. The bead of sweat covering his bare hard chest momentarily distracts me. Apparently, he'd been working out or just coming from a working out.

I swallow the lump at the base of my throat so I can speak. "Hi. From the looks of it, you were expecting someone else," I get out.

"And you look like you'd just seen a ghost," he responds before snaking his arm around my waist hauling me inside slamming the door closed with his free hand. Setting my feet on the floor, he captures my face in his hands covering my mouth with his. "I've missed you," he whispers against my lips.

"I've missed you too," I say resting my hands on his sweaty forearms as he pulls my face in tighter to deepen the kiss.

Pulling back from the kiss, his hands fall away, and so does mine. And then stepping back slightly, he scans my whole body. "You're here," he says in disbelieve.

"Yes. I'm here," I say, and he starts running his hands up and down my arms.

"Baby, you're shaking. I can feel it through your shirt," he says. "What's wrong?"

"I was worried. I didn't know what kind of reception I would receive showing up here uninvited," I say, my voice now shaking too.

"Well, you can stop worrying," he says, putting a finger under my chin tipping it up. "I'm elated that you're here."

"I must be honest I'd expected more of a fight. But I'm not complaining."

"No fight here. I have no fight left; I've been miserable without you," he says tilting his head down to give me a peck on the lips. "I'm sweaty, come shower with me," he says.

A shower is just what I need to wash away the smell of him. "You've read my mind," I say.

My chest bare to him, Luke steps back to lustfully inspect. "No bra," he says echoing Christian and the words sound more tawdry than ever before and I vow to wear a bra always. Pretty soon I won't have a choice, my breasts are growing at an alarming rate. I'm surprised Dr. Grace didn't call me out for them too. "You know what I like," he says bringing my attention back to him, and another wave of guilt washes over me. I need that shower now.

The water at the right temperature, Luke guides me into the glass enclosure. Then I walk directly under the downpour reveling in the feel of the water against my skin. Letting my head fall back I simply let the water cascade over me. Bringing my head forward, I reach to the shelf for the bar of soap and I begin the process of cleansing my body and mind of him.

"Let me," Luke says, huskily taking the soap from my hand and taking over. Rubbing the bar over my body he pays attention to every part of it. Stopping at my sex he sets the soap back on the ledge. "I don't need this," he says as he runs his hand between my thighs.

"Ah," I moan when he gets to my sex and his hand parts my folds rubbing the nub at the center.

"Step back," he says and removing his hand Luke helps guide me to where he wants me. "Now reach up and grab the bars behind your head," he instructs and tilting my head back, I reach for them doing as he says. Lasciviously eyeing my wet and nude body dangling from the bar Luke steps forward lifting my legs lining my entrance up with his erection. And then he slams into me.

"Fuck," he grunts. "I love you," he says pulling his cock to the tip before slamming back into me.

"Ah," I cry. It's been awhile, so I have to get acclimated to him again. Removing one hand from the bar, I reach out and rest my palm on the glass shower door as he pounds into me.

And just when I'm getting lost in him, Luke abruptly pulls out of me. Peeling my hands from the glass and the bar he moves them to his shoulders before helping me to my feet. Then untangling my arms from his neck he turns me so I'm facing the tiled wall, and I brace my palms against it. Panting and waiting for what he has planned for me next I feel him getting into position between my legs. Using the cascading water as the lubricant he inserts his finger into my anus moving it in and out. It's overwhelming but not exactly surprising since I'd expected it. His finger still in me, he lines his cock up with my entrance and in one thrust he is deep in my core.

We towel dry and then Luke carries me to his bedroom where he prevails upon my body some more. Our makeup sex ran the gamut of loving making to dark and gritty. We covered all the bases including spanking, anal, oral, and masturbation. I'd suspect he'd wanted to remind me what I'd walked out on, and he'd succeeded.

"Babe," Luke calls bringing me to the here is now. "Are you sleeping?"

"No just resting my eyes thinking about all the thing you did to me."

"If you're a good girl I may do them to you again," he says pushing off the door frame and coming to me. Leaning down he gives me a light kiss on the forehead before coming back upright. "No cold water, sorry I wasn't expecting guess."

"Room temperature is fine," I murmur.

"Okay. I love you. You know that?" he says.

"I love you too," I say, smiling up at him and Luke returns my smile before going back for my water. Once he clears the door, another wave of guilt comes over me.

Shifting, I lean over him setting the bottled water on his bedside table. Then I fall back into the crook of his arm, the space that is just for me. "I really miss this," I say rubbing small circles on his chest.

"Me too. I missed all of it," he says, and his voice is pained.

"Resting my hand on his chest I peek up at his face and into his soulful eyes. "I'm here," I say, pausing to examine his expression. "You told me to call you when I knew where I stood. I want to stand with you. I love you, and I'm ready to prove it this time." I say. The words are barely out of my mouth before he has me on my back and my arms pinned above my head.

"Then why do I feel like only half of you is here."

"You have all of me."

"Baby, don't do this. Let's not start anew with the same old bullshit."

"I saw the baby's father," I confess, blurting it out before I can change my mind.

"I should have known, you were upset He's the only person that can affect you in that way.," he says sarcastically.

"Don't be mad and please don't make anything out of it. I only told you because I didn't want to lie, but I hope you understand that I can't give details. But please know I only want to be with you."

"I wish to not talk about him ever again when we're in bed," he says releasing my arms. "Open your legs and push your knees up for me. I want to fuck you," he says huskily, and I can't help it I turn my face away from him. That word is still raw.

"Can we not use that word," I whisper when I bring my head forward, and the lust in his eyes has changed to fury.

"Baby, did he come on to you," Luke roars as he kneels between my legs. "I swear Ana if he touched you or came on to you I will kick his ass. I'm tired of threatening a ghost so you have to tell me who he is. He needs to understand that just because in one night he made a baby there are boundaries, and he doesn't get to cross them at will."

Sitting up I try to reason with him. "Please don't let this mar our first night back together. Come back," I say softly lowering my body, "coming back to me." Then bringing my knees up I spread my legs wide opening myself up to him. "Fuck me," I say breathily.

At first he's tentative, then holding my gaze he lowers himself, anchoring his elbow on either side of my head, and then he slides into me.

"Fuck," Luke grunts as he finds his way deep in my sex

CPOV

She's running, I can't believe I fucked things up. Reaching forward I close the door and lock it. The smell of her is lingering on my finger. In the air. Unable to make sense of what just transpired, my head rolls back in exasperation.

"Hey, bro" I hear Elliot behind me, and cringing I close my eyes. What the fuck does he want? No doubt my mom sent him, or he's just nosy.

"What do you want Eliott," I ask, keeping my back to him.

"Don't be mad at me be mad at mom. She sent me to see what's holding you up and to make Ana got off okay. You were gone a long time."

"Everything is fine. Anastasia is gone," I say, and regrettably I spin to the front facing him.

"Whoa dude," he says putting his arms up in front of his eyes as if he's trying not to see something. "You better do something about that boner before you go back in there."

Peeking down I examine my trousers. "So it's bigger than yours, still you got one."

"What the fuck man? Don't tell me. On your way to the door, you bumped into an erection."

"Hilarious. What can I say, I was just following your suggestion, playing nice."

"I think my exact words were treated her with respect, not make another baby," he says sarcastically. "Where's Ana? Is she okay?"

"She's not standing here is she," I say mockingly "She's fine. Trust me,"I snarl. I want to confess, it's because I teed her up for the asshole. "Seeing that I'm the one with a hard on the size of Mount Rushmore you should be worrying about me."

He snorts. "Please. Worry about you when you're only one phone call away from some pussy. So what exactly did you do to find yourself in this peculiar situation?"

"I'm not giving you details, pervert."

"You don't have to; I can put two and two together. You hit on her, and she turned you down. Man, you got some nerve, you treat the girl like crap then you try to get in her pants," he says shaking his head. "Good for her. I'm starting to like Ana more and more. You on the other hand not so much."

"This is what you get when you take the boy out of Detroit."

"Holy shit, don't you start off on that tangent. You only play that card when you want someone to feel sorry for you. Well, get over yourself. You're a billionaire, aside from pussy, you've got presidents and princes on speed dial." He says and I have to laugh.

"Now that's funny," I say slapping his shoulder. "Tell mom I'll be out soon. Go before she sends a search party for you too. I'm going to the bathroom."

"If you go to my bedroom, some gel may still be in my bathroom. It's probably old but it's better than nothing," he says, grinning the entire time. "You may have to go the emergency room to get that thing down.

"Fuck off."

"Hey, I'm just trying to help a brother out," he says putting his hands up before he heads back to the dining room.

Meanwhile, I head upstairs to Elliot's bathrooms making a mental note to have Taylor find out about the fucker that Anastasia is calling her boyfriend. Fuck the not knowing. I'll deal with the fallout from her later.

Ana POV

I almost make it outside to freedom away from his temptation. Until he grabs my fingers pulling me and in what feels like slow-motion and warped speed rolled into one I crash into his chest. I'm trapped and aroused, with his scent filling my nose, and his bulge pressed against my belly. I try hard to conjure up Luke's face, but I can't see him. And it feels like I'm suffocating as I battle with my inner turmoil. If only I could breathe, I could think. Turning my head away from him seeking a bit of air space free from of him I try to protest. Then he squeezes my face. Keeping his tight grip on my jaw Christian pries my lips apart plunging his tongue deep into the back of my throat in a glorious assault on my mouth. I allowed him to steal what was not saved for him before freely surrendering to his touch. Relishing in the feel of his hand on my body, the way my breasts feel in the palm of his hands is overwhelming. And the feel of his hand between my legs, his finger in my sex is more than I can handle, but I want more. I can't get enough of him, lifting my hips to meet his finger I gyrate, and he pumps in and out of me. Begging with my body, I want him to take me higher. And higher. And higher…

"Uh," I gasp jolting upright. Panting, the back of my hand flies to my mouth as my eyes roam the room. It felt real because it was except I actually came this time.

"Baby," Luke calls coming up behind me resting his hands on my shoulders. "Are you okay?" He asks and all I can do is nod my head. "A nightmare?"

"Yes," I croak. My voice is dry, so he reaches back for my water handing the bottle to me. A nightmare that I enjoyed. I don't know what that says about me.

"Thank you, "I say handing the bottle back to him.

"You haven't had one of those in a while."

"Nope," I say squeezing my thighs together feeling the moisture between my legs. I don't recall ever having an orgasm in my sleep.

"You're shaking again," he says gently running his hands along my naked arms. "Come here," he says pulling me back down with him to the bed so I can lay in his arms. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," I say flatly, as my mind wanders outside to the night sky. Staring at the stars, I feel guilty for letting him comfort me when I'd just come from dreaming about a tryst with another man. The side of my face resting on his chest and my mind drifting somewhere else I need his reminder. It' becoming clear, I'm in love with Luke and in lust with Christian.

"Make love to me," I murmur


	29. Chapter 29: Come Away With Me

**Chapter 29:** Come Away With Me

**Disclaimer:** FSOG belongs to EL James.

**A/N:** This chapter is somewhat longer than others because in the middle of writing I decided to combine chapters to move the story along to the next phase. So I had to edit the words down which took me much longer. On the positive side the next chapter will be much shorter, so I should be able to get it out by the weekend. Team Luke will find it a delight –Team Christian will find it a tougher read...but hopefully everyone will enjoy it – And be kind with the review... As always thank you for reading, reviewing and following- Please enjoy (This is a long chapter so please forgive me if it's riddled with mistakes- try to look over them and I'll do better next time)

**CPOV**

Her voice cracks. "Why are you so cold?" she asks. Sighing inwardly, I run my hand through my hair. Good question, I didn't realize I was colder than at any other time. Perhaps my frostiness is due to the asinine conversation she's forced me into. I don't have time for the nonsense. On its own accord, my chair rolls back slightly and taking advantage one at a time I casually rest my feet on the desk crossing them at the ankles. Then my head falls back, as I contemplate how to humor the exasperating young woman on the other end of the call. "Is it because of last night?" She doesn't wait for my response; instead being the presumptuous female she is, Anastasia follows up with an equally preposterous question, and I scoff at the notion.

What fucking moxie, she leaves me with a raging hard on that took more hand jobs and cold showers than I care to count to get rid of and she has the temerity to bring the night up. My head explodes and taking my feet down I roll the chair forward. Angling the iPhone away from my mouth, I bite down on my bottom lip to refrain from coming down on her too heavy-handedly.

It doesn't work. Lowering the iPhone back down to my mouth I take a deep breath. "Anastasia listen carefully. I don't make it a habit of refuting my mother but in this instance I think it's warranted; my world does not end or begin with you. Has it occurred to you that I'm a busy man with far more important things on my agenda than to engage you in petty conversation," I snarl. I'm agitated and growing wary of her juvenile antics masquerading as audacity. "So you either get to the point or get off the phone."

She sighs harshly like she's digging deep for some hidden superpower. "I disagree wholeheartedly, a dialogue about your unborn child is not petty, and I feel sorry for you if that's how you feel," she retorts, her voice steadier and sassier.

How dare she pity me? "Anastasia," I say in a warning tone.

She sighs again this time it's not as menacing. "I have a Dr's appointment on Tuesday, and since you've insisted on taking care of my medical expenses, I wanted to go ahead and have the insurance information updated," she says, finally getting to the point.

"That's it? A text would have sufficed," I say, berating her. Disgusted that she'd unnecessarily intruded in on my business space which is sacred to me.

"You're constantly browbeating about how you value your privacy so I didn't think you'd want to handle such personal information in that format." Fair point well-made I think to myself, but there's no fucking way I'm conceding anything to her.

Pushing back on the chair, I swivel to gaze out my bank of windows to remind myself of how high up I fall on the food chain compared to her. "No Anastasia, I would not," I say sighing audibly. "I didn't think I needed to spell it out for you, but I was implying that you could've texted me, and I'd follow up with the office directly."

"You know Christian, you don't have to talk me like I'm an imbecile."

"Then stop acting like one," I spit out, and there's a pregnant pause. "This has gone on long enough. Anastasia send me your doctor's information, and I will take care of it," I bark.

"Thank you," she snaps and disconnects the call before I can. Slamming the iPhone to my desk, I smash my finger down on the intercom.

"Andrea," I bark.

"Yes, Mr. Grey."

"Pull my personal medical insurance information and bring it to my office in 5 minutes."

Xxxxxxxxx

Holding the phone, I stare at the screen in dismay as if somehow it's to blame for my stupidity. By now his childish behavior is predictable, yet I still let him get to me. So the problem is with me not him, I'm too sensitive considering the hardened circumstances of my upbringing. I feel things too deeply, and I fall too quickly, which is why they call me naive. A moniker I hate, but I can't shake because I am. Especially when it comes to him. Because in spite of the heinous words he'd used in defining me and his despicable attitude towards me, I won't let myself believe that he's not who I want him to be.

As I type out my Dr's information, Ray's name pops up disrupting my texting.

"Hi Ray," I say picking up his call instantaneously.

"Hi, Kiddo. I didn't expect you to answer so quickly," he chuckles.

"Well, you caught me in the middle of a text."

"You young people and your texting. I can't be bothered with the thing. I wouldn't have this cell phone if you and your roommate didn't harass me into getting it. But enough about me. I'm calling to let you know I'm back and ready to have that discussion anytime you are".

I just blurt it out. "I'm pregnant." In the spur of the moment, I decide to come clean. After all, the situation surrounding my pregnancy has changed. I no longer need Ray to kill Christian, not yet anyway.

"What?"

"I'm, pregnant," I repeat, this time more slowly.

"How that's possible. I mean, I know about the birds and the bees, but I didn't think you had a beau since breaking up with that Jose fella."

"It's a long story, and I don't want to go into it over the phone. But, so you know I'm not with the father and Jose is not the father," I say, and there's a long pause. "Ray. I'm sorry I know you're disappointed in me," I sadly say.

"This isn't about disappointment or judgment. You're the one going through it, and I know it can't be easy so let me know what you need from me," he says just as the door opens, and Luke jogs in. Quickly I mute the phone as he locks the door and quietly jogs straight up to me.

"Going to shower," he mumbled, kissing me on the cheeks.

Unmuting the phone, I get back to Ray. "Um, Ray can we talk about this another time? I promise to tell you everything and thank you so much."

"Sure, call me soon. I have tons of questions," he says.

"I know you do," I say, breathing a sigh of relief that I've finally shared the news with him.

"Bye," he says. Ending the call, I switch screens to complete my text before putting the phone away to confront Luke.

The steam from his shower is seeping into his bedroom creating a wall of heat, and when I enter the room, I hit it full on. Fanning my face, I manage the obstacle course designed by his sweaty running clothes strewn on the floor to the bed. Sitting on the edge, I position myself, so he sees me first thing when the door opens.

Whistling and unsuspecting Luke swings open the bathroom door and is startled when he sees me. "Whoa," he gasps. "Hi, baby. Why didn't you join me?

He recovers quickly. So I got the reaction I wanted, but not the response. He tightens the towel around his waist and stepping back in front of the fogged up mirror Luke swipes his hand across it clearing a viewing spot.

"I've showered," I say dryly, trying not to tip my hand.

"Who was talking about showering," he says. Turning his face away from the clearing he'd carved out in the mirror Luke raises his eyebrows at me.

I can ignore his flirting, but ignoring his partially nude, damp well-honed body is a tougher task. It's too distracting, so I get up and start pacing.

When he's done, Luke touches me on the shoulder and my skin prickles. I know he's naked under that towel. "Excuse me," Luke says as he moves me out of his way so he can access his wardrobe.

"Why didn't you wake me up to go running?"

"You had a restless night and this morning you were sleeping so peacefully. I couldn't bring myself to do it."

He lets his towel drop to put on his boxer, and I have to avert my gaze because the sight of his half-aroused cock is so very tempting. "Still, you could've have tried," I say manufacturing something to say to get the lascivious thoughts out of my mind.

Finally clothed, Luke walks up to me with the hem of his t-shirt in his hand, and giving it a tug he adjusts it. "Why are you acting so strange?" he inquires.

"What do you mean?" I ask as I fidget with my hands.

"Don't do that, Anastasia. Playing coy doesn't suit you. You have something to say. Say it," he says running his fingers over his short damp hair.

"Oh. I'm Anastasia now; you must really be mad at me," I scoff.

"No, I'm not but maybe I should be?"

What the… I feel the dynamics shifting, he has a bone to pick with me.

"Did you sleep with your ex-boyfriend?" he asks taking the wind out of my sails, and I stare up at him in disbelief.

The answer is easy, because regardless of how frisky Christian and I got, I didn't sleep with him. The more difficult question is, why is Luke asking. Unbeknownst to him he's stepped on my fight.

"What kind of the question is that?" I ask, affronted that he could think so little of me.

"A legitimate one, considering that you'd all but admitted it," he says.

"I disagree. You asked if he came on to me, and I said yes. So for the record, I did not sleep with him. But the fact that you think I could've and then come directly here to do the same thing with you lets me know that you don't think very highly of me. And that's a problem." I pause. "I should go," I say dejectedly. But, as soon as, I turn away Luke grasps onto my elbow a la Christian.

"I'm sorry. I had to know," he says, "but the pathetic truth is, it wouldn't have mattered anyway," he whispers resigned to his emotional fate. A feeling I know well.

Gently, I push back on him, and Luke releases me. I pivot to face him. "I'm here aren't I," I say breathily. "When given the choice, I chose you."

"So he did proposition you."

"Luke, you know this, so why are you torturing yourself. You've said it doesn't matter," I say, and he gives me a half smile. But true to my female nature, I sometime expound to the virtue tit for tat. "Now it's my turn," I say and digging in my back pocket, I pull out a silk scarf unraveling it in front of him. "Who does this belong to?"

He doesn't falter. "Alison."

Gulping, I swallow the lump caught in my throat. "Alison," I say barely able to get the name out of my mouth. I have to confess, despite their history I'd not suspected her.

"Baby, don't…"

I interrupt him. "Don't baby me," I snarl jerking my shoulder away when he tries to touch me.

"Let me explain. I had no idea she was in town. She was in Seattle to meet with my boss and getting my address from one of my sisters she stopped by uninvited-"

I stop him. "Like me," I say.

"If you're particular, yes. But unlike you I sent her away."

"You were going after her weren't you? It's why you were so surprised when you open the door to find me on the other side." He's honest, and my head drops in defeat. "Ana." He calls my name causing me to bring it back up, but my eyes are empty. "I was trying to catch her to let her know about the scarf," he says, his eyes going to the silky fabric in my hand. He sounds earnest, and I want to believe him.

"I'm not as evolved as you are; it matters to me," I whimper.

"It wouldn't if you loved me in the same way," he says.

"Is the unfaithful test really going to be the barometer we use to measure our love," I say incredulously.

Gripping the scarf, Luke uses it to pull me to him, and he stares down at me. "No, this is." Letting the perfumed fabric fall away, he cups my face. Coaxing my lips open he slides his tongue inside my mouth. "Make love to me," he whispers against my lips.

XXXX

"I'm so sorry for being late," I say apologetically when Kate gets into the passenger seat of her own car.

"Last minute quickie," she teases as she buckles up.

"Something like that," I say putting the car into gear.

"I take it last night went well and this morning even better," she smirks.

"Yep."

"Thank you for picking me up. Elliot got called away at the last minute."

"What are you talking about, this is your car."

"Yeah, but I interrupted hot makeup sex, so I'm lucky you even answered your phone."

"You didn't exactly interrupt; it happened after your call."

"I know you didn't want to know. But I thought you'd be interested. Christian left right after you did."

"I called him this morning," I confess to her.

"And why?"

Taking my eyes off the road for a nanosecond, I glance at Kate. "I needed his insurance information."

"Okay, if that's your story," she says

"It's not a story it's the truth."

"You're making up reasons to be in contact with him. After last night, I thought you'd want to stay as far away from the man as possible," she says. "You're playing with fire, and you should know better. Christian Grey is not to be played with."

**Luke POV**

Opening the bedroom door, I check on Ana. She's in the fetal position on the bed, resting peacefully snuggled like a pea in a pod cloaked in the white hotel robe. She was exhausted after the drive from Seattle, so I made her go to bed. Quietly closing the door, I walk to the sofa and pull out my phone.

"Mom."

"Sweetheart," she sings.

"Hi," I say.

"I know that voice so tell me what's wrong," she says.

"I can't keep anything from you can I?" I say, chuckling nervously.

"Not, when you sound like you've lost your puppy or when you're 25 and the puppy is a girl."

"You got me," I say and leaning forward, I rest my elbows on my knees.

"So tell me. Is it Ana?" she asks.

"Yes," I say stretching my thumb and forefinger along my eyebrows. "But before we get to that, could you tell your daughters to stay out of my love life."

"My daughters and not your sisters." She sighs. "What's happened now?"

"They gave Alison my address, and she stopped by my place last night."

"I think I see where this is headed. Did Ana catch her there?

"Not exactly. As bad as that would've been, it would've been simpler."

"I'll talk to your sisters. Now tell me what has you so sad," she says softly in that motherly tone that makes you feel so vulnerable and small.

"Am I a fool for putting my heart on the line again?"

"You're never a fool when you let your heart love. But have you considered that maybe Ana's too young to appreciate your kind of love. I don't mean in the chronological sense, I mean in her life experience. You've had your time to develop into the man you are maybe she needs the time and space to do the same."

"Mom, if you're insinuating that I should leave her alone I can't. The way I love her I can't make sense of it," I say

She laughs sweetly. "The way I see it, you're not supposed to make sense of love. The moment it starts making sense you're no longer in love," she says.

"So you're giving me your seal of approval?"

"I didn't' think you were asking."

"I wasn't."

"My boy. I love Alison and I'm empathetic to what she went through and I appreciate the sacrifice she made for you, but I will never forgive her for breaking your heart. It's clear that you love Ana, I just hope she realizes what a precious gem she has in you."

"I'm the lucky one," I say, my voice is cracking and I can't help the uninvited tears that flood my eyes. "Mom, l gotta go," I say when I see her shadow.

**CPOV**

Eighty's Rock music, the stench of inferior beer, stadium peanuts, and bad cologne bombards my senses when Taylor and I walk into a bar that I can't believe exist in Seattle lest more the country. Disdain for the place emanating from me, I find my brother in the crowd of motley patrons. He's at the bar, grinning hysterically, knowing full well I'd hate the place. Still I'm impassive when I stalk towards him with Taylor sticking close to my side. As we walk the distance, all the women are ogling me, and I want to yell to the lot of them just a face.

Pleased with himself, Elliot smiles profusely as he stands up from his perch at the bar. He shakes Taylor's hand, before giving me his brotherly pat on the shoulder. "Hey, bro. Nice touch, no tie. You really tried hard I see," he smirks.

"Fuck you, Elliot," I shout over the dreadful music and take the empty stool next to him.

Coming to stand between us, Taylor rests a hand on Elliot's shoulder as he talks to me. Elliot is right, my staff prefers him to me; they only suffer me because I pay them handsomely while they'd gladly hang with him for free. "Sir, I'll be in the corner taking money from some of the good old boys, giving you two your privacy" he says and I watch him confidently walk to the game of darts taking place near the front of the bar.

Setting his beer down, Elliot gets the bartender's attention. "Taylor is too good for you," he says. "Another round." He waves to the bearded bartender.

"I know. It's why I pay him well," I say. "By the way, who told you I'd want the domestic shit you're drinking," I scowl.

"My turf, my drink," he says and on cue the bartender comes with our drinks setting the bottles down in front of us.

Frowning at the taste, I tilt the bottle to read the label and just as I'd suspected it's a domestic beer I haven't had since being able to afford to buy better. "This beer is foul."

"You know what Christian, you're a pretentious prick. Drink the damn beer and stop complaining," he says turning his bottle up and gulping his beer down.

"Why the fuck, am I in a place the devil wouldn't visit?" I say sardonically.

"Suck it up. I wanted to talk to you about Ana," he says

"And we couldn't have had the discussion at a more reputable establishment," I say fisting the modestly cold bottle tossing it back, welcoming the wretched taste over having this conversation with Elliot.

Ignoring me he goes directly to his point. "She has a crush on you. It could be love but at its core it's a crush," he says taking another swig of his beer.

"She called me this morning," I admit because he's digging for something. And in the end, he is the only person I can talk to about the situation. After months of hiding out, I'm tired of running. "You may be right, but here's the thing, this is not high school, and I'm not a fucking teenager," I snarl.

"Too late, you acted like one and fucked her without a condom."

"You're never going to let me forget are you?"

"It's not me that's not going to let you forget. It's the years of child support and college tuition that's going to be your constant reminder Prince Charming," he says, picking up his bottle and tipping it back.

I sigh audibly. "You're right, but there's nothing princely or charming about me," I growl.

"I don't know. The history between you two reads like a fairy tale," he says, calling the bartender and ordering nachos and onion rings for us.

"Onion rings, I guess you're not seeing Kate later."

"Nah, she went back home today with Ana."

"So Anastasia, stayed in Seattle last night? I thought she was meeting her boyfriend."

"I'm not sure, I just know she was picking Kate up."

"Interesting," I sigh and mindlessly I take a sip of my beer. "Tell me. What do you know about this so called boyfriend?" I say slamming my bottle back down to the bar.

"Not much. Kate has been pretty tight-lipped about him. To be honest, at dinner was the most I'd heard about the guy."

"You know, I almost had Taylor do a background check on him."

"And."

"My cowardliness stopped me. I'd have to come clean to him too, and I'm not ready. He's as smitten with Anastasia as mom." Picking up our beers, we make space on the surface of the bar for the bartender to set the baskets of greasy fried food down.

Picking up a nacho loaded with cheese, Elliot shoves it in his mouth. "There's nothing like a good nachos and cheese," he mumbles talking with his mouth full.

"I'll take your word for it."

"You're so pompous," he says picking up another one. "So when are you planning to tell mom and dad?"

"In about two weeks, when I've finalized this deal I'm working on."

"Mom's going to flip her shit."

"Don't remind me," I say, turning up the bottle to my mouth.

"What if-"

I raise my hand to him interrupting him. "Don't start with the **What If** bullshit. I'm not a teenager so mom and dad can't make me do anything."

"You're not a teenager, but she is."

"Trust me I know that. It's one of the reasons this is so fucked up. I'm having a kid with a fucking kid."

"I'm glad you brought it up. What are you going to do about your baby?"

I chug the too warm beer. "I know you like to dismiss it when I bring up Detroit. But it was real and the feelings from that time remain with me." Staring aimlessly at the top shelf alcohol as it is, I open up to my brother more than I have in a long time. "You know sometimes, I see her." I pause.

"Who," he asks.

"My birth mother. She's a constant reminder that no matter how much money I make or how far I rise up the ranks I'll never be enough. I've got nothing to offer a child Elliot. Sure I've got money, but I'm a shell. A child needs a parent with a heart at least this child gets one…I got none. I've got more money than I'll be able to spend in a lifetime, but I can't buy a heart." Taking his attention away from his beer and nachos, Elliot leans over and pats me on my shoulder. "Don't you dare feel sorry for me," I snare.

"Excuse me." I hear a gravelly female voice behind me, but by the time Elliot and I turn around Taylor is hauling the woman with big hair to the exit.

"One of your fans," Elliot chortles.

"Yeah, I guess," I chuckle, "at this point I couldn't do any worse."

"You're too hard on yourself. I may joke, but actually I think you'd make a good dad," he says.

"I'm not putting the child at risk, which is why I'm relying on you, mom, dad, and Mia to help Anastasia out."

"Oh yeah, I don't think that's going to go over well with mom."

"Too bad, it's my decision."

"What does Ana think?"

"She's not happy about it, but again it's my decision."

"Of course she's not happy, she wants you in her life."

"She'll get over it," I say, taking a sip of my beer.

"Hey," he says swiveling on his barstool to face to me. "Guess who I talked to the other day."

"Elliot, I don't have time for twenty questions so just tell me."

"Miranda."

"And who's Miranda?" I ask.

"You know, India's sister. She's working for one of my international clients and saw my name on a contract so she reached out to me. So do you think about India?"

"Nope." I take a sip of my beer. "I haven't thought about her until you'd just mentioned her name."

"What happened with you two anyway? You were inseparable and then she just disappeared."

"Simple, I dropped out of Harvard and she didn't."

"Okay, enough about that, let's get back to the here and now. Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. What's your plan?" he asks turning back to the bar.

"It's a holiday for fuckers like you," I say as Taylor shows up saving me from further torture.

"Sir, you wanted me to let you know when it was 7 pm."

"What happens at 7? You turn back into a frog?" Elliot jokes.

"No, it's when you turn into a Prince. Come on let's get out of here and have some real beer and real food," I say slamming 2 $100 bills on the bar before he can pay. "I'll show you how the other half lives."

**Luke's Pov**

Keeping my eyes trained on her, I reach my hand back placing the phone down on the tall, long table conveniently located behind the sofa. My eyes follow Ana as she comes to a stop directly in front of me. She's a vision in the white robe. A fallen angel maybe, considering the amount of flesh peeking through the fabric. But still she's angelic and radiant.

Sliding down the sofa slightly, my legs part allowing her to slip between them and resting my head back on the headrest of the sofa I stare up at her longingly. "How much did you hear?" I ask huskily as my hands snake under the robe grabbing the flesh at the back of her thighs.

Her flushed skin makes my cock twitch, but it's when she hikes up the robe that it instantaneously becomes hard. "Enough," she purrs and then my hand falls away when she raises her legs crawling up the sofa to straddle me.

My arms prostrate at my side, Ana cups my face positioning her hands so all of her fingers are at my nape except her thumbs. Rubbing small circles on my cheeks with the pads she murmurs, "no one has ever loved me enough to cry for me." Her voice is husky but filled with hurt for the precious little girl that yearned for it but never received unconditional love.

"Because they're fools," I whisper, pushing back her mane of thick brown hair so I can see her face. Then Ana leans down, planting butterfly kisses on each cheek and I blow out a puff of air.

Releasing my face, she leans back and starts unbuckling my belt. Closing my eyes, I let the back of my head melt into the headrest as I surrender to her. With her scent tickling my nose and the sound of Michael Boule singing, "I'm feeling good", filling the room, I revel at how lucky I am to have her back. Making quick work of the belt and button, Ana moves on to my zipper and I tilt my ass up assisting her with getting my pants and boxers down to my knees. And when she takes my throbbing cock in her hand, my eyes fly opens. Breathing hard, I watch as she sits up slightly and with her sex hovering inches from my cock she slowly sinks back down taking every delicious inch of me.

"Fuuuck," I cry out

Her head falls back, as she sheaths me to the hilt. Holding her down in place, I force her to feel me.

"Ugh," she gasps. "You're so deep this way," she moans as she brings her head back up.

Leaning backward, she anchors her hands on my thighs. Gripping her waist tighter, I lift her and tilting my head down I watch as my cock reappears and disappears as she slides up and down my shaft. Coming undone, she collapses on top of me and I quickly follow suit.

"I love you," I moan.

"I love you too," she says

"I think I need to eat," I mumble from underneath her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After debating, I convince Luke that I was okay with having sushi. I'd just have to stay away from the raw fish and stick with tempura.

"Keep the tip," Luke says to Flirty Fannie our waitress when we pass her on our way to the exit.

Standing on the side walk, Luke yanks my hand. "Yikes!" I yelp, as he pulls me across the street.

"Sorry, I wanted to make the light," he say apologetically once we're safely on the other side. "It's a nice night, so I thought we'd take a stroll through the park." He wraps his arm around my waist and I do the same to him. We then step on the grass taking the shortcut.

"Thank you for dinner."

"You're welcome, too bad you couldn't enjoy the sushi."

"Why, my tempura was yummy."

I remove my arm from his waist and adding the other arm I cross them in front of my chest so I can run my hands up and down them. "Are you cold?" Luke asks coming to a stop to examine me.

"No. I'm just running my hands along my arms out of habit."

"Are you being facetious?"

"No, I'm not. It is a habit. I have on a jacket and it's a mild night so I'm good. Really," I say reassuring him.

Surveying the park, Luke scopes out a picnic table close to us but out of the prying eyes of the people on the sidewalk. "Come on," he says searching for my hand.

Hopping up on the table, Luke opens his legs pulling in the middle and enveloping me in his arms. "Perfect," I say. That's the problem, everything with Luke feels perfect. Too perfect sometimes, like were playing roles. Right out of central casting, perfecting the parts of two people in love.

Abruptly, he holds up his hand and points upward. "Look." Gazing up in time I see the burst of light shrieking across the night sky.

"A shooting star," I say in awe. "It's magical. Funny, when I was littler, I use to think of this as God's way of getting an urgent message to earth."

"So what was the message?" he asks

"I was 6," I giggle. "Forming the hypothesis was enough, imagining an actual message was a step too far."

He chuckles and rests his chin on the top of my head. "Why did you choose literature?"

"Reading was a way for me to escape. Then as I got older, I became enthralled with the idea of being loved and being in love. And at the time falling in love felt safer on the pages." I say burying the back of my head on his chest.

He moves his chin and angling his head down he tries to look in my face. "I hope I've changed your mind and you find living it is better than reading about it?"

"Yes, you have," I say, nudging him so he can let me out of his Snuggie prison so I can give him a kiss. Coming face to face with him gives me an idea and immediately I start executing my plan.

Luke clamps down on my hand. "What are you doing?"

"If you don't know, ask your erection," I say coquettishly as I remove his hand and continue with his zipper.

"Babe, we're in public," he says anxiously

"True. We're in a public park but look around there's no public here," I retort. "Plus it's dark, and I can do it without being detected. And considering the tent in your pants, I doubt it will take me a long time," I say smirking.

"You're incredulous and very brazen." he says.

"Yes, and you love it."

Reaching down, Luke cups my face lifting it up to meet his and he covers my mouth as I ease down his zipper. "Yes I do," he whispers against my lips and his hands fall away.

Trembling, I fish in his pants. Suddenly my confidence wanes, but freeing his erection and the pulsating veins helps me recover it. Luke struggles to stifle his groans, as I slide my hand up and down his shaft.

Pre-cum forms at the tip and inconspicuously I tilt my head down dragging my tongue over it lapping up every bit before I slide his cock in my mouth.

"Whoa, baby take it easy on me. Remember we're in a public and I can't react the way I want," he says, panting.

His cock encased in my mouth, the tip hitting me at the back of my throat I greedily suck making him jerk. "Damn. Yes, baby," he hisses, as he weaves his hands in my hair. Sucking harder, my jaws hollow as the taste of him seeps into my mouth fueling my libido. Then frenetically my head bobs up and down as my mouth takes him from the root to the tip.

Luke clenches his teeth,"Mathafuck," he curses when his orgasm hits him. Fisting in my hair, Luke rides out his orgasm as his cum fills my mouth, and I swallow every drop. "Shit, you are amazing," he says.

Holding up my head I use the back of my hand to wipe my mouth. "You're pretty amazing too," I whisper, and quickly we put Humpty Dumpty back together again.

Jumping down from the table to his feet, Luke entwines his fingers with mine pulling me to him and taking me in a deep kiss. "Come on let's get out of here before a cop pops up out of the bushes," he teases as he pulls back from the kiss. Tugging on my hand, we race across the park laughing out loud like school kids that have just gotten away something sinister.

Rejoining civilization, Luke releases my hand so I can hug his forearm. "This is nice," I say.

"It is. I'm looking forward to our week together," he says, as we leisurely stroll down the street, commenting on storefronts and restaurants as we go.

"So have you ever had a three-way," I ask seemingly out of the blue, but it has been on my mind.

His steps skip. "Where did that come from?" Luke ask incredulously.

"You've talked about exploring our sexual limits," I get out, and abruptly Luke brings us to a halt. Peeling my arms from his, he throws up his hand.

Taxi." I giggle at him seeing that we're only three blocks from the hotel.

Pulling out of me, Luke rolls over to his side of the bed. "Okay, now I'm ready to delve into your question," he says trying to catch his breath.

Wiping my thighs, I toss the now dirty cloth to the floor and go to him resting my face on his chest that is still dripping with sweat from our love making.

"So, now you're ready?" I giggle.

"Yes. But, first I need to know if you're suggesting that we participate in one?" He asks, and I feel his stomach muscles tense.

"That's not my inference, I'm just asking. This whole sex thing is new to me and I thought you'd be open to having the discussion," I say shyly suddenly embarrassed but determined to have the conversation."

"I'm open to trying anything, but I am not sharing you with another man or woman for that matter."

"I'm sorry for even bringing it up," I say dejectedly and start to get up, but Luke pulls me back down to him.

"Don't go," he says sweetly. "Tell me what's on your mind. Sorry for over reacting, I'm behaving like a jerk."

In spite of the rocky start, we had a frank discussion on the topic. Luke admitted to multiple encounters of the three-way kind. None with Alison, all prior to her while he in was still in high school. The encounters were all with college age girls. But in the end the conversation comes to an anti-climactic conclusion as it quietly dies, and we fall into a deep slumber.

**Valentine's Day -Sat**

"Happy Valentines' day," Luke huffs as he surges past me.

Pounding the pavement, I pick up my pace, running at top speed to catch up to him.

"Morning Ana," Paul says, reminding me I'm at work and should stop stewing over losing to Luke yet again.

"Oh, hi Paul."

"What's wrong you're moving slowly this morning?"

"A tough running morning."

"I see. I didn't know you were working today," he says.

"I'm taking the week off, so I switched."

"A week huh?" he sighs. "Big plans for Valentine's Day?"

"Yep, something like that," I say smiling because for the first time I have a real love to celebrate the day with and not a pretend one like Jose.

"That's good."

My pocket vibrates. "Excuse me, Paul," I say hurrying to the storeroom to read Luke's text in private. After our romantic breakfast, he's due for something dirty.

**Happy Valentine's Day to the mother of my child- CG**

Sighing in disbelief, I press the phone to my chest trying to decide one if it's real, and two should I respond?

**The same to the father of my child- AS**, I type out and closing my eyes I hit send. Excitingly I wait for his response. His text was sweet, and deserving of a response so I'm not going against my edict, I'm being courteous, I try to convince myself.

**Touché, checking the almanac for the next blue moon-CG**

Laughing quietly, I stare at the screen. Why can't he be this playful all the time? As I dreamily stare at his message, a text from Luke pops up.

**Change plan meet here: 5AL Rast Lane- Luke. **After Luke's, the texts just start rolling in.

**Happy V. Day- Ian**

**Be my Valentine- Copper**

**Hope U &amp; Luke Happy Val. D- Jazz**

Grinning, I tuck the phone back in my pocket and will follow up with them later.

"Hi Ana, there you are," Mrs. Clayton says when I walk from the storeroom with nothing in my hands and I think she's about to call me out on it but she doesn't. Instead, she sends me home early because of the slow store traffic.

Pulling up behind Luke's Cherokee, I stare at the house wondering whose the owner.

Barreling out the front door Luke races to my car, opening the door before the Beetle comes to a complete stop. "Hi baby," he says grinning from ear to ear.

"Hi," I say speculatively, but before I can get in another word he crashes his lips to mine shutting me up with a kiss. Then closing the door, he grabs my hand.

Essentially he drags me to the house. "I have something to show you," he says enthusiastically peeking my curiosity even more.

"Is this your friend's house?"

"No. It'll become clearer soon."

On the outside, the house is a modest ranch, but inside it's far more spectacular and getting a glance through the glass door, I see the appeal. The back yard is huge and well appointed.

"This is nice," I say, as my eyes skip from focal point to focal point.

"Let's go out back," he says taking my hand. Hauling me through the open glass door, we come to a stop on the stone patio just as a golden hairball rushes from around the corner nearly knocking us over.

"Benji," I yelp, as I come to the ground to hug my first baby. Satisfied with himself, Luke gets down on his knees joining in on the celebration. "How?" I look up at him.

"Initially I'd call to ask about Hawaii, but since you couldn't go this week, we worked out a plan B. Just so happened the family was going to be in Portland and voila here we are. They wanted to go to Seattle for the weekend, so we're house sitting Benji and the house."

"So this is their vacation home," I ask as I shag Benji's neck.

"No, it's a rental."

"Oh," I say. "Hey boy, you're so handsome," I coo, "and your coat is so soft." And when I rub his neck I feel a delicate metal chain around it. "What is this?" I ask Luke.

"Take it off," he says.

The necklace in my hand I come to my feet, and I inspect it. "This is gorgeous."

"It's a locket," he says, taking the jewelry out of my hand and opening the heart shape pendant. "I've gone ahead and added the photo of your first sonogram to one side, and once the baby is born, you can add that picture to the other side."

Standing on my tippy toes, I wrap my arms around his neck. "Thank you, I love it. You're so thoughtful and sweet," I whisper in his ear and then untangling my arms I come back down to my feet.

"I thought I would go simple this time. Because I know you're not a fan of big sweeping gestures," he says. Turning me to my front, Luke sweeps my hair to one side so he can fasten the locket around my neck. "Happy Valentine's day baby," he whispers placing a soft kiss on the exposed skin of my neck and then I feel Benji weaving through our legs.

"I think someone feels left out," I say giggling.

"I think so too."

Turning to face him, I rest a finger on his lips. "Happy Valentine's Day to you too," I say.

"I know you just got home, but do you feel like taking him for a walk?"

"Are you kidding me?" I say, and I'm almost giddy.

After a nice walk through the neighborhood, we get Benji fed and settled.

"Will it be hard to say goodbye this time?" Luke asks as we walk to the sofa.

"No. This time with him is a gift. You can't be sad about a gift."

"Can you believe it," he says, flopping down on the sofa "we've managed to tire a dog out." he says.

"Well, he's made us tired too. I'd forgotten how rambunctious he can be."

"So for Valentine's day I thought we'd rough it for dinner," he says.

"Meaning what?"

"We can cook," he says.

"Well, that is roughing it, seeing that you can't cook at all, and I'm far from an expert," I say.

"Tell you what, I'll let you ponder it," he says reaching a hand across the sofa grabbing my leg and dragging me to him. "In the meantime," he says lasciviously tugging at the hem of my t-shirt. "I have some ideas of my own," he says, and he starts rolling. "Hold up your arms," he instructs pulling the shirt over them, and then my head tossing it behind him. "A bra," he smirks, "not what I'd expected, but I can get rid of it quickly enough." His hand reaches behind me, and deftly he unfastens my bra sliding it down my arms throwing it to the floor. Putting, his hand on my spine, Luke presses me forward pushing my breast into his mouth.

"I thought you were going to massage my feet," I tease in between my moans.

"Later," he murmurs against my skin, and gently he bites down on a nipple before releasing it. "Right now I'm busy," he rasps as he cups both breasts and squeeze them.

Resting my hand on his shoulders, my head rolls back. "Ah, that feels good," I whisper. "I'm so wet," I moan.

He lifts his head slightly. "Trust me I've got plans for later." His strong hand presses on my back more firmly forcing my breasts deeper into his mouth.

After his feasting as he called it, Luke keeps his end of the bargain, and I get my foot massage and a nap.

When I woke up, we scoured the cupboards and settled on anchovy pasta and a salad for dinner.

"Come away with me," comes on iTunes, as Luke takes the s'more from his makeshift skewer. "Open," he orders me so he can put a piece of the sweet treat in my mouth. This is my first time having the campfire staple.

"Mm, it's good but sweet," I mumble, as I demurely cover my mouth trying to conceal the food in it as I chew.

Chewing the other half of the desert, Luke sets his stick aside before he takes care of mine. "Enough," he moans dragging me down to the bed we've built in front of the fireplace on the floor.

"I love the sound of a crackling fire," I say, wiggling to get comfortable beneath him.

Hovering over me, using one hand Luke undoes the sash on my robe. "So do I," he says huskily, pushing the fabric back revealing my naked skin. "You're so beautiful," he whispers running his hand down my sternum. Pressing down on his arm, Luke brings his face in tighter kissing me passionately. "And you smell good too," he says softly.

"So do you," I whisper and reaching up with my hand I run my fingers along his strong jawline. "I'm sorry, I couldn't go to Hawaii with you this week," I pant.

A lustful grin crosses his face. "Who needs Hawaii, when I've got you," he says as he lowers his body down to me, his erection hitting my thighs nudging my legs open. "This is the only place I wanna be," Luke grunts as he slides into me.

Resting on his elbows at my head, he grinds down going harder and deeper hitting all the spots aching to feel him. "Yes," I gasp.

"Fucking eh, fu-ck yea-you all-night," Luke groans incoherently as I dig my fingernails into his back, and he takes me higher and higher, and he follows me off the cliff.

Burying his head in my pillow, Luke comes down from his high and pulls out of me. Laying on his back, he covers his eyes with his forearm. "Last week was hell without you," he says as he tries to regulate his breathing.

"I felt the same way, I didn't think you'd ever talk to me again," I say and extending his arm he snakes it under me pulling me to him and I snuggle in that special crook of his arm with my name on it.

"I'm sorry for being so nasty.

"I deserved it."

"No, you deserved for me to hear you out."

"I'm so sorry, I hurt you," I sniff and he squeezes my shoulders tightly.

"I know, and I also know you won't do it again," he says as Benji runs up lodging himself on the blanket between us. Frantically, Luke searches for his pants while I struggle to get my robe closed. Our reaction is comical. You'd think a toddler had just interrupted, instead of a mutt who can't recognize body parts.

"Well, I think we have company for the night," I laugh, as I tighten the sash around the robe.

Luke sits up on his elbow to talk to me over Benji. "I love you," he says

"I love you too."

"Dinner was great," he says.

"You helped."

Then, just as he leans over to give me a kiss Benji pops his head up getting in the middle of us and rewarding me with a sloppy kiss of his own all over my face.

**Monday**

Stuffing my missing thumb drive in my back pack, I yell to Kate in the kitchen. "I'm leaving."

"Okay," she says as she comes through the door and straight up to me. "Hey, slow down on the sex. You're walking like a cowboy who just got off his horse," she chuckles.

"Bye," I yelp, yanking the front door open and making a hasty exit.

"Don't you and Luke forget about Thursday," she screams after me.

Anxious to see him, I hurriedly unlock the door to the suite. As soon as, I enter a triumphant looking Luke rushes up to me holding what appears to be an essay in his hand.

Unable to contain his glee, he shoves it in my hand. "Hi," he beams giving me a kiss on the cheeks.

"What's this?"

"Read it."

He helps me with my backpack and stepping further into the room I start rifling through the sheets. Containing my freak out, I calmly turn to him. "This is my report on Christian Grey," I say as the papers shake in my hands.

"Yes it is and let me explain. In my defense, this was a purely a selfish endeavor and has nothing to do with your abilities."

"But Luke I asked you not to interfere," I protest, and he steps closer, touching me on my arm.

"As I was about to say, I'm trying to carve out; as much time as, possible with you and I know this essay has been the bane of your existence. So with nothing but time on my hand I worked on it for you. With my friend's help, it was easy to write but I'm sure it's not to your specificity, so I expect you to make changes, but at least you have a framework."

I accept his explanation and decide to let it drop as not to bring attention to my discomfort. "Thank you," I say.

"You're welcome," he says taking the report out of my hands. "I have another surprise for you. I've gone ahead and ordered dinner so we can get to the big reveal."

Arriving at my surprise, a BDSM club, Luke shifts in his seat so he can face at me. "Since you're vaguely familiar with BDSM, I guess the surprise is on me," he says shaking his head in disbelief.

"You'd be surprised what you can learn on the streets and foster care, but my knowledge is very vague," I reiterate, "I've never been to a club."

"Well, if you become uncomfortable, we can leave at any time. Since, I've taken the three-way off the table, I wanted to give you other options. Introduce you to a darker, grittier sex scene and maybe you can pick up some kinkier ideas."

"Luke. Our sex life is already perfect. It doesn't need spicing up. I don't want you to think I'm not fulfilled."

"Baby, when your girlfriends come to you about a three way, Houston you have a problem," he says sardonically. "Luckily, I'm man enough to admit that something is missing and man enough to do something about it. Hence the BDSM club."

"Then I'm game to see what the big deal is."

"Since this is a friend's club, I'm more than vaguely familiar with the lifestyle, and I'll admit it's not for me, but this trip is about you and what you want. See what's out there and make an informed decision."

"You're a thoughtful boyfriend."

"I'm also a selfish one," he says wrinkling his brows at me. "I benefit too. The age limit is 22 so my friend is doing me a favor letting you in for the night. Ready?"

Chuckling, Luke puts the keys on the counter. "So tell me what you really think," he teases because I've been throwing shade at the BDSM club since we'd gotten in the car.

"You were right, I'm not ready. The kinkier stuff is more than my little heart can handle."

"So was there anything you liked?" he asks as we walk into the sitting room.

"A lot actually, it's more about what I did not like. For example, the fisting, eyes down and spanking with the heavier implements. A big no. "What about you?" I ask.

"I'm with you. A lot of it I can do without. I'm more intrigued by the subtle parts of the Sub/Dom relationship in BDSM, so I was hoping we could role play."

"What did you have in mind?"

"For the remainder of the week, when we're in here, you'd be naked at all times and available to me whenever I wanted to have you," he says.

I snort. "That's not very original, you can already have me anytime you want."

"Maybe, but you don't walk around naked. And I don't feed you," he says, and I look at him speculatively.

"Okay, so do I call you sir?" He thinks about it.

"Yes."

"Keep my eyes downcast?"

"No," he responds immediately, "definitely not. I'm afraid I'd miss something. I like looking into your eyes too much."

"When do we start?"

"Now," he says sternly and without hesitating, I scramble to the bedroom to get into character.

Quickly, I jump in the shower to clean the stench of the club off my skin and to get into the right mindset for our role play. Timidly, I walk out of the bedroom, just when Steven Tyler is singing I don't want to miss a thing. Unexpectedly, I'm self-conscious about my tiny bump and strategically I put my hands in front of me to block it.

Walking up to me, Luke moves my hands. "Don't hide from me," he whispers. "Your baby bump makes your body just that more beautiful," he whispers, and he leads me to the sofa. "You've had a long day. Have a seat and put your feet up. We'll take it easy tonight."

"Thank you," I say softly, knowing full well it's a lie. The bulge in his pants tells me so. Still, I get in a comfortable position on the sofa and straightaway Luke approaches coming to a stand at my head.

"Turn your head so you can see me," he orders and when I shift towards him, he unzips his pants freeing his erection. "This is payback for the park," he says huskily as he strokes his shaft. Then he cups the back of my head easing my mouth down on him. "Now I'm going to do what I couldn't that night, fuck your mouth." As he pushes me deeper on his erection, I almost gag when it hits the back of my throat, but I relax my muscles accepting him. All of him.

Extracting his, now flaccid cock from my mouth Luke tucks it back into his pants and zips up. "I'm hungry," he says. "Do you want anything?"

"No, thanks," I say, wiping my mouth.

When he comes back peeling a banana, the most phallic fruit there is, he makes it clear what he's ravenous for. Sitting on the sofa at my feet, Luke places one of my legs over the headrest of the sofa and hustles between my legs to get closer to my sex. The banana ensconced in his hand; he gives me a wicked grin. My eyes glued to him; I watch with bemusement and heated excitement as he parts my folds and rubs the tip of the banana along my wetness.

Holding my gaze, he then sticks the banana in his mouth. "Who needs peanut butter, when I have you," he smirks, and I try to contain my breathing. Enjoying himself, Luke repeats the act over and over plundering my sex with the banana and then taking a bite from the fruit until it's all gone.

Then standing up on his knees, between my legs he unzips his pants and with his boxers he pulls them down before lowering himself on top of me driving his erection into me taking me hard."

"Ugh," I moan

"Sorry, I forget how tight you still are," he says pausing to give me time to acclimate.

Then rolling his hips he goes slowly. "Yes," I murmur, begging.

Bracing his elbows on either side of my head, Luke picks up the pace thrusting harder and faster sending my whole body upward. I can feel the sofa move as he pumps into me over and over taking us both to the edge of the cliff. Finally we fall over, and Luke collapses on top of me, wherein I wrap my legs and arms around him.

**Tuesday**

Standing in front of the glass enclosure I scrutinize the document, committing it to memory. My belly flip flops seeing his name on documents associated with my baby and me. I'm pitiful, latching onto any crumb he throws my way. I need to get it through my thick skull; he's no longer the unidentified Christian I'd locked away in a box. He has a name, Christian Grey, the enigma I can't get close enough to solve.

And I just as I'm giving myself the pep talk, I text him. I need a twelve step program.

**Thank you**, I hit send and wait for his response. But it doesn't come in the time it takes for me to walk back to Luke, so I put the phone away to wait for my name to be called.

"Thank you, for coming with me," I say stopping at the front desk to pick up my prescription and the card for my next appointment.

"Thank you for letting me," Luke says as we walk to the elevator.

"It was nice having a man with me for those judgmental eyes to feast upon."

"Are you kidding me, it was my pleasure. Being mistaken for daddy made my day," he says tilting his head down and giving me a kiss on the forehead. "So where do you want to eat. Somewhere around here or back at the hotel?"

"I have a better idea. Come with me," I say excitedly. Hyped up, I grab his hand yanking on him nearly dragging him out of the medical building.

Once on the sidewalk, Luke removes his hand from mine and shoves it in my back pocket while I wrap my arms around his waist. In position, we start our trek down the street.

"How far is this place?" he whines

"Stop complaining, we're close," I chuckle.

"I should have driven. You said it was around the corner."

"Stop whining, we're here," I say, bringing us to a stop in front of the storefront.

"Bassinet, huh?"

"Yes. Don't let the name fool you, it carries so much more." I school him as he opens the door for me.

As soon as, I enter the store the owner, a middle age round woman with curly red hair greets me taking me directly to the crib I've been admiring.

"It's marked down," she tells me.

"Good to know," I say and staring back at Luke I try to read his expression.

"It's nice, but baby don't you think a crib is too big?"

"Oops, I'm sorry, I didn't realize he was with you," the owner says to me before extending her hand to Luke and like everyone else this morning she confuses him with being the father. He's used to it by now, so I don't bother correcting her. "Well, I'll go and let you two talk about it some more."

We give her a curt smile and wait for her to disappear before we continue with our discussion. Luke talks and I pout like a brat. Wrapping me up, he pulls me to him. "I'm sorry, I've ruined your moment. You love it, so let's get it."

"I know it makes sense to get a bassinet now and a crib later when I move to Boston, but this crib is speaking to me," I sniff as I run my hand along the rail.

"Then it's solved, we're getting it today."

The crib paid for; I leave the store a happy camper. And to show Luke my appreciation, I let him select the lunch spot, and I agree to watch Scarface with him. Just so happen there's a cult classic film festival going on across the street.

"Love Story tomorrow," I screech, as I rush to the bedroom when we enter the suite. Promptly I disrobe and assume my submissive role. When I enter the front space, I pick up the essay Luke wrote for me and a marker on my way to the couch to do some editing.

Luke eyes me speculatively as I sit down on the sofa. "Really," he smirks.

"Yes," I say defiantly, and laying back against the armrest with the essay and marker in hand I start reading.

"Well, I'll just have to do this alone," he says sarcastically as he shifts on the sofa.

About 30 minutes later, I lower the paper to peek at him. "Enjoying yourself, I know I am," I say.

"You know I am," he grunts as he stretches my folds. "But as much fun as I'm having exploring your sex, I think it's your turn," he says and reaching up he snatches the report and marker from my hands hurling them across the room. "Touch yourself," he orders.

Then grabbing my one hand he positions it over my sex and by his urging I plunge my finger into my wetness. "Ah," I moan.

"Can you make yourself come?" he rasps.

"I don't know," I say breathily.

He positions his face right in front of my sex. "Well let's see," he says.

Enraptured by the pleasure I'm feeling at my own hands, I rub my clit feverishly between my fingers forgetting that I have a captured audience of one. "Ah yes," I moan, and my head lolls back as I continue to furiously massage my clitoris.

"Fuck, you're turning me on," Luke groans and I bring my head forward to stare into his heated gaze.

I stop stimulating myself, to stick a finger in my core, and at the same time Luke plunges his finger in me too. "Ugh," I cry out and my back arches off the sofa.

Pulling back his finger, Luke hovers over me and rubs it over my lips coloring them with my juices. And then with his tongue he licks it off. "Yum," he groans, "you taste good."

"You've done a very good job; now it's my turn," he whispers against my lips, and he lines his erection with my entrance. "This is what's going to happen. I'm going to take you here and then I'm going to take you to bed and fuck you all night."

**Thursday**

Running at a leisurely pace, we cast glances at each other. "Thank you for waiting up for me last night," I huff

"Sure. I'm just glad you got those girls situated," he pants.

"Too bad, they're now caught up in the foster care system."

"At least you've done your part."

"I know, I just wish I could've done more. It's a sad reminder that there's still so much ugly out there," I say and out the corner of my eye I see him gearing up to take off.

"Race you," he says and he flies past me.

Today was the first morning I beat Luke, even after his fast start I caught up with him and dusted him. So as my reward he performed oral sex on me. I haven't decided yet if the reward was for him or me.

In as much as, we are looking forward to partying with Kate and her latest conquest, we put on a Karaoke contest to help get us in the dancing mood. And of course, he won and, of course, I had to reciprocate.

Then at dinner, Luke got his first chance at feeding me, as I sat naked at his feet. It was an eye-opening experience, but not one I'd repeat. Picking up on my discomfort, Luke wrapped me up in my robe and just held me. Once I'd settled, we retreated to separate rooms to take care of emails and other private matters, before it time to head out.

"I'm surprised you guys came out with me," Kate says when Bobby goes to the restroom.

Lifting his glass to his mouth Luke takes a sip of his drink. "We're not staying at the apartment, so I feel safe," he says deadpan and Kate rolls her eyes at him. She takes a sip of her drink and knowing her, it's probably to keep from pummeling him.

Switching to his other side, I pretend to step between them. "No fighting boys and girls," I say and Luke lasso's me with his arm pulling me to his chest kissing me on the top of my head.

Then Kate leans in, so her mouth is right at my ear. "What do you think of Bobby?" she whispers.

"He's cute," I say shrugging my shoulders.

Bopping, she does the worm. "Maybe, but I'm already getting bored with him," she says moving her head to the music.

"Surprise, surprise," I smirk.

"Be quiet," she says letting her eyes roam my body. "Jeans," she frowns. "I can tell you dressed yourself," she yells.

"I like her in jeans," Luke chimes in.

"What's new? You'd think she looked good in a sack," Kate says, setting her drink on the bar to dance her way to Bobby as he approaches.

She throws her arms around his neck when he closes the distance. "Come on let's dance," she says.

Tilting his head down, Luke gives me another peck. "Do you want to dance?" he asks.

Shifting I wrap him up. "No. I want to stay right here," I say loudly. Then releasing him I face the front. Resting my back on him, I smile at Kate and Bobby as they shake a grove a thing.

Just as I was really enjoying the night, I get an unwanted visitor. Nick wobbles up to me and for a moment I could swear the crowd parted. "Ana," he slurs as he invades my personal space. Flinching, I press back into Luke. Infuriated by how close Nick is to me, he slams his drink to the bar and moves me behind him.

"Who the fuck are you?" Nick, snarls. Swaying he point his finger in Luke's chest. "Never mind I already tapped that ass," Nick burps and I gasp unbelieving my ears. But before I can react, Luke hauls his arm back landing a punch that knocks Nick to the floor.

Fuming, he hovers over him. "I'm her boyfriend motherfucker," he booms as the crowd starts to gather.

Hearing the murmur of the crowd, Kate and Bobby rush over, but by the time they reach us I'm escorting Luke out the bar."

"What happened?" Kate asks.

"Follow us out," I say and once outside I give her the lowdown.

"Asshole," she barks. "I'll keep you updated. Take him home."

"Thank you," I say turning my attention back to Luke.

"You know, I didn't sleep with him right?" I do a reality check.

He sighs. "Fuck yeah, baby I know you didn't." Hooking his arm around my waist he pulls me to him. "I'm not mad at you. He's the fucker that groped you isn't he?"

"Yes," I confess.

"I could tell by the way you reacted to him." Moving his arm from my waist, he drapes it over my shoulders. "Let's get out of here." We start walking to the car, and I pause when I see Jose, who stares at me like I'm invincible.

"Who's that?" Luke inquires.

"Jose."

"Great," he sighs, "why the fuck not?" He removes his arm from my shoulders so he can throw both arms up in exasperation. "I should be grateful, at least he's an ex I can see in the flesh."

At the hotel, I fumble with getting the suite key in the slot. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, let me have it." Handing him the key card, I step back and I feel very inept when Luke gets the door unlock on the first try.

As soon as, we step inside the suite my phone beeps.

**Thot U want 2 know no harm no foul his friends took a drunk, Nick home**

"Kate texted, Nick's friends took care of him, and she doubts he will go to the police."

"I wouldn't give a fuck if he did. Two things I'm sorry for. One, I didn't kill him and two, he ruined the night for you," Luke says.

"Ruined. My night's not ruined; I got to come home with the sexiest boy at the bar."

A devilish grin takes over his face and hooking a finger in a loop on my jeans he jerks to me his chest. "So, just how lucky are you?" he rasps.

The deviousness in me that's been lurking all week creeps to surface in full view. "Wait here and I'll show you," I say seductively.

"If that blush on your face is any indication, I'm in for a treat," he smiles against my lips, before letting me go.

Ridding myself of all my clothes and shoes, I pick up the row of condoms and the bottle of lube from the bathroom counter before I head back out to rejoin him.

Smirking when he sees me, Luke stands and stalks up to me. "Cocky, I'd say." He plucks the row from my hand and picking off one condom he tosses the rest behind me. "I think one will do for the night. Assume the position," he commands.

Sashaying, I continue to the sofa and stopping at the armrest I spread my legs before bending over. My head peeking through the space between my thighs, I can see his massive erection and all the hair surrounding it as he walks up behind me. Crazy I know, but I'm panicked he won't fit, alas, all concerns ebb when Luke comes to a stand next to me and runs his hand up my thighs grazing my wetness. "Ah," I simper. Letting his hand fall away, Luke moves slightly, so he's standing in my line of sight.

"Look at me," he demands and he rips into the foil packet.

Rotating my head, I salivate as Luke rolls the condom down his fully erect cock and then rubs it down with the lube.

His hand around his base, Luke steps in closer to me. My lips can almost touch it. "You want this?" he growls.

"Yes, please," I whimper.

Shaking it at me he teases me with it. "I don't know; I think I should spank you first?"

I moan. "Yes, please," I repeat myself.

Stepping backward, he positions himself behind me and holding his hand up, Luke lands six quick slaps on each cheek. It smarts, but the slight discomfort is worth it. His front pressed against my back; Luke sends shivers all over my skin as he starts at the nape of my neck running his hand down the length of the plain of my spine. Ending at the small of my back, he leans down to whisper in my ear.

"You want me to take you in the ass?" he asks and every muscle at the bottom of my stomach clenches.

"Yes, please," I say, repeating the only two words I can string together of late. Snatching the lube from the sofa table, Luke loads the cool gel on my behind and my reaction is counter-intuitive to common wisdom; the coldness enflames my skin increasing my arousal tenfold. Finished making a meal out of rubbing the gel all over my buttocks, including my crevice Luke leans over me; his latex encased erection hitting my thighs.

Breathing hard he whispers in my ear. "Are you, ready?"

"Yes," I moan varying up my response.

He lines up his erection with my entrance back there and then he encircles his arm around my waist bringing me up slightly. "I want you to take me," he says, and gently pressing his palm on my belly he eases me back on his erection.

His cock breaches my tight entrance, and I cry out. "Oh, my Gawd Luke, I don't know if I can," I whimper.

He licks the shell of my ear. "Relax, baby," he whispers, "we'll take it slow," he reassures me and I relax my muscles allowing him to work his way in the tiny opening as I slowly push back on him. My muscles clench and I grip his cock sheathing him to the hilt. "Oh fuck me," Luke growls, and I moan from a combination of pure ecstasy and measured pain.

Stilling he gives me time to acclimate and I extend my arms up bring them backward so I can grip the back of his neck the best I can. Luke's hand then slides down my stomach to my core where he starts stimulating my sex. Plunging his finger in my wetness and furiously rubbing my nub between his fingers he brings me to my orgasm, at the same he empties himself into me.

I flinch when he pulls out of me, and Luke wraps me up in his arms before he even removes his condom. Releasing me, he rolls down the latex and discarding it Luke swoops me up carrying me to the sofa. And even with me in his arm, he easily sits. As soon as, I get comfortable against his chest, his phone beeps. "It could be important," he says moving me off his lap next to him.

Reaching behind him, he picks up the intruder. "T," he answers as he rushes to the bedroom for privacy.

**Friday**

Luke's handsome face is the first thing I see when my eyes flutter open.

"Morning," he says, lifting his hand pushing the hair back from my face. "Your tea is on the bedside table."

"Morning," I croak as I try to get the sleep out of my voice. "Thank you. I'm going to miss my morning tea in bed."

"And I'm going to miss my running buddy." Putting his hands at my head, he leans down giving me a peck on the forehead. "I want you to get up and meet me out front," he whispers and the edge of the bed dips when he stands up.

Holding the sheet at my chest, I sit up. "I hate that you have to leave today. We're supposed to have one more day," I whine, and another yawn escapes me.

His lips curling up into a smile. "I'm sorry too, but it's an emergency. You have five minutes," he says trying to sound stern, but he can't resist giving me a wink before leaving the room.

Throwing the sheet back, I stagger out of bed searching for something quick to dress in. Finally dressed, I try to make sense out of my hair and my phone beeps distracting me. Stepping to the bedside table, I pick it up.

"Anything interesting?" Luke asks as he comes up behind me.

"Strangely yes," I reply turning to face him.

"What?

"Damien Stark," I say

"Damien Stark?" he asks incredulously, "and why would one of the most eligible bachelors in the country be texting my girlfriend?

"Jealous?" I'm joking, but his expression is serious.

"The better question is, should I be?"

"No, he's in love."

"So why is he texting you?"

"His fiancé can't make the Bruno Mars concert."

"Am I missing something here?"

"Oh, I forgot we were broken up when I interviewed him. Trust me his interest in me is purely platonic. He was the one to encourage me to call you.

"I see," he says.

"So do you mind if I go?"

"Ana I may not like it, but I don't have the right to prevent you from doing anything you want. You're my girlfriend, not chattel."

"I love you; you know that."

I love you too," he says grabbing my hand walking me out of the bedroom.

"You set up breakfast?" I say when I see bowls and silverware on the small table. It's the first time we've used it all week.

"Not exactly, I didn't' have time for a big breakfast so, it' only yogurt, granola, blueberry with a drizzle of honey," he says matter a factly.

"Mm, my favorite."

"I know," he smirks as he pulls back the chair for me.

Soon as, he takes his seat Luke stretches his arms across the small table reaching for my hands. Holding them he stares at me intently.

"I'm not going to prolong this. It's not how I'd planned it, but that's the way it is with us. I love the craziness that defines our relationship. Your clumsiness is endearing. I love the way you choreograph your life to music, and how you adore crappy rap songs and lip-sync to them so enthusiastically. I love that you're wickedly smart and sexy at the same time. I love that you feel with you the whole body, even if it's at my expense. I love you for who are and for the woman you are going to be," he says, and tears are flowing down my cheeks.

"Love is patient," he says softly.

"Love is kind," I whimper taking the next line from him.

"Love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude," he says.

"It does not insist on its own way," I say breathily, and he releases my hands pulling his arms back.

"It is not irritable," he says pushing back on his chair.

"Or resentful," he continues as he comes to his feet.

"It does not rejoice in wrongdoing but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things." He recites and pulling out a box Luke opens it revealing the most precious diamond I've ever seen in my life. And then he gets on one knee.

Anastasia Steele, I promise to love you and only you.

"Will you marry me?"


	30. Chapter 30: Jesus take the wheel

**Chapter 30:** The Jesus takes the wheel

**Disclaimer:** FSOG, belongs to EL James

**A/N:** Sorry, didn't realize my husband was taking me away for the weekend, so here's the chapter I'd promised this weekend. Always- Thank you for reading, reviewing and following- Enjoy

The door slips from my hand when exhaustion propels me forward, and my body folds in on itself. Bending down, I place my hands on my thighs, as I struggle to get the air into my lungs and it is then that a rattled Kate, comes flying out of the kitchen. But quickly, she relaxes, when she sees, it's me and not some unnamed ax-murderer.

"God Ana you scared the shit out of me," Kate huffs, as she rests a hand on her chest. "What are you doing here anyway?" Incredulous, she frowns.

Heaving, I keep my hands balanced on my knees, as I tilt my head upward so I can see her facial expression. "Luke proposed to me," I confide. There, it's out. I already feel lighter.

Kate's eyes go wide and gaping she stares at me. "And what did you say, do tell?" she asks when she regains her composure.

My breathing under more control I straighten my torso. "Lets see. I've just run here from the Heathman," I say breathlessly, "so my answer was no."

"No wonder you look like something the proverbial cat dragged in," she quips, but then she quickly finds her compassion. "Go sit down. I'll get you some water and a cloth to wipe your face. You're sweating profusely," she says

My muscles revolt against me, they seize up when I try to walk. In an almost crawl, I finally make it to the sofa and lowering my achy body down on it. I have even more regret. I was not prepared to run so far so fast.

Coming to a stand in front of me, Kate shoves a cold bottle at me. "Thanks, I think," I say sardonically.

She smirks at me. "It's what you get. I don't know what possessed you run that far anyway," she says, taking a seat next to me. "You're moving like an old lady."

Grimacing, I lean back onto the sofa. "I know," I reply.

"Oh, here you go," she says handing me the towel on her shoulder.

"A dishtowel?" I question.

"Just take the damn thing, I'm going to throw it away," she yelps.

She's right I am sweating like mad and it's starting to burn my eyes so I snatch the dishtowel from her. "Thank you," I say begrudgingly.

"Where is your towel?"

"I lost it on the route," I say taking another gulp of the water. Shifting on the sofa, Kate pulls her legs up under her. "Show off."

"So tell me about this proposal. I guess your pseudo honeymoon was going so well, he wanted the real thing?" she smirks.

Holding the ice cold bottle up to my forehead I rest the back of my head on the sofa. "I doubt his proposal was brought on by sex," I say, slowly sitting up. "And I don't think I'd be a braggart, if I said he'd proposed to me because he loves me."

"No you wouldn't be, but you would be lying if you said you were in love with him."

Blocking out the pain, I sit up straighter. "I am in love with Luke," I protest.

She snorts. "Of courses you are, that's why you said yes."

"I said no because I do love him. So much so, I wanted to spare him the inevitable suffering that would come in the long term from being with me. The timing is wrong for us; I've got too much baggage. I'm too young, and nowhere ready for marriage. I've not yet proven that I can successfully handle dating. And not to mention, I'm carrying the child of one Christian Grey, and that comes with, it's on set of problems," I say pausing to take another sip of water. "So see it has nothing to do with some unrequited love for Christian."

She takes a deep breath. "All valid reasons," she says reaching up and moving a tendril of wet hair behind my ear, "Sorry that wayward strand was driving me crazy," she smiles. "Listen, Steele, I'm proud of you for having the fortitude to stick with your belief, because the old Ana would've gone along to get along."

"It wasn't so much bravery, as much as, it was the right thing to do. Plus, it's not just me anymore, I have to think about my child."

Leaning over Kate, puts her hand on my growing but still-small baby bump. "Yes you are going to be a mommy," she says, her voice mimicking a small child. "And I'm going to be Auntie Kate," she beams.

I throw my head back and immediately I bring it back up. "Yes, you are. Can you please promise to not spoil this baby," I warn.

She rolls her eyes at me. "I'm not the one you should be worried about. Auntie Mia Grey will be the problem."

To stretch my legs out, I carefully rest them up on the coffee table. "Don't remind me."

She pats me on my shoulder. "Let's get back to Luke. You're trying to change the subject."

"What else do you want to know?"

"How did he take it?"

"What do you think? He was crushed? But by the end I think he'd understood, and appreciated my candor."

"So, where does this leave you two?" she asks, picking up her bottled water from the coffee table.

"We remain a couple if that's what you're asking," I say. "I'm sure it will be a little awkward at first, as we chart this new path on our journey," I say, shrugging my shoulders.

"I'm confused. If things ended so well with the two of you, remind me again, why you ran the almost 15 miles from the Heathman."

"I don't know something happened to me when my feet hit the pavement in front of the hotel, I turned into Forrest Gump. The tiny Jenny on my shoulder was telling me to run. It started out being something cathartic, then it took on a life of its own as I tried to figure out how Luke and I got here," I say. "He's so confusing," I confess.

"Why is that?" she ask, now in her investigative reporter mode.

"In one breath he's talking about giving me the space to grow and mature within the confinements of our relationship. It's the reason, I didn't see his proposal coming. So how could he then turn around and propose to me, complicating things between us unnecessarily so," I sigh

And then, suddenly, I'm hit by a pain so sharp to the stomach that it makes my whole body jerk. Bringing my feet from off the coffee table I clutch my stomach doubling over from the pain. "Ah," I grunt.

Panicked, Kate unfurls her legs and puts a hand on my back. "Steele, are you alright?" she asks

"No," I pant in pain. "Something is terribly wrong Kate," I say breathily

"Can you stand up," she asks, but she doesn't wait for my response. She's already in position to assist me from the sofa to my feet. "C'mon, I'm taking you to the emergency room."

She finally gets me in the car, but when she goes to close my door, I grip her hand stopping her. Our eyes lock, for the first time since the whole episode and in her glassy green ones I see my fears reflected back in my glassy blue ones.

Hugging her forearm, I lean on her. "Let's get you to the hospital," she mumbles."

Kate, holds on to my hand as the emergency room Dr. addresses me. For my part, I keep my eyes trained on her mouth; in addition to, hearing the words I wanted to see them leave her lips. Strange thing, time seem to suspend, as the Dr. delivers the fatal blow. My baby was gone, the news made my heart dissolve. Not shatter, but literally dissolve causing the toes on my feet to curl gripping the thin hospital sheet, as my bottom lip starts to quiver. The agony sweeps through my body with a force so jarring my back bows. "No," I holler out, collapsing back onto the bed. Kate then snakes her free hand under me pulling my body to her and my head rolls to the side falling against her bosom. "Kate. No, not my baby," I choke in a strangled voice burying my face in her chest.

I've heard people say it and I've even read about it. That there's no loss greater than that of a child. And since I'd suffered tremendous lost in my childhood, I'd often challenged that statement. As sick as it is, I'd even tried imagining the pain for comparison. Well the jokes on me, this isn't the kind of pain you can imagine, it can only be felt. And if you're unlucky enough to be ensnared by it, there is no expectation of relief, because when you wake up in the morning, and every morning after that your child will still be gone.

The ache is indescribable, worse than any physical pain that can be measured by a number on the pain scale. I know this from my last trip to the hospital, they had me rate my pain on a scale from 1-10 and at the time the pain only registered a 3 and I'd remembered thinking. You'd have you to be in a lot of pain to reach a threshold as high as a 10. The devil is a lie, a 10 is too small for the pain I'm enduring now.

The searing achiness is overwhelming, taking my breath away "No," I mutter against Kate's bosom. My shortness of breath is different this time, so I'm not worried about hyperventilating; it's a controlled panicked where I'd remain cognizant for the suffering.

Kate leans over and rests the side of her face on top of my head, consoling me, and I feel her own hot tears seeping through my hair, pooling on my scalp.

The young intern looks wary; she'd been uncomfortable delivering the news to me. "Again let me say how sorry I am," she, says her voice shaky at first, but when she gets to the medical jargon, her delivery flows more naturally sounding less rehearsed. "Miscarriages occur every day, many time with no good explanation. When they happen this early on in a pregnancy, we're inclined to believe that it's nature way of taking care of a pregnancy that was not viable," she says, but in my head I'm shouting you're wrong. By nature, you mean God and from the little relationship I have with him, God is not this cruel. God would not snuff the life out my baby, knowing I would easily sacrifice my own for him. I say him because I'd had a feeling it was a little boy with the glint of copper to hair like his dad.

She tucks my folder under her arm. "I'll leave you two alone," she gives me her sympathetic smile. "I've been in contact with you primary OB/GYN and she wants me to have you admitted overnight for further test, so you'll be moved to a regular room," she says. But we're too busy grieving to acknowledge her; me for my baby and Kate for me.

Gently Kate removes her arm and releasing my hand she eases my head back down on the pillow. Hovering over me, she uses her hand to wipe away the moisture accumulating on my face; I didn't have the strength to do it myself, and honestly I'm not sure I want her too. The way I see it, it's my tribute to my dead unborn child. The only thing I have left to show for my trip to the hospital, my mourning. For all intent and purposes, my body has already reverted back to normal; so in no time I can be unpregnant but I'll never be able to unloved.

"Ana, please say something," Kate pleads, but it's no use. I'm lost, I know this feeling. My body has withdrawn into itself, for self-preservation.

By now my eyes are puffy, sore and bloodshot, but I can't stop, the dam has been breached and it's not going to let up anytime soon. Clenching my jaw, I look up at the ceiling for some hope to cling to, because I've lost all. Kate wants me to talk. Well my throat is raw so I'm doubtful I could if wanted too. The fact is I don't want to, my voice has been rendered useless; my grief defies a description. There are no adjectives, adverbs, or numbers on a pain scale to adequately define it; so why try.

"Ana you're scaring me," Kate says, but before she can continue with her pleading an Orderly enters the room so he can transport me to my new room for the night.

The new space is larger, more suited for an overnight stay, but it's still dead, empty, and cold; like me. The world as I know it, has lost all of its colors and has become flat and monochromatic. But through the grayness, I'm thankful to have Kate. She has been steadfast and her unwavering support had been my one true light. Aside from being my one person support system, she's been my caregiver along with the nurses. Helping me bathe and dressed while they'd put the finishing touches on my room.

Kate pats my pillow. "I took it upon myself to call Luke and Ray, both are on their way," she says pulling the chair up to my bedside. "I text Lulu." Sitting, she takes my hand in her hand bringing it to her lips. "Ana, please tell me what to do," she whispers against my knuckle. "I'm at a loss." She then cups my hand between both of her hands and lowering her head she sobs against them. For her sake, I try to say something but the words get swallowed up by the deep anguish, so the sound that leaves my body is blood curdling.

Dropping my hand Kate stands and cradles my head, as the sound bounces off the walls stabbing me squarely in my chest where my heart used to be. The regrets haunt me. God is not cruel, but he is just; I was bad, but more importantly I'd sin. Karla had warned me that I was a bad little girl, but it's the grownup me that had been unholy. I'd not repented or learned from my first mistake, I'd continued to fornicate. What if I'd not participated in all manner of sex all week. What if I'd not had sex again after Christian? What if I'd not jogged the almost 20 miles. The what ifs are killing me softly; fate has a million tales to tell and this is its newest one.

Muttering, the words just fall out of my mouth. "The Lord is my shepherd I shall not want." Unbelieving what she's hearing, Kate's body stiffens "He maketh me lie down in green pasture; he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restored my soul," I say in a strangled voice and this time Kate brings her body up, but it doesn't deter me. Swallowing the water draining down my cheeks to my lips along with the snot that's running down from my nose into my mouth, I continue. "Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life." Quietly I break down and beg for the mercy I do not believe I deserve, but I hope he will have on me.

Standing up, Kate walks to the adjacent bathroom and comes back with a wet washcloth. Trying to muster a smile, she silently cups my face and starts wiping it with the warm cloth.

"Anastasia," my Dr. calls from the door, and Kate steps away to give us some privacy.

She then comes back into the room just as the Dr. is leaving. "Um, I've ordered something to help her sleep," the Dr. whispers to Kate and if I were talking right now, I would protest. Protest the sedative and protest them talking about me like I'm not in the room.

Peeking over the Dr's shoulder, Kate gives me a sympathetic glance then she turns her attention back to the Dr. giving her a nod. Satisfied with the approval from my defacto mouthpiece the Dr. makes her exit.

Kate's phone beep. "Elliot," she screeches then she lowers her voice a decimal. "Yes, her Dr. is gone," she says, staring at me questioningly. "Sure, let me ask her."

She lowers the phone and she steps closer to me. "Ana, Elliot would like to say something," she says, in a small voice as if she's talking to a child.

Remaining expressionless, I ignore her request and then shifting I turn my back on her. Hoping she'd get the message; I didn't want to be bothered.

"I'm worried about her El, I've never seen her like this. She hasn't said much of anything," Kate says in a hushed tone, and I want to remind her that I'm not in a coma. I can hear, I'm just not talking.

Disregarding, my body language cues, Kate hovers over my back putting her iPhone at my ear. "Hey, Ana. First, I want to let to you know how sorry I am. As soon as, I get a hold of Christian, I'm sure he'll want to talk to you." I smirk to myself, as I pull at the neck of the flimsy hospital gown that's getting wetter and wetter from the water trekking down my face rolling over my lips tumbling down my chin and trailing along my neck landing on the collar.

Kate pulls the phone back. "Elliot, she's not talking. Okay," she says ending the call. Then Kate drags the only chair in the room around the bed so she can sit facing me. Taking my hand, she rests her head on the edge of my bed.

Again we sit in silence, until an Orderly opens the door, pushing the food cart inside interrupting. Lifting her head, Kate issues instructions then he leaves. Knowing that it's futile, she doesn't even try to get me to eat. Moving, the dinner tray to another surface, she races back to pick up her beeping phone.

It's Lulu this time, but Kate doesn't attempt to engage her in small talk. After a quick explanation, she simply puts the phone to my ear.

"Oh, Snow my precious Snow. When I'd seen you that first night we were on the street. I'd thought you were the cutest little girl I'd ever seen. With your big blue eyes, pale skin, and thick chocolate hair, to me you were the spitting image of Snow White. And you were so tiny and brave. You stayed so close to me and from that night forward we've been inseparable," I'm rambling," she chuckles. "One day we had to attend a church service if we wanted to eat. Remember? Anyway, while waiting we were seated next to these three elderly African-American women. They were swapping stories, each more horrendous than the next and but instead of feeling defeated, they were uplifted. They'd reiterated **this too shall pass **over and over. So I wanted you to know;** this too shall pass**." Seeing my distress, Kate pulls the phone back.

I bury the back of my head into my pillow, slapping my hand over my face as my chin starts to quiver. She meant well, but the words coming from her are hollow; she'd never lost a child. Yes, maybe I'd gotten over my horrific childhood and even Christian, but this will not pass.

Kate quickly ends the call and rushes over to me taking me in her arms and immediately she starts rubbing my hair down until my eyes get heavy and sleep beckons.

She kisses my hair. "I'll be right outside," she says.

_"Mommie, Mommie, Mommie." I hear the giggling. Turning my head from side to side I frantically search for the source. I'm in a field of gold, wheat. Then finally I see my baby who's now a toddler running in the wind, happy and carefree._

_"Mommy's coming," I shout, but my feet are stuck in the mood._

_"I got you." I hear and I recognize the voice, but I don't see him. _

_"Daddy, you got me," my baby giggles heartedly._

_"Yeah, I got you," he murmurs throwing my baby up in the air._

_"Christian," I whisper._

_He winks at me. "Hi, Angel. You're beautiful and so brave," he says breathily as he tosses my baby over his shoulder. I still can't see if my baby is a boy or girl. The clothes are gender neutral and there are no other clues._

_"I don't feel brave," I say._

_"Well, you are. From the moment I'd first met you, you were brave. I was so afraid, but I'd never told my mother. I didn't want to let her down. I was sent to help you but in the end you'd helped me. But you'd underestimated your strength and you still do. Fast forward years later, and you're still teaching me. You're far braver than I am._

_ "I wish I could go back. I would change so many things," I sigh._

_He smiles at me. "Not me, I wouldn't change a thing," he says and it is then I notice that his arm is empty._

_"Christian, the baby," I yell. "Where's our baby?" I simper._

_"Don't cry," he whispers and he points at my heart . "In here," and then he points at his, "and in here," he says softly._

The small bed dips as I feel someone sliding in behind me, the strong arms encircle my waist. Sighing in contentment, I rest my hands over his pulling them tighter around me as I snuggle against his chest. "You came," I mumble and he kisses me on the top of my head.

"Yes, I came. I would never let you go through this alone," he whispers. My eyes flutter open and I'm not in a field. And it's Luke. Not Christian.

**CPOV**

"Roz, put the Kaizen shit away. I don't give a fuck about business process improvements and black belts. It all sounds too much like why I'd dropped out of Harvard. So let's get to the Taiwan deal, I have another meeting."

She smirks at me. "I'm not giving up," she says sarcastically.

My intercom beeps and I run my hand through my hair. "Andrea," I bark. "I told you I was not to be disturbed."

"I know sir, but your brother insisted. He said it was important."

"Put him through," I say to her and I ask Roz to give me 2 seconds to get Elliot off the phone. "Okay, Elliot you've got 5 seconds. I'm in a very important meeting so make it snappy."

"Christian, Ana lost the baby," he says and everything fades away.

"Hold on a second Elliot," I say putting him on hold.

"Roz, let's meet to-tomorrow," I say stumbling through a simple sentence.

"Christian is everything alright, your face is as white as a ghost?

"Yes" I reply too sharply, but I don't give it a second thought. I need to get back to Elliot.

I let out the deep breath, I'd been holding, before patching Elliot back in. "How the fuck did this happen?" I boom. "She'd just had a Dr.'s appointment on Tuesday."

"And how did you know that."

"I covered her fucking medical cost, is that alright with you?"

"Calm down Christian, I know you're upset."

"I'm not fucking upset, I'm stating a fact," I correct him.

"Regardless, I didn't get into the details with Kate. But, Ana is suffering. I thought you'd want to know she'd stopped talking. So, I was thinking hearing from you would go a long way in helping her in her recovery," he sighs.

I run my hand through my hair. "Elliot, thank you for letting me know, I need to get back to my meeting," I say matter factly.

"Sure thing. I'm sorry about the baby," he says and I simply end the call.

"Andrea cancel my remaining appointments for today clearing my schedule," I instruct her.

"Um, Mr., Grey the governor's office called and they are already enroute," she says.

"I don't give a fuck if the Governor is standing at my office door, I am not seeing anyone the rest of the day," I boom.

"Yes, of course, sir. I will clear your calendar and not interrupt you."

"Thank you," I say softening to make up for the yelling. Andrea is a great assistant and I don't want to lose her.

My elbows on my desk, I rest my head in my hands as I try to make sense of the world and the cruel tricks it plays. She's undeserving of this blow. I certainly was not on board with this pregnancy, but this is not the ending I'd predicted or wanted. Why am finding it so difficult, to compartmentalize my feelings? Am I to blamed for this? Pushing back on my chair, I leap to my feet and walk the few steps to my wall of windows. Damn her for again turning my ordered world into chaos.

I shove my hands into my pants pocket; I take them out; I don't know what to do with them. Suddenly everything is uneasy, and I feel like a foreigner in my own body. Things even look different; a backdrop that used to offer me so much respite is providing me no solace today. For so long I'd shielded myself behind a firewall, but today the Wall had been penetrated. And what am I supposed to do with the reckoning.

Staring out the window, I try to get the stupid passage out of my head that I'd overheard Grace reciting to Elliot, after a particularly bad night of nightmares. It's when we were all still in Detroit and I was still with the crack whore. I was only 4, and had no understanding of religion, but from that day forward it had been what I'd recited when my nightmares visited me. However, once I'd moved in with my new family, the words were no longer relevant. I'd long forgotten them, so why like a fucking ear-worm the damn words are stuck in my head now. watching the tiny people below, bustling like gnats, oblivious to the suffering of others my hands slip into my pockets. This time it's with a comfortable ease. Then the words that had wormed their way into my head, uninvited leap from my brain to the tip of my tongue. And closing my eyes in deep contemplation they tumble out of my mouth.

"The Lord is my Shepard."

Disclaimer: All reference to medical jargon is for entertainment only


	31. Chapter 31: Tears In Heaven

**Chapter 31:** Tears In Heaven

**Disclaimer:** FSOG belongs to EL James

**A/N:** I want to note that I'm not indicating that jogging during pregnancy causes a miscarriage. Women run during their pregnancy every day some up to the ninth month...Recently ESPN highlighted a runner who'd done just that and had a happy, healthy baby.

Thank you for reading, reviewing and following- please enjoy

**Saturday- Leaving Hospital**

Ray trails behind us with my personal belongings in hand, as Luke and I stand behind Kate watching while she fumbles with getting the key into the lock. It's quite ridiculous really, how they are all hovering over me. Aside from not having a baby to show for my trip to the hospital, physically I'm fine.

Eventually, Kate gets the front door open and Luke puts his hand at the small of my back ushering me through and they follow me like clowns into a clown car. Since apparently I can't walk through a door without the assistance of a committee. Close on my heel, they all stumble when I abruptly come to a standstill upon crossing the threshold; however, thankfully they're nimble enough to readjust their steps to avoid bumping into me.

Automatically, my eyes meander around the room getting reacquainted with a home that's become inhospitable; it is forever linked to the worst disaster of my life. I'd anticipated feeling some kind of way when entering, but I'd not expected the impact to be so hard-hitting and swift.

Standing adjacent to me, Luke tilts his head down whispering in my ear. "Are you okay?" Swallowing hard, I try to bring some of the moisture back to my dry mouth. Sidestepping his question, I push his arm away and mindlessly start walking.

"Kiddo," Ray calls. Stopping, I pivot to face him. He's holding up my bags. "Where do you want me to put these?"

I think about it for all of a second. "I don't care," I say flatly and continue on my trek.

"Ana," Kate calls out in distress. I pause, but my excess energy keeps my feet propelling forward. "If you're tired, you should go to my room," she says stammering. "Since I've been at the hospital with you all night, I've not had the time to clear your room," she says, carefully parsing her words.

I don't acknowledge Kate nor do I heed her warning, I continue moving until I reach the closed door of my bedroom. Taking a deep cleansing breath, I send up a silent prayer before grasping the doorknob. The metal is cold at first touch but warms as I cling to it with a fierce determination, but a resolve that's weakening. Sensing Luke approaching, my body twitches signaling for him to stay back. Then straightening my back and holding my head high, I turn the knob. A moment of sadness sweeps through me, but as the crack widens a sense of calmness washes over me.

The door grazes the crib I'd coveted. Stepping inside and with the water trickling into my mouth, I slowly slide my hand along the rail searing the memory of it into my brain. The wood is still smooth against my palm and the white as brilliant as the first day I'd seen it. The only change, the hope that one day my baby would lay his head inside of it. Walking beyond the crib, I come to the mountain of pampers, wipes and sundry of other baby products neatly lined up against my bedroom wall. If only I could arrange the bevy of emotions swirling inside my deeply troubled mind into the same orderly fashion; I'd be forever grateful. I may be present, but I'm not here. I'm being transported to the time before this when I was pregnant. A time I'd thought was my worst of time, but in light of what has transpired, it was the best of time of my life. If only I'd known, I'd spent more time cherishing being pregnant instead of dwelling on the hopelessness of him. Then the angry reality of what I'd lost grips my soul and wrings it and slowly I sink down to the floor. Simpering in anguish, I sprawl my arm across a single stack of not yet boxed pampers and lay my head on my forearm as the trickles turn into a deluge. With the rhythm of my heartbeat pounding out every ache I'm experiencing, I'm reminded of all I'd lost; a baby, my faith in humanity, and the love of my life.

A strong hand grips my shoulder and my whole body shudders. "Kiddo," Ray says quietly. Unclenching my eyes, I see him squatting before me. "You want some company?" he asks in as gentle a tone I'd ever heard him speak.

Lifting my head slightly, I bite my lower lip to stop it from quivering. "I want my daddy," I say in a strangled whisper.

Dropping to the floor, Ray snakes his arm under me pulling me into his lap. "I'm right here baby girl," he hums as he rocks me from side to side.

I cling to him. "It's not fair," I whimper

Ray cups the back of my head holding it tightly to his chest. "I agree," he says resting his head against mine. Holding his head back up, Ray removes his arms and unfurling mine he nudges me backward. It is then I see his face as if I'm seeing him for the first time. The normally taciturn Raymond Steele is smiling with his eyes and is eager to talk. "But you know what they say, the world doesn't give us any more than we can handle," he says wiping my face with the palms of his hands. The roughness of his calluses is soothing against my skin as if they are meant to dull the sharpness of my pain.

My head nestled against his chest Ray cradles me. "What if it is more than I can handle," I sniff.

"Pff," he sighs. "Please. Considering what you overcome Kiddo, I'd say you are a survivor," he says. "Tired?" he asks angling his head down.

"Yes," I murmur.

"Come on, I'll help you," he says.

Cradling me tightly in his arms, Ray comes to his feet and carries me to my bed. He pulls the covers back and gently lays me down on the sheet. Then he removes my shoes before tucking me in. "Thank you," I say softly.

His smile disappears and his serious persona reappears. "Don't thank me, it's my job," he says proudly.

"Stay with me?" I pout and hustling over I make space for him.

"I'd like that," Ray says and the bed dips as he crawls on top of the covers shoes and all. Getting comfortable he crosses his ankles and throws his arm over my shoulders. I then let my head roll to his chest and allow myself to relax into his embrace as my eyes grow tired, and I drift off to sleep.

_"Mommie, Mommie, Mommie." I hear my name. I hear the giggling and finally I see the small figure running in the distance. I try to catch up, but I can't. My baby runs too fast. He gets farther and farther away from me._

_"Come back," I yell. "Come back, please come back," I moan. "Please come back. Please come back. Please come back."_

My eyes fly open to Ray feverishly shaking my shoulders. "Are you okay?" he asks frantically. "You were crying out in your sleep. Who were dreaming about?"

As I try to catch my breath, I pull away from him and run my hands over my face. "My baby I think," I pant.

"This isn't the first time you've had this dream is it?"

I nod my head. "No," I whimper, "last night," I add.

"No wonder you looked so tired this morning, you didn't sleep," he says running his hand down the length of my hair. "Want some water?" he asks.

"Yes," I say softly.

"Okay, stay here," Ray says as he pries himself from me.

Leaning back against my headboard, I hold the blanket up to my neck waiting for Ray to return and it is then that I see Luke at my doorway.

He pokes his head inside. "Hey," he says.

"Hey."

He smiles, but it's not genuine. "I'm glad you're talking, even if it's in a one-word sentence," Luke says trying to make light of the indifference I've shown towards him. In as much as he wants to say more, Ray comes up behind him.

"Excuse me, son," Ray says.

"Oh sure sir," Luke responds nervously, and he steps aside to let Ray get by him.

"Here you go," Ray says handing me the ice cold bottle. "I thought it would be better than a glass because it has a top." He winks.

I smile, always practical. "Thank you," I say twisting off the top.

"Well, baby I'll talk to you later," Luke says pushing off the doorframe and heading back to the living room.

Ray sits down on the edge of the bed."Put the young man out of his misery," he says offering me his unsolicited advice. "He wants to take care of you so let him," he continues. "Taking care of the women we love is the only thing we men know for sure."

"I'm not the person, he's used too. I've changed," I murmur.

"Yes, you have. The last 24 hours have been hell. We've all changed as a result of it. I was just getting used to the idea of being a granddad."

"Oh Ray, I mean dad. I'm so sorry I'd never considered your feelings," I sob.

"And you shouldn't have, this is about you," he says leaning in to kiss my forehead.

His lips touch my skin and my hands latch onto his forearms holding him in place. "When will this get better dad?" I whisper breathily.

I release him and he sits back up. "I don't know kiddo, but you should lean on your friends more," he says moving my hair behind my ears. "I'm going to be taking off soon so use them for your support, especially that young man out there. He's a good young man. He stood by your side when you weren't even pregnant with his child. That's more than what can be said about the young man who was the father."

His words ring true, but right now I'm holding some resentment towards Luke while I am ambivalent towards Christian. It defies logic I know, but I hold him more responsible for what's happened. "Ana," Luke calls pulling me back from the brink. "Sorry to interrupt Mr. Steele, but lunch is ready so I wanted to check with Ana to see if she's ready to eat," Luke says.

Ray chimes in before I can get a chance to say no. "Son, why don't you go ahead and make her up a plate," he instructs.

"Yes, sir. Kate has lunch for you too," Luke informs Ray.

"Son don't worry about me, I'm leaving shortly."

"Oh." Luke hesitates for a moment then he steps away from the door.

"Kiddo, you need to eat. You barely ate anything for breakfast. If you want to feel better mentally, you have to stay healthy and that starts with eating," Ray lectures me, at the same time he's wiping the moisture from my cheeks.

Luke interrupts our moment, walking in with the tray. I prepare myself to eat to only please my dad. "I had Kate pick up chicken noodle soup from Panera for you. She also got you a roll and hot tea," Luke says setting the tray down on the bedside table

Ray comes to his feet and sizes Luke up. "Listen, son, I'm leaving. So, I'm trusting my little girl with you and Kate and you'd better not let me down," Ray booms.

Luke doesn't flinch. "Sir, I won't. I promise," he says

"And I believe that too soldier. Ana told me you were in the military," Ray says.

"Yes sir, I was. And one of the most important things I learned was that the father of the girl you're in love with is far scarier than any enemy you're likely to encounter on the battlefield," Luke says.

Ray, gives him a smack on his back. "I like him," he beams, smiling at me then at Luke. "See you later baby girl," Ray says giving me a final peck on the forehead. "I'll check on you when I get home."

"Bye dad," I whisper.

Luke waits for Ray to exit, and he sits down on the edge of the bed. His face hovering over me he pushes some hair off my face and inexplicably I flinch turning away from him. He blows out a puff of air. "Do you want me to leave?" His voice is a mixture of disappointment and hurt. It wasn't my intention to hurt him, never the less, it's what I keep doing.

"Knock, knock," Kate says and Luke sits up straighter. "Ana, I forgot to put this pastry on your plate," she says, as she navigates through all the baby stuff to get to my bed.

"Thank you, Kate," Luke says speaking for me.

* * *

**CPOV**

His plate empty, Elliot shoves it back; as well as, his chair scraping it against my imported marble floor. "So tell me, man, when are you going to reach out to her?" he inquires.

Fed up with him and this line of questioning, I throw my napkin down, but it misses my empty plate landing on the table instead. "And say what Elliot?" I bark. "Hello. Sorry, you lost a baby I never wanted," I huff. "I cannot pretend to miss a child I never wanted in the first place. So I'm not an equal partner with her in her mourning; in much the same way, I was not equal with her in the celebration of the baby's conception. So I'd be disingenuous if I'd approached her and she'd see through me." I push my chair back, and standing up I start pacing. Coming to a stop, I rested my hands on the back of my chair and glared at him. "And you can save your fucking judgmental rebuke," I snarl. "Don't get me wrong I am sorry about the miscarriage; I"m not a monster after all." I decide to add since he's staring at me in disbelief.

Elliot holds up his man in mock surrender. "Hey, dude I got nothing. But I do have a suggestion. Why don't you stop with the bullshit and start by simply calling her and saying sorry?"

"Fuck," I sigh and release the chair. "Come on Elliot, you know damn well that wouldn't suffice. She'd expect more. She'd want more from me; she always does." I run my hand through my hair in exasperation.

Getting up from his chair, Elliot walks up to me. "Here. A nice good old cold American brewsky would be better, but since you're a pompous ass, this will have to do," he says jokingly, as he thrusts my half full glass of wine at me and I snatch it from his hand.

Tipping the glass up, I take a sip and continue from where I'd left off. "Believe it or not I wanted to feel something. But aside from the initial shock and the brief moment of sadness for her; nothing." I take another sip of wine.

"Here's a thought, maybe if you'd stop thinking of the baby as only hers perhaps then you'd be able to grieve your loss."

I hold his gaze. "Have you ever had anyone die on you, Elliot? Not a pet, a human being."

He hesitates. "No, Christian I have not," he says and I walk to the living room aiming straight for the wall of windows.

Elliot follows, but he stops at the sofa. "If you had, you wouldn't be so eager for me to unearth the feelings of grief,'' I say somberly as flashes of the crack whore's death creeps uninvited into my mind and I stare out on the distance seeking a replacement for the memory.

"It's perfect!" I rotate my head to look at him. He confounds me; was that dialogue with just me I think to myself. I shake my head at him. "You two have something in common. You can relate to her. So if you can't have feelings for your dead fetus then have compassion for her."

My wine glass ensconced in my hand, I turn back to the window. "This is me showing her compassion," I say flatly bringing the glass to my lips.

"Really, you could've fooled me."

I swivel putting my back to the windows and my front to him. "I'm not going to give her false hope Elliot. The link she had to me is gone." I sigh.

He snorts. "Sorry to inform you, you're wrong," he says.

I sigh audibly. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You two were forever linked way before this baby. Add mom to the equation and you're delusional in thinking that this wipes her from your life. Ana has ingratiated herself to our mom so she's going to be around bro whether you like it or not. You may be the ruler of this glass Kingdom, but mom rules the rest of the world," he says smirking.

"Damn it," I seethe.

"Didn't think about that huh Sherlock?

"Fuck you, Elliot," I close my eyes. "I lied. I do feel something, guilty," I confess to him.

"Why?"

"I feel complicit in her miscarriage. That maybe I'd pushed her too hard and it stressed her out."

"Let me put your conscious to rest, Kate didn't curse your name so that leads me to believe that what happened had nothing to do with you. So call her. Go see her, l don't care just do something," he implores.

"No," I say defiantly.

"No," he repeats and he slams his glass down on the coffee table jumping to his feet. "You know Christian despite your hellish ways, I've stood by you and been your biggest supporter. You try to keep it a secret, but I know the gist of your predilection. But I'm not judging you and it doesn't change how I feel about you one iota." I flinch, but I don't give anything away. How could he know, I'm beyond careful. He's only bluffing I tell myself so impassively I stare at him. "I've watched you emasculate men and women with the precision of a surgeon for no other reason than because you Can. And over the years, as your tumultuous relationship with mom and dad played out, I was right there with you. After all, you were my little brother and as your big brother that's what I was supposed to do. Take care of you. But this vendetta you have towards Ana is where I get off. I can't sit by and watch you play a role in her destruction. Now that makes you a monster." He picks up his wine glass and throwing his head back he gulps the last little bit down.

"Elliot."

This time, he calmly sets the glass down on the coffee table. "No, Christian not this time. You're not getting your way. You can do what you need to do, but I'm going to do what I need to do." Pinning me with his glare, Elliot walks backward and then he turns taking his time walking to the elevator leaving me perplexed.

Breathing hard, I watch the elevator doors open, Elliot enter and the steel box whisk him away. I ponder the situation for a moment, then I retire to where I'm most at home even in my home. My office.

* * *

The shower ends and Kate hurriedly hugs me goodnight so she can make it out of the bedroom before Luke exits the bathroom. But I suspect it's the one-sided conversation, that has her running for the exit; she talked and I mainly grunted.

By the time Luke's makes it out, I've assumed my position in the bed. My back is to him as I try to prepare for when he touches me. Holding my breath, I feel the bed dip and I curl up in the fetal position anticipating his arms encircling my waist. I'm different. Up until yesterday, I'd always been pregnant while dating him. I can't explain it but everything feels different between us and it has nothing to do with his ill-advised proposal.

Luke kisses the top of my head, as his arms wrap around me and I willed myself to remain stock still to keep from making any involuntary movements. "Baby are you okay? Your body feels so rigid," he asks against my hair.

I release the breath I'd been holding and ball my mouth up to keep from tearing up. "Mmm," I grunt out.

"Ana, please talk to me. Don't shut me out. I know I can't fully understand how you're hurting, but I feel this baby's loss too," he says. I'd been so caught up in my own grief, I keep forgetting the impact my miscarriage is having on the other people in my life, not named Christian Grey. Just because this baby's loss matters not to him, doesn't mean it doesn't matter to the other people that matter to me.

Resting my hand over his, I give Luke my nonverbal reassurance. His body visibly sags in relief and he's sighs with contentment. Feeling guilty, I try to release the anger I'm harboring towards him. Subconsciously I hold him partially to blame for my miscarriage. He was the last man I was with, and on some irrational level I strongly believe the erotic sex acts we engaged in, were contributing factors.

"I'm so sorry I can't stay with you longer, but I have to go to New York. I'm lucky my boss let me postpone it by a day" he says. Then he pulls my back tighter to his front as he snuggles against me. Staring at nothing, in particular, I finally fall asleep.

I bolt upright. A good night sleep was not meant to be. From behind me, Luke grasps my shoulders. "Baby, are you okay?" he asks. I nod my head no, at the same time, pushing the covers back and throwing my legs over the edge of the bed.

Flipping the light on, I rush into the bathroom. Walking up to the mirror, I rest my hands on the edge of the sink to catch my breath as I try to make sense out of my reoccurring dream. I've yet to decide if it's a nightmare, or a welcome chance to be with my unborn child. My head rolls back and bringing it forward again I get a glimpse of my reflection. My eyes are permanently puffy and bloodshot from my 24 hours of constant mourning. Then touching my face which it is so bloated the blotchiness on my skin feel raised.

"Baby, are you okay," Luke shouts from the bed.

I swallow hard and shake my head. "No, I 'm not," I murmur quietly but like a tree in the forest no one is there to hears me.

* * *

**LuluPOV- Mon.**

The always well-manicured Katherine Kavanagh opens the door and I wish I'd had my phone out to capture the look on her face when she sees it's me behind the door. Pushing her aside. "You can't just barge in here, dammit," Kate swears

I wave her off. I've eaten pageant queens like her for my appetizer. "Try and stop me," I snap, dropping my Birkin bag to the sofa as I make my way to Snow's bedroom.

It's amazing what you can get wealthy men to buy when you fuck them senseless. Popping the buttons open on my Burberry trench coat, I barge inside the closed door that is Ana's bedroom. I'm alarmed by what I see. The fucking room is loaded with baby shit. Snow is barely visible, in her bed where she's in the fetal position; however, she's starting to stir.

There's so much about the room that is pissing me off, but it is the darkness that is haunting me the most. So without saying a word, I maneuver around the huge crib occupying a majority of space in the room marching up to the first window I see. Standing in front of it; I grasp the floral printed panels, yanking them apart so the daylight can filter through.

Just as I'm about to move to the next window, spineless ass Kate pokes her head inside the doorway adding in her two cents. "I'm so sorry Ana," she says.

A bewildered Snow sits up and gazes from me to Kate and back to me. "Lulu," she whispers incredulously.

I ignore Kate and with my eyes glued to Snow I head towards the window near her bed. Stepping around the bedside table I snatch those panels open too. Finally, Katherine gets the message and stomps away from the door.

Like a vampire, Snow tries to shield her face from the light. Lowering myself to her level, I pull the covers down and rest a knee on the edge of the bed. "No wonder, you're still in mourning you're surrounded by death and flanked by its reminders," I say

Snow throws her arms around my neck. "Lulu. When did you get here?" she whimpers as she rests her head on my shoulder.

Wrapping my arms around her, I squeeze her tight. "I just arrived," I whisper against her hair. Releasing her, I lean backward so I can inspect her face. "First I want you out of this damn bed, then I want you to take a real shower so you can get dressed in real clothes," I demand.

Her chin starts quivering, and I grip it between my forefinger and thumb. "I'm sorry," she says in a strangled voice.

I smile at her. "You don't have to apologize, but sweetie you do have to stop crying. Your baby is gone and for that I'm so sorry. But you are here and you are my priority," I say letting go of her chin. It's time for some tough love; she'd been coddled enough by Ray, Katherine, and this Luke guy. "When you get dressed we need to talk about what to do with all this shit," I say gesturing with my head around the room. She's not happy, with my choice of words, but at least she agrees with me.

As soon as, I hear the shower I rush to the living room to deal with Miss Kavanagh. "What fuck Kate," I snarl.

Kate leaps from the sofa. "You know what Lulu, you can't fly in here on your broom dressed liked the designer leprechauns threw up all over you and make demands. By the way, take it from a rich person, we don't dress like a walking billboard. It's not necessary, people can tell we have money. A tip for the next time when you want to play at being rich," she says looking down her nose at me.

I smirk. "Is that supposed to be a dig at me? Too bad, because I'm in on the joke. I fucked and sucked a lot of dicks to get everything I have on. So see I'm no different than you, except I know who I am and get paid for it; you, on the other hand, know, but don't," I say smiling.

"You bitch," she seethes.

I wag my finger in her face. "Tsk tsks Katherine, I thought you were more creative than that. Tell you what I'll let you have that one," I say taking my hand and tossing my hair over my shoulders. "Now back to Snow. How did you let her get in this fucking condition?"

"Me?" She acts affronted. "Her unborn baby died. She desperately wanted it, so she's grieving for God sake. Of course, you would've have known this if you were actually around instead of some phantom over the phone playing the concerned friend," she says.

"Well I'm here now, and what I see is more than grieving. She's someone plunging into a deep depression and I can't fucking believe you'd standby and let it happen," I say

"Ana is fine, she just needs time to grieve and she'll be all better," she says.

"Kate, you're in fucking denial. Tell me, what is today?"

"Monday," she says.

"Yes and if I recall she has classes. Instead, she's in a dark room surrounded by reminders of that unborn child. She's barely talking and withdrawing more and more into herself. Forget warnings, the alarm bells are going off. She's about four days removed and she's not getting any better. So time isn't the answer. And this is coming from a woman who's made it her life's work to fix her. Well, this time I can't and nor can you," I say.

"Ana doesn't need fixing, she needs more time," Kate reiterates.

I sigh. "You know Katherine I got it all wrong. You know what you're doing. You want her like this, weak and dependent on you."

"You have no ideal what you're talking about. You've spent too much time flat on your back, earning all that designer gear you're wearing to make any sense. The blood has gone to your head. Well, while you've been on your back, I've been here helping Ana deal with her issues," she says sarcastically

I cackle. "Oh Katie, if you weren't so pathetic you'd be funny. Yes, I'm dressed in designer from head to toe and if you'd peek underneath my dress, you'd find that my underwear is designer too. But why stop there, I could spread my legs and let you dig for the gold buried in my pussy." She is speechless. "Now that we have that settled can we move on? Despite how we feel about each other, Snow is going to need both of us.

"What did you have in mind?" she asks begrudgingly.

"First we need to get all that shit out of her room. Stop coddling her and force her to get back to her routine," I outline.

She interrupts me. "Then what Lulu? That's the small stuff, what about the big stuff? The pieces I'll have to pick up when you take the next flight to God knows where," she says.

"You're jealous of her aren't you?"

"What?" she ask in protests.

"I mean I always knew you were jealous of her, but it was easier for you to hide it; as long as, she'd faded into the background. But then she hooked up with this powerful man, that I'm sure because of your birthright you'd thought he belonged with you. And I happened to agree with you because based on Ana's description of him; he's the cold, empty, and pompous bastard you deserve. But he chose Ana elevating her from background status to the front of the class." I pause to remove my Burberry coat, if for no other reason than to annoy Kate with my Victoria Beckham dress. It has been all the pages of Vogue so I know she's seen it. "Tell me Katherine bitch to bitch. Who is this man, that was the father of Snow's baby?"

She smiles a crooked smile. "Wouldn't you like to know? If Ana didn't feel compel tell you I'm sure as hell not going to."

"Then riddle me this, where is this Luke guy?"

"He had a business emergency," she says. "Listen, Lulu, we can go back and forth about who's jealous of who, the way I see it we each have our jealous streaks. Who cares, either way Ana is at the center. And as much as you want to throw shade at me, it is you that need to look in the mirror. You need to see her as a grown woman and not a Disney character."

I swallow my tears. "She's as close to a child that I will ever have which is why I can't sit by and let her self-destruct," I say

"So then tell me the rest of your plan," Kate says, her demeanor towards me softening some.

"I want her to get counseling. I already have the name of the person."

"Counseling." A small voice behind me murmurs. Swiveling I find Snow standing at the edge of her door.

"Yes, sweetie you need to talk to someone other than the people you already know."

"What I need is my baby," she whimpers and I rush to her side.

I grab her shoulders. "Snow, this is exactly why you need to see someone."

Kate clears her throat. "I'm going to step out so you two can talk," she says.

Twisting my head, I peek over my shoulder. "Thank you, Katherine," I say and I release Snow so we can walk to the sofa.

I change the subject. "So where would you like to have the baby items donated?"

She wipes her face. "To a woman's shelter." Her voice is shaky.

"Great, we'll take care of it today," I say. "So why didn't you go to classes today?"

"I didn't feel like going," she says.

"Okay. Why haven't you been talking?" I ask, but she doesn't respond. "See you don't know why. Talking to someone will help you figure all this out.

"I don't want to forget my baby," she says her bottom lip quivering.

I run my knuckles along her face. "I don't know if you will, but I do know you have to start living again," I say

She shrugs her shoulders. "Living. I don't even know what that is anymore," she says.

"That is why you need to see someone."

* * *

"Here you go ma'am, your receipt for your taxes," the driver from the shelter says.

"Thank you," she says escorting him to the door. "Well, I guess Lulu coming wasn't a waste after all," she says snickering. As she's about to leave the door, there's another knock.

The young man holds up his clipboard. "Flowers for an Anastasia Steele," he says reading from it. Kate takes the large bouquet that almost covers her face.

"From who?" I yell from where I'm perched on the sofa.

He checks his clipboard again. "A Mr. Grey," he says. My ears perk up and my spine grows straighter.


	32. Chapter 32 Open My Heart

Chapter 32: Open My Heart

**Disclaimer:** FSOG belongs to EL James

**A/N:** Believe it or not I had this chapter written last Tuesday with the intention of posting a surprise chapter immediately after posting chapter 31. See how well that turned out, the lack of time and my slow editing got in the way. But I'm going to try and get back to posting twice a week...I'll just shorten the chapter if I can. I'm long winded apparently I write like I talk way too much

Thank you for reading, reviewing, and following- Enjoy

The smile hidden behind my gloomy exterior quickly slips when I realize the flowers are not from him. Deeply disappointed I toss the card onto the sofa like an ungrateful petulant child and storm to my room, ignoring Kate's pleas. Sagging against the door, I trying to swallow my disappointment; Elliot, the flowers were from Elliot I think to myself as I gently bang the back of my head against the door.

Sniffling, I dig into my jean pocket finding the business card Lulu had given to me. Studying it carefully I come to the only conclusion I can, so peeling my back off of the door I drag myself further into the room. Finding my phone, I the make the call that I'd deemed as unnecessary a few short hours ago, but I now see as the port in the storm.

* * *

**2 weeks later**

I try to listen intently to Nick as he apologizes, but the students racing to class and buzzing past us is distracting me. "I was drunk and showing off in front of my friends; as a result, I acted horribly towards you. My actions were beyond deplorable, not to mentioned; I'd said some vile things that were offensive to you and women everywhere. So please accept my apology." He's sufficiently contrite and this time around the ap ology feels heartfelt and less contrived.

I give him a polite smile. "I can't speak for all women, but I accept your apology. And I won't lie, my boyfriend's fist to your face had given me some level of satisfaction so even without your apology I'd been okay," I say, smirking. "Still, I appreciate it."

He breathes a sigh of relief and rubs his jaw. "Yeah, he has a pretty good left hook," he says grimacing.

Nick and I shake hands, putting the whole ordeal behind us, so I head to the double doors of the lecture hall buoyed by something positive. It's a miniscule win, considering the mountain of problems in my life, but I'll take it. However, when I step through the doors, inexplicably my good mood fades when I see Luke propped against the door of his jeep out front. I wasn't expecting him until the weekend so hiding my ambivalence; I bounce down the steps taking them two at a time.

I come to a standstill in front of him. "Luke. What are you doing here?"

Reaching for me, he grabs my forearm, jerking me to him. "Hi," he rasps as I collide with his chest.

Cognizant of the students and professors meandering, I plead to him with my eyes. "Hi," I stammer, embarrassed by our public display of affection. Our mouths are close enough to kiss so I can imagine how X-rated the scene must look to gawking passersby.

Adding to my discomfort, Luke doubles down and wraps his arms around me. "Come back to the Heathman with me," he whispers huskily.

"Luke, I'm scheduled to work," I murmur, "I wasn't expecting to you see you today."

"Well, I'm here so come with me," he presses.

I push back against him. "Luke I can't."

His arms fall away. "Are you avoiding me?"

I huff. "Luke, that's an unfair question. I'm scheduled to work; you're the one that showed up unexpectedly," I say a little too harshly.

I'm so close I can see his nostrils flaring. "Forgive me for wanting to have some physical contact with my girlfriend; a fuck or if I'm lucky a fucking real kiss," he seethes.

I inhale sharply. "Wow Luke, do you really want to have this private conversation in public. On a sidewalk on a college campus," I say sardonically.

"I would love to have it in private, but when. You talk to Kate. You talk to your friends from Harvard. You talk to the mailman. To avoid talking to me, you talk to everybody; I'm just the pathetic puppy that follows you around waiting for your left overs," he says bitterly.

Wincing, I step back slightly. "Luke, I'm sorry, but I really can't do this now. I have to go to work, and if I don't leave right this minute, I'll be late," I mutter.

With the back of his foot, he pushes off on the door. "Fuck it," he barks and storms off to the driver's side, brushing past me.

Wracked with guilt, I stand with my feet glued to the cement watching as he drives away. Then adjusting my backpack, and collecting my thoughts I walk to my Beetle. Slamming the door, I rest my hands on the steering wheel trying to determine if I should go to work, go to Luke, or go to my therapist. Thankfully, my Beetle knows me, I didn't have to think about it too hard, it makes the decision for me automatically turning in the direction of Clayton's.

"Ana," Mrs. Clayton calls, racing from around the counter to greet me; as soon as, I step foot into the store.

I start to apologize, but she stops me, informing me that they were forced to close the store early due to some sort of electrical malfunction. So with my night free after all, I drive to the Heathman to hopefully make amends with Luke.

Walking up to his suite I rehearse the speech I'd crafted on the drive over, so with it fresh in my mind, I knock. However, when Luke opens the door everything inside my head liquefies. His bare chest and the happy trail peeking through his low slung jeans sends me into a free fall. "What are you doing here?" he asks, his agitation is palpable and with his eyes searing into me, he casually rests a forearm against the door frame.

God, he's so hot; how is it possible that I can feel nothing? I close my eyes for a second to think and open them when I finally get a coherent thought in my head. "Are you going to let me in?" I say. Hesitating for a second, Luke steps to the side and gestures with his hand for me enter. I stop at the edge of the main room; my anxiety is creeping up on me; it's the first time I've been alone with him in a hotel room since the miscarriage. "There was some kind of electrical problem at the store," I say rambling.

Coming up from behind, Luke intentionally grazes my arm as he stalks to the entertainment center for the remote. Turning off the TV, he stares intently at me. "That doesn't answer my question, so let me ask you again. Why are you here Ana?" There is no trace of a smile on his face, and his sullen demeanor has me doubting my decision to come.

"To see you," I say faintly.

He tosses the remote to the sofa. "Then what?" He shrugs his strong, broad shoulders making every muscle in his chest flex. He then takes a step towards me. "More small talk." Another step. The bulge in the front of his pants is steadily growing. "Hand holding." He smirks and takes another step forward. "Or maybe you'll actually let me kiss you this time." Closing the distance between us Luke cups my chin rubbing the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip.

I swallow the lump at the base of my throat to dampen down my fears. Luke senses my uneasiness and releases me. "Luke, what do you want?" I say breathlessly.

He holds my gaze. "I want to fuck you," he says huskily. His voice is raw and full of need; it makes me flinch. "What do you want?" he asks sweetly, softening his tone some.

I close my eyes. "I don't know," I say honestly as they slowly open.

"I'd settle for having my girlfriend back. Ana, I don't recognize you anymore and baby it's killing me," he murmurs.

I take a deep breath. "Is it the sex?" I say softly.

Luke scoffs at the question. "If only it were that simple. I'd pay for it or call up any number of women in Seattle or here if all I wanted was sex. It's so much more than that. It's the connection to you I miss the most," he says adamantly. "That's what I want back."

"I'm trying Luke," I whimper.

He has a pained look on his face. "Why, it used to come naturally?" He raises his hand to touch my face, and I close my eyes in anticipation, but his touch never comes. "I thought we'd worked through my poorly timed proposal and were back to normal," he says.

I stare into his soulful blue eyes. "Luke, I had a miscarriage, and it has changed me. I'm not the same girl you fell in love with. The person you don't recognize is the new version of me, and she's our new normal," I whisper and I'm saddened by the pain filling his eyes.

"Take off of your jacket." I follow his instructions and Luke takes it from me draping it over the back of the chair. He then extends his hand to me and taking my sweaty palm he leads me to the bedroom where I freeze when I see the bed. As I start backpedaling, Luke breaks our connection and rests his hands on my shoulders. "Baby, you're actually shaking," he says unbelievingly, as he lovingly caresses my arms.

"Luke I don't know if I can do this," I pant, and he removes his hands.

He holds up his finger and shows its to me so I won't be frighten, then he moves it to under my chin gently nudging it. "Please don't be afraid of me, I'm already wounded. Do you want to kill me?" he whispers, and his finger falls away. "I love you and would kill myself before I hurt you," he says sincerely.

"Luke," I say breathlessly. I want to say more, but the words get trapped on my tongue.

The touch I'd anticipated earlier, comes; he caresses the side of my face. "You will always be the girl I fell in love with. Because I fell in love with your heart, your mind, and your soul; your body is simply the vessel that is entrusted with protecting them," he says reverently, alleviating some of my nerves, making it easier for him to coax me further into the room. Reaching the bed, Luke sits down on the edge and stares up at me devotedly. "Trust me," he whispers as he starts undoing the button on my jeans.

"Yes," I manage to get out as a fresh surge of trepidation grips me. Luke pauses, giving me the time to relax, before moving on to my zipper. Closing my eyes, I pant as he slowly eases it down, being careful not to skim the patch of bare skin.

Feeling him sliding down the edge of the bed, my eyes fly open and I cast them downward following him as he goes to his knees shimming my jeans down the length of my legs taking them with him. Kneeling, Luke lifts my feet one at a time inching the jeans over my sneakers. Discarding them to the side, he then removes the sneakers adding them to the pile.

Coming to his feet, that familiar wicked smile forms on his lips and with his eyes he beckons for me to hold my arms up in the air. Maintaining his eye contact with me, Luke grasps the hem of my t-shirt and starts rolling, remaining mindful of any naked flesh. Bringing the shirt over my head, he tosses it to the growing pile. When he's finished with me, I'm left only in my bra and panties.

Tilting backward, he drinks in my partially nude body. "There are no words," Luke whispers, "you are so beautiful." His eyes are so dark from lust they're almost navy. Aroused, scared, but mainly uncertain, I'm uncomfortable with how he's hungrily worshiping my body.

To dampen down my rising anxiety, I focus on his bare feet. "Hmm," I sigh audibly unable to stifle my noises

Luke leans into me. "Relax," he whispers. With his eyes trained on me, Luke reaches a hand back feeling for the sheet. Gripping it, he yanks on it pulling it down and remaining in his jeans, he crawls up on the bed taking me down onto it with him.

Getting comfortable, he spoons me as he buries his head in my hair. "I love you," he murmurs.

I close my eyes struggling to keep the tears back. "I love you too," I whisper.

* * *

Sitting on the now familiar cream sofa, I watch as Dr. Ryan loses herself in her notes; I can see her forehead crinkling through her chic pixie haircut.

Dr. Ryan is an attractive woman in her mid to late thirties with a round face and big blues that disarms you. But she's far from charming, the woman is a verbal assassin; she'll annihilate you with her words. She gives it to you straight, no chaser to paraphrase Kate and despite this straightforwardness, I think she is the right therapist for me. She reminds of Lulu and Kate, so she should psycho-analyze why I surround myself with women of the same ilk, when I'm so different.

"Anastasia," Dr. Ryan calls, getting my attention "How are you today? You seem preoccupied."

I blink. "Sorry, "I say, "I can't stop staring at your haircut. I like it," I confess

She shifts in her seat. "Well thank you and no need to apologize." Leisurely, she crosses her legs. "So where would you like to start today?"

"My reoccurring dream."

"Alright, what about it?" she says.

I mirror her pose and cross my legs. "You'll be glad to know I think I might've had a breakthrough," I say.

"Good. Now we're getting somewhere," she says clutching her pen and pad, eager to jot down my latest revelation.

I uncross my legs and get comfortable. "It started out in much the same way it usually does," I say.

This time, Dr. Ryan mirrors me and uncrosses her legs. "And," she prompts, in that derisive way she gets when she wants me to get to the point. Too bad, because I need to do this slowly.

I stare blankly ahead, to avoid making eye contact with her. "The small child was running," I say taking another pause.

Visibly frustrated, Dr. Ryan slides her glasses down the bridge of her nose stopping at the tip. "Anastasia is it your plan to dole out the information in dribs and drabs because the methodical approach is taking up our time. I'd like to be able to evaluate your breakthrough. So, I ask that you please just spit it out," she says and then she nudges the glasses back up on her nose. "Now. Let's try this again. You were saying." She's condescending, but she has a point. My time with her is limited.

I take a deep breath. "Finally, the face was revealed. At first it was a gory skeletal image but instantly it morphed into a precious cherubic face baby, who was the carbon copy of Christian and me, essentially confirming that the dream was about my baby." Overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotion, I stop. "Sorry, I need a moment," I say trying to stifle a sob.

Leaning forward Dr. Ryan hands me a box of tissue. "Here you, go," she says.

I grab a few. "Thank you," I say dabbing at my eyes.

"You're welcome." Straightening up, she reaches behind her setting the box back down on the desk.

More composed, I continue. "The baby smiled angelically at me and touched his chubby little fingers to my tear stained face and said, 'Mommie I love you,' before the image dissolved." Unpreventable, my voice cracks.

Dr. Ryan looks from me to her notes. "So it was a boy?" She asks, for clarification sake.

"The gender wasn't revealed, and that's okay."

"Have you had another one since?"

"It's too soon to know for sure, but I think this was the farewell dream; my baby's way of letting me know he was happy and that it was okay for me to let go."

Dr. Ryan removes her glasses and taps the tip to her bottom lip. "Very astute. I think you did an admirable job analyzing what was a very complex dream with many layers. Dreams are not my specialty; however, I would like to take a stab at interpreting this one. "

I nod my head. "Please, I would love to hear your professional opinion," I say.

"I think it's very telling that you recognized your breakthrough, because most people don't. From our first session, I'd suspected that your miscarriage as tragic and devastating as it was for you wasn't what brought you to my office. It was simply the cover; ultimately it was your other underlying demons that led you here. I'd been waiting for you to come to that conclusion on your own and that's what this breakthrough signifies. The dreams were never about your baby really; they were about you. The manifestation of your subconscious that created this safe environment for you to deal with the tragedy of the miscarriage along with processing the demons you're struggling with."

I raise my hand like I'm in class. "Ahem," I say so I can get her attention.

"Yes, Anastasia."

"I'm confused. If it wasn't about the baby, what's the significance of the baby and the good bye?"

"Consider it a messenger, relaying your inner thoughts. In the end, it was you, giving yourself the approval to move on. You'd endured the pain of grief and you'd gotten to the other side of it and you've reached a point where you feel comfortable in tackling these underlying issues," she says.

I smirk. "I guess my interpretation wasn't so good after all," I say.

"No, it was spot on, recognizing your breakthrough that was the biggest take away. The fact that you were open to freely seeing and receiving that message speaks volume to where you are in your journey.

I wipe my eyes. "Sorry," I say fanning my eyes, "I didn't expect to cry."

She gives me reassuring smiles. "If you don't mind I'd like to take advantage of this momentum." She peeks at her watch. "We still have the time, so would you like to speak to what's bothering you or shall I just continue?"

"I'll leave it to you, my emotions are too raw." I say folding up the used tissue.

She glances at her notes. "Okay then. I have divided your underlying issues into three categories; Karla Steele, Luke Sawyer, and Christian Grey," she says matter of factly, "all your problems are rooted in three people."

My tears immediately dry up, and I look at her dumbfounded. "Really," I say swallowing the curse words I want to rain down on her.

"So is that a question?" She asks sarcastically.

I roll my eyes. "No, but I'm sure I'll have some later. Right now I'm interested in seeing where you're going with this," I hiss.

"Good. First we'll need to establish a baseline so I'll either ask you a baseline question about each category- "

I snort. "Category," I blurt out interrupting her. "That what's we're calling them now; categories and not people," I say sarcastically.

She stares at me. "For this exercise the titles are interchangeable. So, as I was saying I will simply tell you what the baseline is; such is the situation with your mother. Other times I will ask the question to gather the information from you. With that being said, you'll need to find out if your mother is dead or alive-"

"What!" I screech cutting her off again.

She sighs audibly. "You seem to be making a habit out of cutting me off. But that doesn't change anything. Your mother is at the core of your problems. I know it's cliquish, but in your case it's true. And the notion that you do not care if she's dead or alive is ludicrous. For one she's your mother and despite how despicable she was to you that's what she will always be; its nature's cruel trick."

I pout. "Still my mother isn't a topic I want to deal with," I grumble

"Maybe so, but it's time you did. The denial is holding you back. You have a heart, a soul and conviction that makes you better than she is so start acting like it. Caring doesn't make you weak; it makes you human," she lectures, then without skipping a beat she moves on. "Now the baseline questions for Mr. Sawyer and Mr. Grey." This woman is out for my blood today. "We'll start with Mr. Sawyer since you're currently in a relationship with him. Tell me how you feel about Mr. Luke Sawyer," she says.

I breathe a sigh of relief, something easy. "I love him," I respond quickly.

She jots that down. "Same question. Tell me how you feel about Mr. Christian Grey."

Now the curve ball, I didn't expect the same for Christian. "That's more complicated," I say.

"A good thing we have the time," she says sardonically

Wistful, I continue. "I'm devastated that he never called me when he found out about the miscarriage because it meant, that he was sincere. He never cared about the baby or me. Times like these make me so angry I can strangle him." I stand up and walk to the window. It's a nice crisp winter day, and the scenery outside is calming. "At other times, my heart hurts just thinking about him. I've been smitten with him forever. He was my fantasy come to life, and it confuses me because I think I conflate the two. I don't know where the fantasy ends and reality begins and vice versa. Making things more complicated, like my mother, Christian has done some unforgivable things to me. Some would categorize them as cruel, and I know I should despise him. Sometimes I do, but sometimes I don't." I spin around to face her. "Mostly, I just don't let myself feel. It's safer that way," I mumble, and come back to my seat.

Dr. Ryan studies me for a moment, then glances back at her pad. "Okay, let's go back to Mr. Sawyer, the man you said you loved."

I glare at her. "Why are you mocking my feelings for Luke?"

"I'm not, you did," she says cockily, "I asked you how you felt about him." Glancing down she peeps at her notes. "You gave me a three-word response," she says whipping her head forward and pinning me with her stare. "And when I asked the same question of Mr. Grey, you gave me a soliloquy."

"The three words I gave were the most important three words and the best answer to the question," I snarl.

Dr. Ryan sits back in her chair as if she's sitting in judgment of me. "Here's the thing Anastasia, true love isn't about the best answer, it is about the right answer. But I'd suspect you already know this, you just conveniently choose to ignore it so you can justify maintaining a relationship with Luke that you know you should end."

"No," I snap. "You've crossed the line; you don't get to tell me who I can date. I won't allow you to minimize my relationship with Luke, by reducing it down to three words. By the way when I did 'I love you' become blasphemy? "

"When it's a lie," she quips.

I start gathering my stuff. "I'm done."

"Anastasia sit and stop running. It's why you're in this quagmire in the first place, looking for the easy fix. You need to put in the work; we're not staying with the status quo. You're a brilliant 18- year old young woman and it's time for you to strengthen your mind to match that brain. Face it, your relationship with Luke isn't founded in love; but this isn't news to you, it's why you turned down his proposal."

I stare blankly at her. "You're off base; it's not why I said no."

"Then sit back down and tell me why, I'm listening," she says goading me.

Dropping my purse and backpack, I sit back down, but the funny thing I can't find the words to refute her accusations. Dr. Ryan is smirking; she knows she's won this round.

"Anastasia, you don't' have to look so dejected or angry at me. You're afraid. For most women your predicament would be enviable; torn between two incredible men. From all account, Luke Sawyer seems like quite the catch. And Christian Grey is well, Christian Grey. The man is the epitome of Mr. perfect with the titles to back it up; People Magazine's most beautiful, Country's most eligible bachelor, and Billionaire Entrepreneur just to name a few. And in as much as, I don't think you're in love with Luke, I'm not convinced that you're in love with Christian either. I'd suspect, you're more in love with his myth than the man," she says. "So this exercise isn't about freeing you up for Christian Grey. That would be ill-advised and negligent of me. This is about you." She points.

* * *

**CPOV**

I find Grace in the library engrossed in a book; tossing my jacket down on the sofa I sneak up on her. "Mother," I say.

Startled, she clamps the book closed, almost catching her finger. "Christian," she shrieks, "Sweetheart, you scared me," she says reaching up to hug me. "I didn't expect you so early."

She releases me, and immediately I start loosening my tie. "My meeting ended early and since I was already on this side of town I had Sawyer drive me over, instead of going all the way to Escala and coming back here."

Grace sets the book down on the desk and then smiling mischievously at me she reaches up and actually pinches my cheeks. I should've known she was up to something, by the glint in her eyes. "My gain," she says sweetly releasing my jaws. "I've hardly seen you, in recent months."

"Mom," I chuckle. "I can't believe you just did that."

"Why not you're my baby boy," she smirks. "Stay here, so I can let Gretchen know you'll be staying for dinner." Pausing, she looks back at me. "By the way, where's Taylor?"

"Sophie had a recital." She rolls her eyes up in her head. "What's that about?" I inquire

"Your sister will go nuts when she finds out that Luke is here, she has the biggest crush on him."

"Trust me. Luke won't get within a mile of Mia," I say emphatically

"It's not Luke I'm worried about." She turns and just as she's exiting the room, Luke is entering. So they exchange pleasantry and keep moving.

"Mr. Grey," Luke says.

"Luke," I say pulling the tie through my shirt collar. "Did you happen to see my sister?"

He grimaces. "No sir."

I chuckle. Seeing his expression, I soften my stance. "Why the sour face?"

"No offense sir. Your sister is adorable, but she can be a bit aggressive."

"No offense taken, but just so we're clear, my sister is off limit."

"Yes, sir. You don't have to worry about me; I'm too preoccupied right now."

I pour myself a drink. "Same girl?" I ask as I put the top back on the decanter.

"How did you know I was talking about a woman?" he asks.

I knock back the amber liquid. "I can hear it in your voice," I say, and I pour myself another drink. "Women." I hold up the glass. "You can't live with 'em-" Luke breaks in and repeats the adage with me. When we get to the end, we have a hearty laugh and with my drink ensconced in my hand, I motion for him to follow me to the wing chairs in the corner. "However, there is one woman I can live without."

"I bet I know who," he says.

"I'm sure you do. So what's the update on Leila Williams?

"Like Taylor said, every time the trail gets hot, and then it goes cold."

"Well Sawyer, I want her found. She's running fucking circles around you guys, who are highly trained, and highly paid I might add. I've had enough; I expect better," I say slamming my empty glass down to the game table.

I see my mom, hovering at the door, and I wave her in. "Sweetie, I'm sorry I didn't know you were in a meeting," she says.

"No mom, you're good." Sawyer is finding it hard to stifle his grin. My team gets a kick out of how my mom can so easily turn me into a cream puff. "Show some dignity, Luke," I mumble jokingly.

"Yes sir," he sniggers.

I nod. "We can discuss this later," I say to him.

As Sawyer leaves, Grace enters. "So Christian do you want to stay here or go up front?" she asks.

"Here is fine," I say, and we walk to the sofa.

We sit down at the same time. "Your dad is going to be late, and since you're earlier than expected, I thought we'd go ahead and get started. Besides Carrick knows everything. So by the time he gets home we can just visit."

"Fine with me. So mom what do you have on your mind?"

"For starters, we're thinking of moving the Gala back to the summer."

"Okay, but summer is right around the corner."

"The quick turnaround won't be a problem, the second change will present us with the biggest challenge. We're thinking about inviting the children from the center. So what's old is new again," she says, and I nod my head in agreement. "Ana was devastated when she'd learned that we'd eliminated the children from the Gala, so it got me to thinking, why not do something about it." She's almost giddy. It's obvious that she's very proud of herself for being able to do something for Anastasia and I wish I shared in her enthusiasm.

My phone beeps and I can't pick it up fast enough. "Mom, I need to take this," I say nearly leap from the sofa. Thank fuck for the interruption, I didn't want to have to debate the merits of the idea with Grace.

"Okay," she says waving a hand at me.

I step into the hallway. "Grey."

"Master."

"Corinna," I snap. My voice is gruff; I'm agitated but not her. I could use her distraction tonight.

"You told me to call you when I got in. My flight was early, so I'm back in Seattle now," she says coquettishly.

"Meet me at Escala in an hour." I end the call and text Sawyer.

"Christian is everything okay; you look tense," mom says when I reenter the library.

"I'm fine, but unfortunately, I have to head back to Escala; a last minute conference call."

She frowns. "You're going to miss dad and Mia," she says, and then her lips curl up into a smile. "I know. You can come back this weekend, Elliot will be here too." I try to hide my dissatisfaction; Elliot is the last person I want to see.

"I'll check my calendar." I won't, but she doesn't have to know. "By the way, I know you want to make Anastasia happy, but you need to think about the kid idea, before you move forward," I say getting my subtle knock in before leaving.

Luke is pulling the SUV around just as I'm coming down the steps. To save time, I motion for him to stay inside and I open my own door. Sliding in the back, I rest my head against the comfortable headrest and relax for a moment. Then I pull out my phone, checking my texts for a message from Andrea. Nothing so I slip it back into my pocket.

"Luke."

"Sir."

"Corinna is taking a taxi to Escala, so I'll need you to take her home," I pause, "she shouldn't be any more than a couple of hours." Two hours is all I will need; I already have the scene planned out. It will be intense and short. She has a high pain threshold; a good thing because she will need it tonight.

"Yes, sir," he says.

Exiting the elevator, I dump my jacket and brief case on a stool at the breakfast bar. "Sawyer." He's trailing me so close, I only have to turn my head to see him. "When Miss S…" I catch myself, before I say, Steele. "When Miss Sterling arrives, escort her upstairs. You know where the key is located for the playroom." I give him his instructions and grab a handful of the grapes from the fruit bowl on the breakfast counter.

"Yes sir, I do," he says, and I make my way down the hall popping grapes into my mouth as I go.

I pause at my office door but decide against going inside, it will only sidetrack me and Corinna will be here shortly. Opening the bedroom door, I start removing my shirt, and once I enter my walk in closet, I toss it along with my t shirt into the hamper marked dry cleaning. Toeing off my shoes, I inspect the closet for my playroom jeans, I had Gale launder them, and she didn't put them back in there exact spot.

Finally, I see the jeans on the top shelf, but first to remove to my sock, I go the bench. Standing up, I roll my neck from side to side cracking it, trying to get the kink out, before retrieving the jeans. I'll be so damn glad, when Flynn gets back from his trip around the world, which I'm sure financed, considering all the man hours he'd spent patching me together just so I can be fit to roam about in public.

Unbuckling my belt, I reach up for the faded worn jeans and something comes tumbling down just missing my head before landing on the floor. Abandoning the jeans, I squat to pick up the deadly object which, in fact, isn't deadly at all. I recognize it as the old tattered box Anastasia thrusted into my chest at the end of our first brutal fight. Contemplating going back to the bench, I decide on the floor. So dropping down right where I am, I pull my feet together and start inspecting the weathered box. The phrase I'd quoted her on that first night I'd met her was etched on top of the lid; the aging calligraphy is amateurish and childlike so clearly it was done when she was much younger. Rubbing my fingers over the letters, I let them linger feeling the groove of each alphabet. Lifting my hand, I run it through my hair and hold my breath before flipping the lid up. I'm not sure what I was expecting to find, but the inside is fairly empty. Only a few items at the bottom, and only one is substantial in size.

The intercom beeps. Agitated that my exploration has been interrupted, sighing I come to my feet and step to the wall answering it." Sawyer."

"Sir, I wanted to inform you that Miss Sterling is upstairs in your playroom." The words roll off his tongue; as if, such a room is commonplace.

"Give me ten 10 minutes and then show her to my office." I change the plan; my stubborn mood calls for something harder and more intense and even shorter. The box tucked away safely under my arm, I find my same spot on the floor and start rummaging through it.

A dried rose, I smile fondly recalling the memory. Gently setting it down on the floor next to me, I move on to the next item. It's not something I recognize, so I put it back. However, the final item is very familiar and the largest. It happens to be the words of "Angel," that appears to have been downloaded from the internet. Quietly reading them, I'm reminded of her innocent hug from that night. Unfurling my legs, I let the memory wash over me; the little girl I was sent to save...saved me.

Having gone through everything, I now understand why the old relic is so important to her and it's sad really. It's a reminder of the one moment of happiness, she'd experienced in her young life. And it is then that realization dawns on me, shining a bright light on what's been in front of me whole time. "Fuck me," I mumble and the box slips out of my hand, and I stare at the aged tattered clues scattered about me.

It's all so clear. It's me. I'm the connection to the mismatch of seemingly worthless trinkets before me. Not the Gala. It's always been about me. I'd managed to make her happy once; maybe twice and I wonder if she'd memorialized that night in the same way. Of course not, how could she? She saved nothing, she left it all behind for me to pick up; the ten thousand dollars, the necklace, and even the million dollars I'd deposited into her bank account. In the end, the things that held the most monetary value held no value to her. It wasn't about the money. It never was; I'd gotten it wrong.

Coming to my feet, I leave the box and it's contents where they are and reach for my jeans. Still reeling, I exit the closet and trudge to my office. I should send Corinna home, it would be the right thing to do; but when was the last time I'd done the right thing?

Resting the back of my head against my office chair, I wait for Corinna. She's late, and it doesn't even matter to me. I needed the extra time to focus, to pretend I wanted to be here. "Late," I snap when the door opens, and she's standing at the threshold.

Her eyes downcast, she steps further inside. "Yes sir, I'm sorry," she says apologetically. Normally I'd punish her mightily for such a transgression, but tonight I could give a fuck. "Remove your robe and kneel by me," I order. The scene is changed yet again.

Hurriedly, Corinna gets into place and rests her hands on her thighs. Her long dark hair cascades down her back, but I don't bother with braiding it; there's no need. This won't take long. Pushing my chair back from the desk, I swivel so she's face to face with the bulge in my jeans. "Suck my dick," I command.

Kneeling and eyes downcast, Corinna hustles closer to me. She then sticks her hand inside my jeans, fishing for my cock and I let my head roll back. My dick in her hand, Corinna starts licking me like I'm a lollipop. Any other night, I'd enjoy being savored, but not tonight. Bringing my head forward, I cup the back of her head forcing her down on me. "I said suck," I seethe.

Removing my hand, I brace the side of my chair, as she sucks the hell out of my dick. Lifting my ass from the seat, I fuck her mouth as best I can in the position I'm in. This is what separates Corinna from my other Subs, she can suck a cock almost as good as Elena. Deep throating me, she brings me to a mind blowing orgasm. Panting, I bring my hand forward resting it on the back of her head, holding her in place as I fill her mouth. I wait for Corinna to swallow and milk me dry, and then I tug on her hair forcing her mouth off me.

"Good girl," I say gearing up for the next round. Digging in the drawer, I pull out a condom and lube. "Against the wall," I order.

Gracefully, she comes to her feet befitting the prima ballerina she is. Daintily, Corinna rests her palm against the wall and walking up to her I nudge her feet further apart. And then running my hand up her thighs, I rub against her throbbing clitoris. She moans, and I lean so my front is flush with her back. I then whisper in her ear. "I'm going to fuck your ass," I murmur, and I bite her earlobe.

She groans. "Yes, master. Please."

Standing straighter, I can't resist giving her ass a hard smack. The sound reverberates around the room, and it's just what I needed. I tilt my head back so I can inspect the rose blooming on her cheeks. Then running a finger along the seam of her ass, I plunge it into the small puckered hole.

"Oh Master," she purrs, and she starts grinding.

Winding her hair around my hand, I yank on it pulling her to me. "I didn't say you could talk," I warn. Releasing her hair, I quickly roll the condom on my cock and rub lube all over it and then her ass. Lining my erection up, I breach the small hole before slamming into her.

"Oh Master," Corinna cries out but I don't let up. If she doesn't use her safe word, I'm not taking it easy with her.

Holding on to her waist, I pick up the pace and thrust harder and harder into her. The more she screams out the harder I go. The tightness of her muscles is gripping my dick like a vice. "Fuck," I grunt as my orgasm courses through me.

I collapse on top of Corinna. "Shit." She's still in my head.

* * *

**Luke POV**

"Luke," Ana says as if she doesn't recognize my voice.

"It better be, unless there's someone else that calls you baby," I say angrily

"Sorry, you sounded strange. You're talking so low. What are you doing?"

I sigh. "Babysitting my fucking boss," I seethe.

"That's sounds wrong on so many levels," she giggles.

I'm delighted to hear that laugh, but it isn't why I called. "It's not what you think, he busily fucking his brain out. Meanwhile, my dick is throbbing since it hasn't seen a pussy in weeks," I say more harshly than I'd intended. I can hear her breathing, but she says nothing. "Ana, are you still there?"

"Yes. I'm sorry," she says, and I know she's remorseful, but that doesn't help my situation.

"Then let's do something about it," I say snidely.

She's hesitant. "What did you have in mind?"

"Get me off. If you won't let me fuck you, then it's the least you can do."

"Luke," she says, and from her tone I can tell she's about to protest.

"Baby, you can at least do this for me. I'm already holding my fucking dick in my hand."

"Where are you?" she ask incredulously.

I sigh in exasperation. "Stop worrying, there's no kinky shit going on here. The place is huge."

She acquiesces. "Okay, give me a moment to get to my bedroom."

"Are you there yet?" I ask impatiently.

"Yes I am," she says.

"Are you just telling me what I want to hear?"

"Luke, I'm in my room. In the bed," she snaps.

"I want you to participate so stick your hand in your pants as I play with my cock."

"Oh yes," she moans.

"Oh baby, how I miss that sound," I say.

"What's next," she asks,

"I'm squeezing my dick, so I want you to stick two fingers inside your wetness."

"Ugh," she groans.

"Baby, you're killing me. If I don't get to fuck you soon, I'm going to kill myself," I grunt sliding my hand up and down my shaft squeezing my erection as I go. "Oh fuck, I'm coming." I groan.

"So am I," she moans.

I can hear the intercom coming through "Baby I gotta go," I say hurriedly, and I end the call.

"Luke."

"Yes sir," I say at I grab the Kleenex and start cleaning myself up.

"Miss Sterling is on her to the playroom to get dressed. Give her 15 minutes then take her home."

* * *

"So Anastasia do you have anything to report?" Dr. Ryan asks as she finishes reviewing my notes.

"Yes. My mom is alive." My voice is cold and empty.

"That was fast."

"Yep. My dad had been tracking her but stopped when I told him I didn't care anymore. However, he kept up with his contact."

"Your stepfather is a good man. So let's move on to the next steps. They are simple really, just two options. Either try to establish a relationship with her or don't."

"My knee jerk reaction is to choose the latter, but you were right I need to stop running and do the work. So let me think about it some more," I say.

"Sure. Well, this is quite a turn around. You sound very mature and determined," she says.

"More like resigned," I say.

"Well, I'll take it either way. So any development on the Luke front."

"I spent the night with him," I say.

"And"

"He was partially dressed, and I had on my lingerie. We just held each other; it was so beautiful. I feel like I'm getting back in sync with him. And just last night we had phone sex." I'm hopeful that she'll see this as a positive and back off the whole Luke thing.

"And how would describe the phone sex?"

I fidget with my hands. "It wasn't beautiful if that's what you're implying, but it was necessary. I was able to experience an orgasm so at least I know I'm not frigid," I say

She snorts. "I'm sure this whole playacting has been entertaining for Luke; going from sex in every way possible way to cuddling and phone sex," she says sarcastically.

"It may sound trivial to you, but it is progress," I say emphatically.

"That it is, but it is also unfair to Luke."

"So, sleep with him?" I ask incredulously.

"Anastasia, you're not married to him and I'm not a brothel, so the sex doesn't matter to me. Sleep with him or don't sleep with him, it's your prerogative. But I can promise you, it won't change anything, except muddy it up and prolong the inevitable." She's straightforward as usual.

I whimper. "Is breaking up with Luke really the only option."

"Anastasia, you know my recommendation."

She leans forward and puts a hand on my knee. "Anastasia, this is only my recommendation. Like you pointed out, I'm not judge, jury and executioner. I don't get to choose who you love. But as your doctor, I can tell you who you don't." She straightens up. "At least not at this time in your life. This doesn't mean that I believe in that whole if you love them set them free bullshit; I fall more into the 'Luck' camp."

"Luck, that sounds cold," I say.

"Not when you, abide by the definition that luck happens when preparation and opportunity meet. You have to put in the work, so when the opportunity presents itself, you can accept it. Like now. Luke is your opportunity, but you didn't put in the preparation," she says, and I worry my bottom lip because I don't know what else to do.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and hold my head down. "I know you're right, but this is so hard," I wine

"Anastasia I'm going to be very frank with you, you're playing a dangerous game. You're keeping a huge secret from him, and if I were you, I'd get out before it blows up in my face."

_Now what if I choose the wrong the thing to do, I'm so afraid, afraid of disappointing you_

_Open My Heart- Yolanda Adams_


	33. Chapter 33 End of The road

**Chapter 33:** The end of the road

**Disclaimer:** FSOG belongs to E.L James

**A/N **To my loyal followers first of all thank you so much. Secondly I apologize for the long delay between posts. Like I said editing takes me a long time and honestly I don't have a lot of time to write and edit. Aside from work and my other outside commitments, I have to keep my writing to a minimum in front of my husband so the only time I have to write is late at night - translations I write often just not at long stretches of time. I'm going to try and get the chapters out faster (I'm going to see if I can fake him out by writing on my iPhone) because there as some fun stuff coming up that I can't wait for you guys to read...but then again it could be more exciting for me than you...Stay tune..I'm sure you'll let me know in the reviews :). As always thank you for reading, following and reviewing. Enjoy

* * *

I exit the bathroom wearing nothing, stopping Luke in his track and he eyes me as if he's seeing me for the first time. His heated gaze scorches my skin as his eyes rake over my body. And if the situation with us weren't so tenuous, I'd revel in the way he's worshipping me, but because of the dark cloud looming my reaction to him is more subdued. So, I overcompensate by putting a bit more sway in my hips when sauntering to the bed. Coquettishly peeking over one shoulder I see him trailing me with his eyes eating it up; ignorant to the impetus for the impromptu peep show.

Removing his last article of clothing, Luke tosses the briefs to the side, before hungrily stalking me to the bed. Hustling down the headboard to the sheet, I suggestively spread my legs in anticipation of him pouncing on me. Because based on how excitable he was at dinner, I'm doubtful there will be any foreplay involved in this first encounter.

Soon as, I'd agreed to come back to the Heathman with him, Luke had begun to undress me with his eyes right there at the table. However, because he was so overzealous, our attempts at canoodling up until this point had been awkward. Starting with when in the parking lot of the restaurant, he'd clumsily tried to force his tongue down my throat in front of a slew of exiting and arriving patrons ending with him aggressively clawing at me in the car knocking the gear out of position. And then when we'd arrived in the room, he'd nearly ripped my clothes off, forcing me to extricate myself from him and escaping to the bathroom giving him time to settle a bit.

The closer he gets, the massive erection jutting from between his muscular thighs captures my attention and even when the bed dips I can't look away. My eyes stay fixed on the throbbing member pulsating like it has a heartbeat of its own as he continues crawling up the bed towards me. Eventually, averting my gaze, I make eye contact with him and Luke is smirking at me; then glancing down at the thick rod, he wraps his hand around the base fisting it.

"Yes, this is what you do to me," he growls as he runs his hand up and down his length.

"Aha," I moan. Watching Luke touch himself can be just as intoxicating as the sex itself. Mesmerized by his carnal display, I focus on wringing my mind free of every negative thought until all that's lingering is my unadulterated need to be fucked by him.

Luke leans forward, and I think he's going to reach for a condom; after losing the baby I'd vowed to practice safe sex. Another baby for me is far out on the horizon; not until I'm way older or married, and hopefully the two requirements won't be exclusive of each other. Bringing me back to the moment, Luke lowers himself to me brushing his lips against mine, throwing me a curve ball. Meanwhile, his erection rubs against the inside of my upper thigh, marking me with his pre-cum. Hovering, he then plants a delicate kiss on my lips as if he's waking up a fairy princess.

And maybe I am a fairy princess, and he's the prince charming I'd been waiting for; if only this were a fairytale I'd go straight to, _and they live happily ever after; the end_. In as much as, I want that this to be make believe Luke's lips leave me, and there's no doubt that we're not in Storybook. Fluttering, my eyes open, to him. He's just a boy, I'm just a girl, and this is our reality where the path to our happily ever after leads through us; not to us.

"I love you," Luke whispers and I give him an innocuous smile. Harmless, but not endearing or loving and definitely not a smile befitting the feelings he's emoting.

Reaching above my head, this time around he does go for the condom. The foil packet in hand, kneeling between my legs Luke rabidly rips through it with his teeth. Panting, I watch warily as he rolls the latex down his erect penis; this time it's me staring as if I'm seeing him for the first time. And I don't know if it's me, but he seems larger.

I'm nervous. "It's been so long," falls out of my mouth and subconsciously, I think it's my subtle plea for him to take it easy on me.

Fisting, his cock Luke licks his lips as his eyes bore into me. "Yes, it has, that's why I'm aching to be buried in you," he says huskily. "Are you ready? " I nod my head. He gives me a wicked smile. "No, I want to hear you say it," he implores.

"Yes, I'm ready," I murmur

Luke's body starts pitching forward and I brace myself for the intrusion. But alternatively, I feel his kissable lips enveloping my mouth and shoving his tongue inside Luke roughly kisses me taking from me what he what he wants. Cupping the side of my head with his hands, he savagely deepens the kiss; all the while, his impatient, angry erection nudges me at the entrance of my wetness.

He pulls back slightly. "Baby, you taste so good," he mutters against my lips, before demandingly forcing his tongue back down my throat. Swirling my tongue over his, I let him take me away to his truth. Extricating his tongue from my mouth, Luke peppers kisses along my forehead down my cheeks to the tip of my nose. "And you smell so sweet, like pear mixed with fig," he says hoarsely.

Luke holds his head up, and I take the opportunity to run my hand over the prickly hair on his head lightly massaging his scalp. "You have a good nose for scents mister. My perfume is Anjou, French for pear and just so happen it has fig as a low note," I say demurely.

He melts into my touch. "I don't know a damn thing about notes, or scents. The only scent I care about and love to smell is yours," he murmurs, angling his head he plants a soft peck on my palm.

I giggle innocently. "Here I thought you were a Renaissance man," I say teasingly, but the lust in his eyes is unambiguous; this is not the time for comedic relief. Swatting my hand away, Luke collects my wrists in his, pinning my arms above my head.

A sinister smile creeps across his lips. "Let's see if I can quiet that giggling," he says huskily and releasing my wrists he reaches back grabbing his cock plunging it inside me.

My body violently jerks. "Oh Gawd," I cry out as my eyes squeeze shut.

"Look at me," Luke says gruffly as he slowly eases his erection back, giving me the space to open my eyes. "There. I want to see you. It's what I've been waiting for," he pants and then grunting he slams back into me.

"Ugh," I groan, "pleeease," I hiss.

Grabbing my head by the back, Luke buries it in his chest as he grinds down into me more frenetically. As Luke chases his orgasm, I'm filled with competing emotions; I want to immerse myself completely in him, yet I can't shake the ominous feeling shrouding me.

"Fuck," Luke screams as his climax hits him hot and heavy. Collapsing on top of me, he lets his orgasm course through him. I'm preoccupied with so many rival thoughts in my head competing for dominance, I'm slow to follow, but I get there.

Luke is still prostrate on top of me when I come down from my orgasm so I encircle my arms around him as I stare blankly at the ceiling. Mindlessly I start rubbing small circles on his back. The light sheen of sweat on his skin allowing my fingers to glide effortlessly. "That was so fucking good," he pants.

"Yes," I mumble, biting back my tears.

Engrossed with the nothingness that's happening overhead, I try to rid myself of the sense of foreboding. The atmosphere is saturated with the ominous feeling, suffocating me. With Luke buried inside of me I didn't have to think, my only job was to feel. It made it easier to brush aside what's on the horizon for us. But now I'm empty, and the only thing I'm left with are the thoughts filling my head and pressing on my chest crushing me. It's too much; I can't take it anymore, the dam is about to break. I give him a good nudge; taking the hint Luke rolls off me to his side of the bed.

He then starts removing the condom. "Why are you so quiet?" Luke inquires.

Arduously, I kick the sheet off my feet. "I have to go to the bathroom," I stammer while flinging my legs over the edge of the bed. As soon as, my feet hit the floor, I dart to the bathroom where the door slips from my hand and unintentionally it slams behind me. Sagging against it, I turn the lock before slapping my hand over my mouth. Letting out a muffled howl, I cry out. "What am I going to do? How did I let it get this far?" In a strangled voice, I mumble under my breath.

Pushing off the door, I stumble to the counter falling against it. Reaching, I hurriedly turning on the faucet so the water can run. Hopefully the steady stream, will fake him out and block the noises escaping my mouth. I don't want him to hear me. I'd gone through great pains, to make this night special for him, so I don't want to ruin it now. I reverse position, putting my back to the edge of the counter, and I hide my shame behind my hands. Sinking to the tile floor, I sob uncontrollably. After about 5 minutes, I force myself to get up from the floor and pull it together. Cupping the edge of the vanity, I examine my face in the mirror. To be expected my eyes are red-rimmed and my skin slightly blotchy; solving one problem I splash water on my face. Turning off the faucet, I resign myself to the red eyes.

Unlocking the door, I walk slowly to the bed to give me time to collect my thoughts and perfect the bogus smile I've plastered on my face. Luckily, by the time I reach my side of the bed it all feels natural. Rolling to meet me, Luke then extends his hand giving me an assist back up on the king size behemoth.

Concern marring his face, he inspects mine. "You were gone a long time? Are you okay?" he asks taking the palm of his hand smoothing away the hairs matted to my face by the residual water. I want to reassure him, but words fail me and even my phony smile slips. He continues stroking the side of my face. "You're not okay, you've been crying. Your eyes are red. Did I push you too far?" One after another patiently, he tosses questions at me as he caresses my cheek with the back of his knuckles.

I remind myself what the night is really about, and magically my words return. "No," I say firmly. I'd needed to stay mindful of the goal. "I got some hair in my eyes," I say reinforcing the lie.

His smile returns. "Okay, come here." Shifting to sit up on his elbow, he then flips me to my side. Wrapping his arm around my waist, Luke pulls my back tightly to his front.

"Thank you," I whisper and I lay my hand on his forearm.

Angling his head downward, Luke nuzzles his nose in my hair. "So, I finally get to the meet the famous Dr. Ryan tomorrow," he says, and my body twitches.

"Yes," I reply, trying to disguise my discomfort.

"I'm looking forward to it, I'd like to thank her for giving you back to me. The brilliance is returning to your sapphire eyes," he says.

The side of my head inclines onto his bicep. "Sapphire, huh," I snort, "that's new. My eyes have been compared to every shade of blue in the ocean and sky, but never a jewel tone; I don't think," I ramble, in an effort to get his mind off of tomorrow.

Luke starts kissing me on the neck, tickling me. "Well, to me you are more precious than any jewel," he says.

Tilting, I rest the back of my head on his chest. "You know if you worked on it, that could be a great pick up line; ala it must have hurt when you fell from heaven," I tease. "Cheesy, but good," I giggle.

Sitting up higher on his elbow Luke cranes his head over my shoulder to get a better look at my face. "Excuse me, I don't need a pickup line," he warns and jerking his arm from underneath me, Luke rolls me onto my back and starts tickling me. Squealing and giggling hysterically, I flail sending my arms and legs everywhere. "The sound of you genuinely laughing is all I need for survival," he says, and he's serious again.

Staring up at him, I smile reflectively. "It feels good to be able to," I say squirming so I can get straighter in the bed.

Falling onto his back, Luke puts his arm behind him propping up his head. "So what's the plan? I pick you up and we drive together."

I slide in closer to him and rest my head on his chest. "I have classes and I volunteer tomorrow so it would be better if we drove separately."

"Okay," he says and I can feel his whole body move as his head tilts down. "Are you staying the night?"

"Yes," I answer, running my fingers along the ridges on his abdomen.

Removing his arm, deftly he quickly gets me on my back. "Good," he says huskily, "this way I'll be able to make love to you all night…starting now," Luke says and sliding down my body he buries his face between my legs.

My back arches off the bed. "Ah," I moan while grabbing a handful of the sheet in my hands.

* * *

Luke stands up when I enter the waiting room and excitingly he embraces me. It's one of the things I love and appreciate about him. He embodies my favorite Maya Angelou saying; he always lights up when I walk into a room. "Hi baby," he murmurs.

Huffing, I return his embrace. "Sorry I'm late," I say as I try to catch my breath. "There was a last minute snafu at the Boys and Girls club."

Releasing me he places his hand at the small of my back, helping me down to the chair next to him. "You're fine, the Therapist is running late too. Is she usually late?"

I scrunch my face up. "Never actually. Usually, I'd have to sit and wait while she peruses my notes, but she's never late," I say, and just when I'm about to check with the receptionist the young woman comes from around the corner letting us know that Dr. Ryan was ready for us.

When we enter the office, Dr. Ryan is in her familiar position; I elbow Luke in the ribs and under his breath, he chuckles knowingly. He then reaches for my hand, and I lead him to the sofa. Just as we're about to sit, Dr. Ryan looks up from her notepad.

"Anastasia," she says politely but when she greets Luke her tone is much more sensual. "Mr. Sawyer, I assume," she purrs, "It's a pleasure to finally meet your acquaintance. Thank you for coming." By the end she adopts her more professional tone.

Luke gives her his boy next door smile, and I shake my head. I don't know if I'll be able to survive the innocent flirting between the two of them. Luke, I'd expect it, he's a natural flirt, but it's out of character for Dr. Ryan. "No problem, but you can call me Luke," he says correcting her.

Dr. Ryan graces him with the broadest smile I'd seen from her to date and playfully, I roll my eyes. "Alright then. Let's get started," she says picking up her pen and pad. "So, Luke why don't you tell me why you're here," Dr. Ryan says.

Luke glances at me. "I'm here to support my girlfriend," he says and inexplicably my heart swells. Out of the blue, I get this huge sense of pride at being called his girlfriend. "Ana asked me to come so here I am. I'd do anything to make her happy," he says, and the swell of pride turns into a wave of uneasiness. Cue the guilt.

"Fair enough. But can you expound upon the type of support you were hoping to offer Anastasia?" Dr. Ryan asks.

At a loss for what to say, Luke turns his gaze on me, but all I have to offer him for encouragement is a blank stare. Picking up on his confusion Dr. Ryan clarifies, assuring him that there are no right or wrong answers. Apparently, that was the missing link because Luke responds immediately. "Moral support, I guess," he comes out with, giving the easily predictable response.

"See that wasn't so bad," she says, "So can you speak more to that?"

Instantly, I see the seismic shift; he's lowering his guard. "The miscarriage wasn't only hard on Ana; it was tough for me too; however, I didn't feel as if I had the right to the feelings. After all, I wasn't the father, so I shoved them aside to focus on her, but she didn't turn to me. Not only did I have to deal with the guilt over my own grief, I had to sit on the sideline and watch as she reached out to everyone but me," he opens up confessing woes I did not know about, and a swarm of emotion overtakes me.

I put my hand on his knee. "Luke, why didn't you tell me?" I murmur softly.

Ruefully, he holds my gaze. "You never asked," he says flatly

Dr. Ryan inserts herself into our conversation. "Luke I would like to explore that response, I sense some tension in your voice."

"No," he responds decisively, "I feel broadsided," he confesses.

"Why?" Dr. Ryan asks.

He sighs. "Because of questions like that, this isn't supposed to be about me. I'm here for Ana so can we please move on and discuss what I need to do to help her," he says and I'm afraid the barrier will go back up.

"Sorry Luke, I wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable, I just happen to think that your wellbeing is what is good for Anastasia. So, in a way delving into your feelings is away to support her," she says. "You can't fully be there for her if you're clinging on to things that are not healthy for you."

He smirks. "You're good," he says sighing and he continues. "Prior to the miscarriage, Ana and I never had a problem with talking to each other. But after it, communication between us became forced and it felt like I was the only one to notice or to care. So when she reached out to me about coming here, I was elated that she finally needed me. Then when she invited me to her bed, I felt like I could finally breathe again." Stunned by his frankness, I sit in silence. The three of us are silent, I think we're all figuring out where to go from here. I wasn't expecting this level of oversharing from him.

Dr. Ryan is the first to speak. The trained professional, she guides us out of the quandary Luke dragged us into. "Breathe how and why did you think you couldn't breathe before?"

Luke rotates his head to face me. "You're okay?" he mumbles.

"Yes," I whisper, "don't worry about me." Despite my discomfort, I want to hear what he has to say.

"I'm confident you've covered our sex life in your sessions," he says staring directly at Dr. Ryan. I'm starting to have second thoughts. I've seen the tip, I don't know if I'm prepared for what's buried beneath the iceberg.

"Yes, but I'd like to hear what you have to say," Dr. Ryan says and my fingernails dig into the edge of the sofa.

"There's not much to say, except that it was nonexistent after the miscarriage. It felt like she was drifting away from me, because sex was the glue that helped to connect us, as well as, fulfilling our carnal needs. So when we finally made love last night, it was like I had my other half back. Immediately we'd found our rhythm and then I knew we'd be okay," he says turning to me. "I love you," he whispers and my eyes water.

"I'm sorry," I sniffle.

"For what?" he whispers

"All of it," I say

Dr. Ryan makes eye contact with me and my hidden shame seeps to the surface radiating from me for her to see. "Luke if you don't mind stepping out for a moment please, I'd like to have a few minutes alone with Anastasia." The timbre of her voice hints at her frustration and disappointment in me.

Luke sits forward with his forearms braced on his thighs. "Look at me," he urges, "will you be okay?" he asks.

Vigorously I nod my head. "Yes," I say keeping my reply to one word to not expose the shakiness in my voice. I don't want to alarm him, unnecessarily.

Dr. Ryan doesn't skip a beat; as soon as, the door closes she starts her interrogation. "Care to explain?"

I channel my inner Kate. "No, I don't," I say defiantly.

Dr. Ryan sits up straighter. "Fine," she says acerbically. "Then, maybe you can explain what happened to the plan we'd outlined," She says sardonically

I sigh in exasperation. "I owed him. Okay," I seethe and settle back in my seat once I'd confessed my sin.

Dr. Ryan furrows her brow. "A roll in the hay," she says sarcastically. "And that's what you think you owed him," she says pointing at the door. "I don't know about you, but the young man who just walked out of this office was deserving of more than a cheap frolic? But if it's what you think he'd deserved then you're more deluded about this relationship than I'd thought," she quips.

"Why do you have to marginalize, my relationship with him? It wasn't some quick, cheap sexcapade it was truly lovemaking," I say.

"I'll apologize for the cheap description if you concede that making love isn't exactly accurate either," she chides. "Let's remove sex from the equation, then what would your justification for the stunt be? The timing baffles me."

"Why are you baffled? Doesn't it sound just like me; quick to react slow to think," I say flippantly?

She smiles wryly. "No, it doesn't. You're thoughtful, and your intentions are always well intended just sometimes misguided," she states, all while I wipe trickling water from my cheeks.

I choke on a sob. "I had to be sure that my desire to end things with him wasn't caused by a disconnect brought on by the miscarriage. In my mind, being with him was the only means of proving or disapproving the notion. I needed to be sure, "I sniff.

Dr. Ryan smiles warmly at me. "Luke is a very handsome and sexy young man, so couldn't it be as simple as wanting to have your last fill of him. Sometimes a rose is just a rose and sex is just sex." She smirks at me. "Keep it simple stupid, is the motto I live by." She winks.

Sniffing, I shrug my shoulders coyly. "Maybe," I say timidly.

When I meet her gaze, Dr. Ryan has assumed her more serious persona. "Listen, Anastasia, the only guarantees life offers us is that one day we will die and own our route there we will make mistakes. If we're lucky, some will be minor and easily forgotten, but some stubborn ones will haunt us forever. So the best we can do is to read the fine print that accounts for the mistakes," she says and out of habit she glances at her pad. "I've been working with you for a while now and after meeting with Luke, I can assure you that the problem with your relationship extends far beyond the bedroom and even your miscarriage. You're making more excuses, so are you ready to stop?"

I close my eyes trying to gain control of my emotions. "Yes," I say shaking my head.

"I know, his mental well-being is of concern to you, considering what happened with his last breakup. But I have to tell you, Anastasia, after talking to him just now I don't share those concerns. Luke is a very confident young man. To be honest with you, trying to reconcile last night with today will probably be the most difficult part of this for him."

"I'm a horrible person," I say in a strangled voice.

Sitting on the edge of her chair, Dr. Ryan rests her hand on my knee. "You're not and you know it; however, you are a chicken," she says teasingly and she graces me with her lesser seen tender smile. Then removing her hand she hustles back into her chair. "So here's what we're going to do. You've waffled long enough."

* * *

**Luke's POV**

When Ana rounds the corner, she's distraught, dumbfounded by the sudden change in her demeanor I race to her. "Baby," I say anxiously, "what happened? Are you alright?" I prod while enveloping her in my arms. "You're worrying me," I say but in an effort to console her, I seem to be having the opposite effect; Ana's sobs become louder and her shoulders start shaking more violently as her face falls on my chest. Pulling her tighter, I coo whilst rubbing small circles on her back stopping only when her slender shoulders are no longer shuddering, and the crying has subsided. Taking advantage of the calm, I nudge her backward so I can see her face. Tilting my head down, taking my hand, I run a thumb over her cheeks soaking up her tears. "Come on let me take you home," I say reaching for her hand.

She panics and jerks it away from me. "No," she says forcibly taking me aback, "Dr. Ryan wants to see you," she says more calmly.

I shrug my shoulders. "Okay, come on let's go," I say reaching for her hand and again she pulls back.

"She wants to see you alone," she whimpers.

"Alone. Why?" I ask incredulously.

Sniffling, Ana wipes her nose with the back of her hand. "Luke, please just go, I'm fine," she says waving me off.

Against my better judgment, I acquiesce and leaving Ana alone I take long strides the short distance to the office, eager to get this little meeting over with. Turning the knob, I snatch the door back storming inside. "You wanted to see," I say gruffly.

Dr. Ryan scrutinizes my face. "Yes, I did. What has you so upset?"

I glower at her. "I think the most important question is, what has Ana so upset," I seethe.

"Did you ask her?" she retorts.

I grit my teeth. "Of course I asked her," I reply.

"What did she say?"

"Nothing, she was too busy crying her fucking eyes out so care to enlighten me?" I say snidely.

"Could you take a seat?"

"Why? I don't plan to stay, I'm only here because Ana begged me. So get to it. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can take her home," I say.

"Luke," Dr. Ryan says more forcibly. "Please have a seat."

I hesitate, but I walk to the sofa and take my seat so I can get out; as soon as, possible. "Okay, I'm sitting," I say sarcastically and I cross my jean clad leg over my knee. "So tell me why you wanted to see me. Alone." I emphasize alone.

Dr. Ryan removes her glasses and holds them in her lap. "Luke, I was going to ask you some probing questions, but I'm not going to drag this out," she says both peeking my curiosity and riling me even more. "Anastasia wants to end her relationship with you." Her voice is too clinical to deliver something so intimate and potent enough to kill.

There's a ping in my chest, as her words course through me. Swallowing hard I try to put the moisture back that had suddenly drained from my mouth. "So, you want me to believe that Ana brought me here so you can break up with me for her," I chuckle and cockily I come to my feet. But I know there are elements of truth in what she'd said, I just needed to talk to Ana to find out just how much. Then I'd be able to make it better. "Nothing against you Doc, but that's ludicrous. I'm going to get my girlfriend and take her home," I say walking calmly when I want to take off like a jackrabbit to get out of this mind-fuck I'd stumbled into.

"Mr. Sawyer," Dr. Ryan calls again and again, but I stay focus on the goal; getting to Ana. "She's gone Luke," she shouts, finally getting to the point. Using my name she was able to inject warmth in her voice with the familiarity that was not there with the more formal address.

My hand molds around the shiny knob, as I let her words settle into my bones, my pores, in every part of me. She left. Now it all made sense; she knew and said nothing. My anger starts to shift towards her, the more I think about her betrayal, the harder my hand presses against the doorknob, it's starting to turn white. I unfurl my hand and my shoulders immediately droop, it feels as if my knees are going to give way so leisurely I lean against the door as not to give my precarious situation away.

"Why didn't she tell me herself?" I don't recognize my voice. It's not matching the plethora of negative emotions raging inside of me; hurt, resentment and sadness to name a few.

"It was her intention, but frankly, I didn't think she could handle it," Dr. Ryan has the audacity to say.

I find my strength and pushing off the door I come to my full height. "So this was your fucking idea?" I bark. "How dare you sit in that fucking chair indiscriminatingly making decisions that affect my fucking life," I snarl.

I glower at her, but the ruby red lipstick painted on her lips taunt me, confirming my belief that the color is best relegated to the night otherwise it wreaks of desperation. Or perhaps it's my pettiness manufacturing a flaw in her perfect armor so I can justify not believing her poisonous words. When in my heart of heart I know they're true, I felt them last night but brushed them off as inconsequential. Part of her ongoing struggles with the miscarriage. "Luke, why don't you have a seat?" Dr. Ryan says calmly, not taking the bait and being goaded into a sparring match with me.

I scoff. "No, I'll pass thank you," I say snidely, "I'm done with being psycho- analyzed. I need the truth," I say forcibly but not as angrily as before.

She sits forward. "I don't want to psycho-analyze you, but maybe we could talk about Alison," she says cockily.

"Fuck you," I spit out. I'd misjudged her, I'd thought she was taking the high road, but bringing up Alison it looks as if she's intentionally trying to raise my ire. "Do you think throwing Alison in my face, will deflect from this clusterfuck?" I grit my teeth.

She sits up straighter if she's nervous about being alone with a madman in her office she isn't showing it. "No, but I thought it would be helpful in preventing a repeat of what happened with her if we talked about it. I know it's a concern of Anastasia..."

I cackle interrupting her. "That's rich," I say sarcastically. "Well, let me set Anastasia's mind to rest and perhaps ease her conscious at the same time." Intentionally I used her proper name to show my disdain.

"Luke, I can honestly say she genuinely cares about you," she says.

I snort. "The same way a snake cares about a rat, right before he swallows it whole," I say sarcastically, "You can tell her, I'm not going to throw myself on a grenade if that's what she's worried about. I'll suffer this one the old fashioned way...endure the pain." I examine her expression. "You don't think I love her do you?"

Dr. Ryan's features soften at the question and she pins me with her stoic gaze. "Luke, I do," she whispers.

The sudden show of compassion helps some of my agitation to ebb. So, finally I acquiesce and take a seat on the sofa I'd been stubbornly avoiding. "What about love at first sight?" I ask, soon as my ass hits the cushion.

Dr. Ryan slumps back in her chair. "You got me there, I'm more pragmatic than romantic," she admits.

I chuckle softly. "Pragmatic. That's a good word, It's how I'd defined me after Alison. Here goes, you wanted to talk about Alison," I say wryly.

Anxious, she sits forward slightly. "Go on, I'm all ears," she says slyly.

I cross my legs at the knee, putting one hand on the knee and wrapping the other loosely around my ankle. "With Alison I'd done the whole romantic thing the traditional way. Taking incremental steps; courting leading up to the big reveal...the declaration of love," I say and I pause.

"So. Since it ended so horribly, you thought you'd abandoned that approach?" She says

I snicker. "You really are a pragmatist," I sigh. "Let me school you. You don't choose love less more when it's going to choose you," I say, removing my hands and setting my feet back down on the floor. "It didn't happen the way it's described in books, you know?"

She smirks. "I find that real life rarely does," she say dryly.

"I don't know if I'd completely agree with your sardonic assessment, but in this instance it is true…my reality was better."

In my periphery, I can see Dr. Ryan smirking. "Naturally, because life is meant to be experienced and not simply imagined," she says professorially.

I smirk. "Can I get that on a mug?" After a tumultuous start, Dr. Ryan and I have found our sweet spot; something akin to a therapy session meets shooting the breeze. "The sudden explosion of fireworks was dispensed with and my heart didn't go all a flutter; it was more subtle than that. There was nothing extraordinary about the day or that Starbucks until she walked in changing the trajectory of my life," I say.

"Really, how? I ask because I feel like that statement has more to it."

I sigh. "I'm being psycho- analyzed aren't I?"

She looks impassive. "Since you're not my client, I'd say more like prodding. But yeah," she cheekily admits.

"Regardless, it's not so bad," I say. "Anyway, after years of pleading, I'd finally decided to take my dad up on his offer to fund my Security Business. He'd already had clients lined up for me both internationally and domestically. From those contracts alone I was guaranteed to reach multi-millionaire status almost immediately, and could've ended up a Billionaire by the time I was 30."

"But then Anastasia happened?" She says and the pragmatic Dr. Ryan sounds wistfully like a romantic. "By the way Luke does Ana know that you walked away from such a lucrative venture for her?"

"No. She knows that I would like to start my own security business, but she doesn't know I was a pen stroke away from doing it."

"Too bad," she says, "Sorry, I digress," she apologizes

"No worries," I say and pick up where I'd left off. "As soon as, I saw Ana I was smitten. In that one moment, I knew all I needed to know to all of a sudden fall madly in love at the first sight of her. There was something innocently mysterious about Ana that drew me to her. It was the way her eye still crinkled even though they were sad. The way I could see the purity in her heart though it was breaking. Or knowing that she had the power to destroy me, yet being powerless to stop it. It was all intriguing. With her I knew, what I was getting, see I didn't fall for some unrealistic vision of her. My heart fell in love with all the flaws and human frailties that make up who she is."

"Now, I have a better understanding of why this must be so difficult for you," Dr. Ryan says.

"It's not difficult, it's damn near impossible," I say

"Luke, Anastasia is at a pivotal moment in her life. You and Anastasia and to some extent me, keep casting her miscarriage as the villain...the cause off all your problems when it is not. It only revealed them. Anastasia is so brilliant and seemingly so capable that people tend to forget how truly young she is and what a traumatic childhood she's had to overcome. We miss how fractured she is. She'd suppressed her past, at first for survival, then out of necessity. She never stopped to deal with her problems. But time is fluid and not stagnate and over time her problems only mounted."

I sigh in exasperation. "And I'm the problem," I say sadly.

"Luke, this isn't about assigning blame. It's about helping a young woman thrive and not just survive. Ana isn't here because I knew she wouldn't put be able to put herself first, that's why I'm asking you to do it for her. See not only do I believe that you love her, I'm counting on it. Because it's that love that will allow you to walk away.

Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I lift off the sofa and coming to my feet I walk around the sofa to the window. The glass is so clear, it's nearly invisible; in the way a glass door is when you bump into because it blended into the house. Staring intently at the scenery, it's just as Ana had described. There's a lone tree in the middle of the small courtyard untouched by the season, it still has all its leaves. On this side of the office complex, there are no cars or high rises to mar the view. Beyond the tree in the distance, there's a mountain; shoving my hands in my pocket, I ponder getting lost on it. Going off the grid.

Eyes wide open, I'm being assaulted by the myriad of visual sensations invading my mind; the view and glimpses of Ana and me in happier times. The snippets of us play out like a montage set against the backdrop of the sad lament of Ed Shearing's, "Living Out Loud". Damn her for projecting her silly musical notions onto me. By this point, I'd tune out Dr. Ryan, as the montage runs on a constant loop in my mind's eyes. Afraid to blink, I force my eyes to stay wide opened; I don't want to lose the pictures too scared I'd lose the memories forever.

The hodgepodge of pictures flicker in my head; I see her walking through the door at Starbucks for the first time, playing Frisbee with Benji, and the endless dancing and lip synching battles. Her birthday celebration. Making love to her over and over and over. And to punctuate it all, her giggling then inevitably it all fades.

Removing my hands, I avert my gaze; oblivious that she'd long ago lost me, Dr. Ryan continues to direct the steps of my life from her perch. Saying something about, how Ana needs time to grow, to heal, and yada yada yada. At this point, it's all noise to me; I'm resigned to my fate. I'd made my peace with it. Defeated, I trudge to the door, as Dr. Ryan frantically calls my name. This time I don't stop, I don't even hesitate. Gripping the knob, I turn it yanking the door open walking to the hallway. The door slams behind me as I continue to the lobby, following her lingering scent. As I round the corner, I do my best to dampened down the hopefulness swelling that she'd be on the other side waiting for me. But alas, she's not there; the lobby is empty. With all hope dashed, I scramble to remove myself from the toxic environment. Pushing through the class doors, I throw my head back when I hit the crisp winter air taking it into my lungs.

Once I get to my jeep, I rest a hand on the hood supporting myself on it. Struggling, I stagger to the driver side door, but my hand slips when I try to grip the handle. Flipping my body, I submit to my pain, letting my back slide down the length of the door I sink to gravel surface of the parking lot. Facing the car parked next to me, I bring my knees up resting my arms on them causes my hands to loosely dangle as my head drops and unrepentantly I sob.

My eyes focused on the ground, I see a shadow looming large on the gravelly ground and I know it's her. Tilting my head upward I make eye contact with her and she extends a small delicate hand to me. Taking it, I jerk her arm pulling her down to my level on the ground instead of letting her help me to my feet.

Squealing, Ana tumbles. "I got you," I say catching her so she lands on my lap so she won't injure herself on the gravel. Then, instantly I help her down onto the ground next to me.

"Thank you," she says, cautiously smiling trying to discern if it's appropriate or not. And then she pulls her knees up mimicking mine.

"You're welcome," I say inspecting her every body movement, facial tick and voice inflection for a tell.

I study her profile, she's so beautiful and doesn't even know it...her humility is one of the many things I love about her. Staring at her my heart is inconsolable, knowing that this may be the last time I'm ever this close to her. Yet eerily I don't feel the devastation I did with Alison so Ana's worries were unwarranted. Knowing what I know now, my relationship with Alison isn't even comparable. Honestly, when she left, I was confused. I wasn't quite sure of what I was losing or if even if I cared; besides, my masculine pride played more of a role than I'd wanted to admit. So in the end my mini breakdown was a combination of all those things, but mainly my immaturity. Alison was my love, but not the love of my life; Ana is. With her everything is clear. I know what I'm giving up; fortunately now I'm mature enough not to let my pride get in the way. She's the only girl for me, even if her love for me doesn't rise to the same level as mine. After all that was never my expectation, and it's the piece of the puzzle Ana and her therapist neglected. They missed that pitifully I'd accept any level of her affection, it was unrealistic to gauge her love for me against mine for her. No one could love anyone as much as I love her because it's irrational and at the same time the most sensible thing in the world to me.

"What are you thinking?" she asks softly reminding me that she's not a figment of my imagination, she's flesh and bone next to me.

I blink. "A lot of things actually. Like why did you come back?"

Her expression is pained. "I never should've left. I'm sorry Luke that I took the coward's way out; I shouldn't have been so careless with your feelings. I more than anyone, should've behaved more sensitively. It wasn't Dr. Ryan's place to deliver something so personal and private. You deserved better," she says guiltily.

"I don't know," I shrug smirkingly, "I thought I was part of a new revolution where break up by text, email, and the phone was passé and by Therapist was the new in thing," I say jokingly, but my sarcasm comes through.

She pulls her knees up higher to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. "Not funny, stop trying to make light," she chides

"Do I look like I'm making light; me like this isn't enough proof for you that I'm not taking this lightly. Perhaps me gnashing my teeth and wailing at your feet would do it for you," I sneer.

She looks contrite. "I'd never meant to hurt you, Luke," Ana says softly.

I soften, the distress on her face is killing me. Making me feel like shit for being so derisive. "It's not your fault, you can't tempt fate. The only way you could've avoided hurting me was to not walk into that Starbucks on that day at that time. For better or worse it was fate that put us together."

She stretches out her legs and fidget with her hands. "Still I feel responsible. And I Betcha your family and friends won't blame it on fate either," she sighs, "so you should be prepared to hear the chorus of I told you sos'."

I give her empathetic smile. "Don't worry about my family or friends, I'll handle them. Also you don't have to worry about me I'm not going to go on some destructive binge like last time," I say adamantly. I don't want her pity. Reluctantly, I will accept remorse from her, at least it goes both ways and a small dose is healthy. Pity, on the other hand, is one-sided and demoralizing with no redeeming qualities. As the song goes, _when a heart breaks it doesn't break even_. Fuck, another **Anaism**.

"Luke, I-"

I reach over and grab her hands between mine. "Don't," I plead. "I don't want your pity and do me a favor please don't try to put a spin on our relationship, leave me with my memories intact." I say and I drop her hands. "All you had to do was tell me."

She gives me a sad smile. "I tried," she says.

"Touché," I chuckle. I guess we both could've done better in the communications department. Instead of sending out smoke signals, we should've said our unsaid words. We might've hung onto each other's every word, but it the end it's the words left hanging on our tongues that was our undoing...they held the truth."

She smiles at me and I die a little more inside. "Then let me speak the truth. No spin. For the first time I'll give it to you straight." She swallows. "You matter to me and in some ways that's more powerful than love. It's not defined by time, there's no ending; you will always matter to me. People may fall in and out of love, but it's the people that matter to them that they will cherish forever," she says in a strangled voice.

Leaning over, I run my thumb over her face. "You know I hate it when you cry," I say.

"Why are you making this so easy for me?"

"I don't know any other way," I whisper. Staring into her watery blue eyes, I want to force her to admit the truth about last night. Since that's what we're doing, being honest. Ironic that it's at the end of our relationship that we choose that as the path forward. But when I try to put a voice to the question, the words abandon me. I'd prefer to live with the lie, I don't want to hear her honest response. What is the truth at this moment, little more than a false sense of closure of which I don't believe in any way.

Hearing her admit that last night was a pity fuck isn't worth the truth to me. It is what would tip the scale and I would surely spiral out of control. So instead, I pull myself from her personal space and put my hands on the rocky surface of the ground so I can come to my feet. Standing, I dust the tiny pieces of gravel from the ass of my jeans and reaching down I help Ana to her feet.

"Thanks," she says as she dusts herself off.

I caress the side of her face and closing her eyes Ana inclines into my touch. "Love never fails," I whisper. Then startling her, I grab her forearm yanking her closer to me. When she collides with my chest, she sighs audibly. Then weaving my hand in her hair I cup the back of her head, and tenderly I run the tip of my tongue along the seam of her lips. Coaxing her lips open I slip my tongue into her mouth extracting enough of her nectar to hopefully last me a lifetime. Moaning into my mouth Ana grinds against me and I deepened the kiss. Thrusting into her, I push her up against the car door and continue grinding down on her. I don't know how long we last before coming up for air, but it will never be long enough for me. Ana is breathless but I'm perfectly fine. I remove my hand from her hair and intently we stare at each other.

In the back of mind I always knew this is where we'd end up and but I'd envisioned the end of us being filled with drama and overwrought with anguish. Instead, it's simple and quiet. Gently moving her aside, I open the door and slide inside. There was nothing more to say, our silence said it all.

As I speed off, I laugh mockingly. "She cried the entire fucking night. That should've given me a clue.

* * *

I continue to press my fingers to my lips as his jeep speeds away. As it is always with Luke, my emotions are all over the place; one minute I think he's the man for me and I'd go to any length to have him in my life, the next I'm relieved. Staring at the building, I think about going to Dr. Ryan's office but decide on going on home. I don't need to hear how right I am, I need to…I don't know what I need, but I won't find it in that building. So I walk to my trusty Beetle.

_What am I gonna do to when the best part of me was always you_

_Cause when a heart breaks, no, it don't break even_

_Cause I got time while she got freedom_

_"Breakeven"- The Script_


	34. Chapter 34: I'm only Human

**Chapter 34: I'm only Human**

**Disclaimer: **FSOG belongs to EL James

**A/N:** OMG, you guys blow me away... I'm so humble by your reviews (positive or negative) and likes. The reviews for the last chapter was overwhelmingly positive... And you guys helped me to go over 500 reviews "Thank you) ... When I first started writing this FF, 50 was only a dream...Every time one person reads my story, I'm appreciative because there are so many great stories on this site... I know every time I read one I feel like an inferior writer then I get a ping...Someone checking in waiting for my story..it warms my heart.. Chapter 33 is the first chapter where almost everyone felt the emotion I was trying to convey in the chapter...I wasn't going for tears but I'll admit to get choked up while writing it but I didn't think it would resonate. For me it was about finding a fitting end for these Luke and Ana and chance to indulge my romantic notion of how I'd wish my breakup I'd gone when I was a young woman :)-

Okay, it's official I'm slow at getting these chapters ready for posting ... Aside from my husband and work commitment there's another reason and I had a whole long A/N written explaining it and then I deleted it... it was TMI (if you want to know you can PM me) - At the end of the day you guys just want chapter So I promise to do better.

As always thank you for reading, writing and reviewing.

**One Week Later- Saturday**

Frenetically, shaking our heads Kate, Amanda, Jazz and I scream like rock stars. "Whip," we sing then clenching our fists we stroke forward sticking our arms out in front of us. Holding the position, we do something akin to a shimmy. "Watch me nae nae," we sing and rotating the arm with the clenched fist we fling them above our heads unfurling our fingers creating jazz hands. Subtly, shaking our hands in the air, we rock from side to side swaying suggestively.

Keeping our circle intact, we jump up and down on our toes, pumping our arms in the air shouting as we sing, "ooh watch me, watch me." Landing on our feet and leaning into the middle of the circle we exaggeratedly shimmy our shoulders. Giggling hysterically we stare at each other as we repeat the verse singing, "watch me, watch me." Then straightening up, we go straight into the stanky leg. And that's where it all falls apart; Jazz puts too much stank into her stanky leg.

We guffaw at how serious she is with her herky-jerky movements. Kate, Amanda, and I are laughing so hard, we double over in pain. Jazz has even captured the attention of the people on the crowded dance floor or maybe it's us with our hysterics. Either way the patrons dancing closest to us are fed up. I can tell by the way they are mercilessly gawking at us. Initially, they were genuinely amused by our shenanigans. But the entertainment value has worn off and now they're simply annoyed. Luckily, for them we've had our fill, and after about 2 hours of nonstop dancing we're tired. So, grabbing Jazz we start shaking our grove thing to the waning beats of Silento's mega -hit, as we dance our way off the dance floor loudly singing as we go. "Watch me, watch me," we yell, and after each verse we whip our heads back nodding at the girl behind us.

Finally, we reach our booth. Exhausted and snickering profusely we collapse on top of each other onto the bench like human dominoes; Amanda on the bottom of the pile and me on the top. Giggling even harder, everyone but Amanda comes to her feet- she scoots making her way around the circular booth. Still laughing, the rest of us file in after her, and right away we reach for our deserted drinks. Though they were left unattended, we're not overly concerned that the beverages were spiked because from where we'd positioned ourselves on the dance floor we had a good vantage point of the table.

Glancing around the booth, my heart swells at being surrounded by my girls. Amanda and Jazz came to Portland at the last minute to lift my spirits. They were very surprised and disappointed to hear about Luke and me, but they wanted to show me their support. At first I was more than a little concern at how they'd interact with Kate, she despises having new people introduced into our small group. But my worries were debunked because they hit it off right away and are getting along swimmingly. I'd suspect it's because Kate's not threatened by them. Unlike Lulu, they're both easy going, even Amanda who can be pushy at times

I blink when a foreign hand cups my water bottle. From across the table, Amanda has her hands on my water. Give me that," she yells as she proceeds to jerk the bottle from my hands. Coming back down to her seat she brings the bottle up to her mouth. "I'm thirsty as hell," she bellows as she guzzles the water down.

Kate smirks at Amanda. "Fuck water, who needs it," she squawks.

It is at that exact moment that I reach up snatching her mixed drink out of her grasp, spilling a tad in the process. "You do," I screech, slamming the glass down on the table. Then beckoning Nick, who happens to be right in front of our table, I ask him to get some bottled water for us, and I'd pay for it.

Kate pouts. "You're mean," she whines and like a petulant child she folds her arms across her chest.

I laugh at her tantrum. "You'll be ok." Condescendingly, I pat her on the shoulder. Then out my periphery, I see Jazz with her mug of beer and just when I'm about to turn my policing on her she pushes the drink aside. Tilting my head, I get closer to her ear. "What's wrong?" I ask gesturing with my head to the almost full mug.

Jazz picks it up and glowers at the amber liquid. "Too warm, I hate warm beer." She frowns, "so I'll get another one once I've had your water," she says sarcastically.

I lean back against the booth. "My water?" I shriek.

She chuckles. "Yes. Kate, Amanda and I wouldn't be caught dead with the shit if you weren't here," she says

Waving her off I rotate my body slightly so I can listen in on Kate and Amanda's conversation. "It's been a long time since I've had a boyfriend, but the last boy I'd been with was pretty lame," Kate says and that's all I get to hear because Jazz pokes me in my side with her elbow demanding my attention

"What!" I yelp as I shift to face her.

"So, you and Luke. Over for real."

I nod my head. " Sadly, Yes," I respond.

Jazz pouts. "Too bad," she says, "you two made a cute couple. It was so sweet the way he doted on you. If there were a couple from Harvard that was going to make it, I'd put my bet on you guys." She gives me her best puppy dog look.

I mirror her expression. "I know. He's a good guy, but it wasn't in the cards for us." I sigh.

Leaning across the table with her upper body, Amanda interrupts our conversation. "What are you two talking about?" She screams.

Jazz leans in. "Luke," she yells

"Oh, Mr. Hotty," Amanda shrieks, as she slumps back in her seat. "I'm gay, and I'd do him," she howls.

"I'm not gay and I'd do him." Deadpan, Kate replies and I whip my head around to glare at her.

"Hell yeah," Jazz chimes in, "I'll drink to that." She picks up her tall glass of stale beer and waits as Kate and Amanda grab their abandon drinks. Then they meet in the middle clinking their glasses but under my watchful eyes they don't dare drink the liquid inside.

Whining, I put my hands on my sides. "Wait a minute. What happened to bashing the ex to support your best girlfriend." Jokily I chastise them, but there's a tinge of bitterness to the statement. Luckily, Nick shows up so we let the conversation drop.

He stands at the edge of the booth, with his tray in hand. "Here you go," he says, sliding the bottles one at a time across the table to each of us, and I dig into my pocket for the money. "Don't worry about it, consider it part of my apology tour," he says winking at me and I give him an appreciative smile.

Taking a sip of their waters, my so called friends pick up on where they'd left off objectifying Luke. I was wrong, I'd misjudged the situation; they're not done with the topic just yet. "Ana we're still your girls, but Luke deserves his due. The boy is all that and a bag of chips. Even you gotta admit that with those dreamy blue eyes, blonde hair like spun silk, a pretty face, and a body that makes you wanna weep; that the boy is a feast for the eyes," Amanda squeals. With such a sensual description, I have to remind myself that she's a Lesbian.

Kate gives her a high five. "Yes, he is." Emphatically she agrees with Amanda. I know she's slightly tipsy, but still I want to smack her on the back of her head right now.

Bouncing up and down on the bench Jazz accidentally smacks me on the shoulder with one of her flailing arms. "Wait, wait, wait one gosh darn minute." Excitingly, she shrieks repeating herself. She's so animated, she can barely get the words out. "Aaannd that's with his clothes on, but guurrrls you didn't get to see him with his shirt off." Folding her arms at the elbows, Jazz holds them up in front of her chest feverishly shaking.

I jump in. "Jazz, I think we've heard this story." My intent is to shut her down before she goes on her rant about the one time she caught Luke without his shirt playing a game of pickup basketball.

"Yeah, Jazz we know the story," Amanda reiterates backing me up, then she flips on me. "But I can hear it again." She snickers. I scowl at her, but she has no fear of my retribution; she winks at me.

"Well I haven't heard it," Kate says. My stomach literally sinks because I know things are going to get raunchier before they get better. I just hope not too pornographic.

"His shirt was off and let me tell you, the boy looked like he was sculpted instead of birth. Think Channing Tatum, the way the sweat was glistening over his six pack, Luke was Magic Mike!" Jazz exclaims slapping her hands on the table shaking the booth.

I pin her with a glare. She knows she's exaggerating. I'll admit Luke has it going on, but the Channing comparison was a bit much and Jazz knows it. However, holding my gaze she mocks me, pretending to drop the mic.

"I didn't have to see him naked, seeing the way his ass looked in his jeans was enough for me," Amanda responds.

"The same for seeing the outline of is dick in jeans," Kate gushes, piling on the sexist comments.

Pitching forward, I collapse on the table, resting my head on my folded arms. Reflecting, I think to myself if they only knew that what God created on the inside surpassed the work he'd done on his exterior. Luke is far more than the pretty face and rock hard body they're objectifying. I'd share, but it would be a waste of my time with them like this.

Jazz throws her body across my shoulders. "It's okay Ana. I promise we'll beat up on him tomorrow when we're sober," she coos.

"Yeah, tomorrow," Kate and Amanda say in unison, before the three of them burst out laughing.

**Sunday**

We spend most of Sunday, lounging recouping from Saturday night. And of course, the ladies reneged and didn't bash Luke like they'd promised. Actually his name didn't come up until we'd started to talk about Hawaii. Since the weekend had gone so well, we decided to meet up more frequently and Kate suggested that Amanda and Jazz join us on one leg of the Hawaii trip that Luke had given me.

Once we had our next meet -up planned, we danced around the elephant in the room that was the twisted liaison between Amanda and Kate. That is until Jazz intentionally brings it up during one of our discussion about nothing in particular. While I was horrified, Jazz took it in stride pointing out that it was part of Amanda's modus operandi when they hung out at Harvard; a side of her I wasn't privy to because I spent the majority of my time with Luke. Modus operandi or not, Kate isn't gay and that's what troubles me about the escapade. Picking up on my distress, Amanda pulls me aside right before she and Jazz leaves for the airport.

"I want you to know that Kate and I are cool. Kate is a party girl and a big girl, she can handle herself. I know she's also not gay. She was experimenting, and I was looking for a good time. So we both got what we wanted."

"Look, I'm worried yes, but as long as you two are good with what happened last night, it's none of my business. I just don't want it to affect our fledgling friendships," I say

"It won't." Amanda then pulls me into a goodbye hug, "I promise," she whispers.

We release each other at the same time. "Thank you guys for coming, it was so much fun and just what I needed," I say

"I didn't want to bring this up in front of Jazz, but I was sorry to hear about the baby."

My smile slips. "Thank you, but If you don't mind, I don't want to go back to that dark place."

"Sure, I understand but there is one more thing that's been on my mind. The contract that I found, I still don't get it."

My skin crawls at the mention of that asinine contract. "It was stupid, forget about it. Anyway, it's irrelevant now."

* * *

**Monday - 3 weeks later**

"Okay, guys everything is looking good. Our group is way ahead of schedule and with some minor tweaking our team's reports will be perfect. A couple more meetings and we can put this baby to bed," Nick says dismissing us.

I start stuffing my notes back into my backpack and I hear Paul calling me."Yes," I reply

"So you switched your day off again."

"I have an appointment." I peek at the clock on my phone, "which I need to get to right now. Walk me to my car?"

The talk with Paul took a little longer than I'd planned, now I'm running behind. So rushing, I throw my backpack inside the Beetle, and then I slide in. Taking all the shortcuts available to me, I make it to the office building with only a minute to spare. So grabbing my backpack, I leap out of the car and run to the unassuming two-story brick building.

Flying around the corner, I zoom down the hall the short distance to Dr. Ryan's office. Pushing open the door, I race inside and plop down on the sofa taking Dr. Ryan by surprise. "Sorry, I'm late," I pant.

Quizzically, Dr. Ryan smiles at me, and peeking at her watch she chuckles. "You could've taken your time; you know?" She gestures. "You still have a couple of minutes so relax, catch your breath. We'll get started shortly." She says, as she continues reading her notes. Tossing my hair over my shoulders, I try to relax but I'm too hyped; today promises to be a very enlightening session.

Just as Dr. Ryan looks up from her pad and is about to start the session, it is then that my phone chooses to beep. "Sorry," I murmur as I fumble with it. "Sorry," I repeat as my trembling fingers manage to finally get it turned off, and I quickly proceed to shove it into my backpack.

Dr. Ryan then gives me a quaint smile. "Anastasia, relax," she implores, "What has you so jittery today? It can't just be about the tardiness; of which you were not. By chance, does it have anything to do Luke or the breakup?"

"Oh God no," I blurt out, "ironically, it's one of the few things that I'd gotten right. We parted on good terms, and any issues that were lingering were alleviated with his letter," I mutter.

"Yes the letter, he remains so in tuned to you, that even separated he knows what you need. By writing to you, unbeknownst to him, he absolved you of the guilt you'd been hanging on to."

My eyes roll up in my head as I try to keep the tears back. "That's Luke. It's one of the things I miss about him; the way he took care of me when I didn't know I needed to be taken care of," I murmur.

Dr. Ryan flicks her pen. "His letter was quite endearing and old fashioned. In this world of technology and endless apps, the fact that he'd crafted a handwritten letter for you is refreshing. He's a unique young man."

Proudly, I smile. "Yes, he's one of a kind," I say, "I hope you don't mind that I didn't' share the details of the letter with you. He'd put so much of himself into it, I wanted to keep the content just between us. No offense; I'd relinquished so much control of the end of our relationship to you that I want to reclaim some it back for myself," I say.

"No offense taken, quite the opposite…I'm proud that your confident enough to make that determination and to tell me. For me, the content isn't important as knowing it exists; unless there was something in it that bothered you."

A warm smile kisses my lips. "No, it was quintessential Luke; loving, encouraging and selfless," I say

"Good. You'd made remarkable strides, and I'd hate to see you going backwards," she says. "Now that we've carved Luke's likeness onto Mount Rushmore." She lets out a sardonic snicker. "Let's move on to what has you on edge."

I move my backpack to the floor so I can get more comfortable on the sofa. Pulling one leg up, I bend it at the knee letting my foot rest on the edge. I don't want my converse to soil the pristine cream fabric. "Everyday I've been religious about following your recommendations, coming up with three truths that I tell someone and three I tell myself. It has been very cathartic, helping me come to terms with some troubling issues and making me better equip to address them; such as being honest with Kate about her excessive drinking and having a frank conversation with Paul Clayton about his chances at a relationship with me. To the more central concerns like having a heart-to-heart with my dad, coming to grips with my feelings for my mother and Christian.

Finishing her notations Dr. Ryan puts her pen down. "I'm pleased that you've taken to the exercise and are seeing tangible results. So where would you like to start with your list?"

"I'll start with my dad and save Christian for last."

"Okay, the floor is yours."

"Last weekend, I met with Ray and told him what I needed from him as we forge this new father-daughter relationship."

"And what is that?"

I sigh. "I need him to be more open with his feelings; mainly I need to hear him say he loves me more often. I need him to be my dad in every sense of the word," I murmur.

"You describe him as taciturn so how did he take your request?"

"He was Ray, stoic and amenable," I say.

"Good. We can put a check by his name. Now your mother." She flips the page on her notepad.

I untie the converse on my dangling foot to remove it, so I can put it on the sofa and pull it tighter to my upper thigh. "My, mother," I say and my voice falters.

"Anastasia, you've come this far, you can make it to the finish line. Tell me what's the revelation with your mother?" Uncharacteristic for Dr. Ryan, she's showing patience; normally this would be the point where her annoyance with me would be on display.

"I wouldn't call it a revelation, it felt more like an aha moment. I was forced to admit to myself that I loved her," I say, "I love my mother."

Dr. Ryan studies my face. "And how do you feel that? It's huge, considering that no more than 2 months ago you were convinced that you detested the woman."

I pinch the bridge of my nose to keep the snot back so it won't come down like the trickling of water from my eyes. "It's funny how easily hate can roll off the tongue and love gets stuck there like a formidable foe. How disconcerting."

Dr. Ryan grimaces. "Because love is the more complex emotion, Anastasia. It requires us to think and make hard choices. Some rational and some irrational. On the other hand, hate is much simpler for our brains to process and requires little thought if any. Someone does something unspeakable, we hate them. It's automatic and easier to compartmentalize. We tell ourselves it's what's expected of us, because to love the person would mean to be complicit in their crime. When it's the farthest thing from the truth; to love in the face of insurmountable odds requires us doing something bigger than ourselves- forgive," she concludes.

"When you put it like that, it makes sense. I didn't think about it in those terms."

"Keep in mind, I'm oversimplifying things a bit. Love is complicated, and we'd never be able to unravel the beauty and the mystery of it in a lifetime less more in one therapy session. As long as, you remember that love and being loved is much more about the recipient than the giver, you'll have a head start."

I break into her monologue. "Yes, the theory of luck." I snort.

"I know it doesn't fit into your more romantic vision, but it works. People are who they are, it's up to each individual to decide what they can accept and is willing to forgive; the rest is gravy. Because you'd made the decision to love the person in spite of their earthly failings. Forgiveness is the key, it's what gives our hearts the capacity to love," she says.

"Forgiveness, I get it; however, I had to rely on something from AA to get me there-" Dr. Ryan cuts me off before I can recite the verse.

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change those I can; and the wisdom to know the difference. The serenity prayer I know it well, but I'm surprised that you do."

I smirk. " You forget I spent a lot of my time in the Foster Care system; you'd be surprised by the things I know."

"I bet," she says, "So, how did the prayer help you come to your truth?"

"By helping me to see that I was the change I wanted. If things were going to be different in the future between my mother and me, I was the change agent. Which meant I had to accept that my mother is a monster, but she's my mother. Through that acceptance, I could forgive her," I say.

"Then you could love her?" Dr. Ryan says finishing my thought.

"Yes," I whisper.

"How profound. Sometimes I see glimpses of the product you put forward to the public and I understand why people perceive you to be wise beyond your years. So competent."

I giggle. "I'm sure there's a compliment in there." I tease.

Dr Ryan gives me a wry smile. "The whole of it is a compliment, but don't get a big head." She pauses. "Now, I want to hear more about the journey of discovery you took to reach this destination."

"Wasn't it Lao Tzu that said, 'the journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.' " It's more of a rhetorical statement, but Dr. Ryan can't resist pointing out what she views as a slight.

She smirks. "What, no Maya Angelou."

I return her cheekiness. "I'm well-read you know, so I'm capable of quoting more than Maya Angelou."

She sighs audibly. "I stand corrected, please continue," she says.

I acquiesce and pick up where I'd left off. "My first step to forgiveness, meant letting go off all the ways she'd hurt and disappointed me. Like staying silent while the men in her life did despicable things to me. Like missing my first day of school, not being available to bring baked goods to my class on my birthdays, or simply never making breakfast for me like the other kids' mommies. And most recently, not being there for me when I got my heart broken for the first time." Jamming my hands in my hair, I throw my head back in exasperation. When I bring my head forward, the tears are trailing down my face. "I had to embrace why I hated her the most and then let it go," I say in a strangled voice.

"Why did you hate her Anastasia? Say the words out loud so you can truly be free." She encourages.

I take a deep cleansing breath. "I hated her because she took away my mommy. She took away her ability to be the mother I deserved. It's why I'd hated her all these years. But, like every other time in my life I had to be the grown up. Accept her as the monster she is; in order, to love her." I sob.

"I'm humbled, by your breakthrough because you've put so much thought into it. And I hope you understand that this is about you. You've taken control of your life; yanking away her power to destroy you. You weighed the options and you chose love over hate. That has to be freeing."

I take both hands and wipe my face. "I have to admit, it is. I definitely feel like a better person. For so long it felt like something was gnawing at my gut," I say.

"So, what does the future hold for you and your mother?"

"My immediate future does not include her. At some point in my lifetime, I have no doubt that I will want to bring her into my world, but for the foreseeable future I'm content with just loving her from afar."

"If this is all that comes out of our therapy, I could die a happy therapist. I can see the change in you from the broken and distraught young woman that first entered my office."

"Yeah, that was my lowest point. But, I'm beginning to feel more comfortable in my own skin. Exploring each truth has been like peeling back the layers of an onion that are my life getting closer and closer to the young woman, person, and human being I was meant to be," I say

Dr. Ryan chortles. "Hold on their Confucius," she says, "let's not get ahead of ourselves and set too lofty a goal for your development. Therapy isn't a quick fix nor is it a fix-it- all. I'm going to quote you quoting Lao Tzu. You're still so young, and while you're on the right track, these are only the first steps on your journey to self-discovery. You have so much more life to experience before you can begin to unlock the true wisdom of who you really are." Dr. Ryan removes her glasses. "I see the wheels turning. I haven't forgotten that you have something more troubling on your mind. And since Christian Grey is the last person on our list I'm guessing it has something to do with him."

I unfurl my leg so both feet are on the floor; one with a sneaker one without - I need to feel grounded for this. "What if one of my darkest truth is that I'm in love with Christian Grey and the other truth is I don't want to be," I murmur.

She returns her glasses to her face. "First I'd want to understand why you're describing the truth as dark."

"Because like my mother, Christian is a monster," I quip.

"And like your mother you discerned that he was deserving of your forgiveness and thus your love," she quickly responds.

"Do you think there's an instance where the sin is too egregious that forgiveness is not possible?" I ask.

"It's not for me to judge. But that's not the question, the real question to consider is your threshold for forgiveness. What are you capable of forgiving and what can you live with? For each person, it will be different." There's a pregnant pause; I can't let go of her gaze. An energy I can't explain radiates between us.

I'm the first to blink. "Like with my mother, to love Christian meant letting go of the pain and resentment. The way he'd treated me after I gave him my virginity. The vile words he'd used against me. Him turning his back on me when I was pregnant, and the most heinous offense of them all...not being there for me when I'd lost our baby." I sniff.

"So, that's why you think loving him is dark and why you don't want to love him?"

"Yep," I snap, "it's sick. How can I think of loving a man like that!"

"Anastasia you're not on trial, no one is judging you. Both things can be true but at one point they're going to intersect and only one will be your truth," she says, "First we'll need to delve into the two opposing truths. We got lucky with Luke and to some extent your mother; the issues with them were easily resolved and wrapped up in neat little packages. But that was the exception, this is the rule. Life is messy and sometimes you have to wade through the muck. So, we're gonna have to start wading," she says sardonically."

My eyes dart around the room searching for something to keep me in my body before I float away. "I lied, Christian was right. He was right about everything. I wanted to get pregnant by him. I orchestrated sleeping with him. I did all of it." I confess to everything in one strangled breath. "There you have the whole ugly truth. Are you ready to judge me now?" My lips quiver.

"The question was about you. You think you've done the unforgivable?" she whispers.

"Ironic isn't it?" A nervous chuckle escapes. "I'd turned out to be the biggest hypocrite of them all. Judging Christian and my mother so harshly when in the end I'm no better than they are. I'm the monster I'd railed against. I'm the whore, he labeled me." My shoulders start shuddering and I bury my face in my hands repeating the demeaning word over and over. Under the light of the truth, the word doesn't sound degrading to my ears as it leaves my lips; regrettably it has an air of authenticity. I feel the sofa dip and suddenly Dr. Ryan's arm is draped over my shoulders comforting me and leaning I let my head fall against her chest.

Now, I understand the surge of energy, we'd connected on a level beyond Dr. and patient. Perhaps, it was preparing us for this moment.

"Listen to me. I never want to hear that word coming out of your mouth again," she mutters as she caresses my arm. "Don't claim it."

Meekly, I nod my head against her. "Okay," I mumble.

Gently, she nudges my head forcing me to lift it and she moves her arm. Then grabbing hold of my shoulders, she turns me so we're face to face. "The word is ugly and debasing, it's what men use when they feel threatened; as a way to humiliate and degrade us to keep us in our place. But they underestimate who we are as women, we're the more resilient sex. Don't let him make you feel less than, prove him wrong. Prove that he can't hang his shortcomings on you. In my personal and professional opinion, a man calling a woman out of her name is tantamount to abuse." I can appreciate her strong stance, but the accusation of abuse leveled against Christian is unfounded and has taken me by surprise. She didn't call his name; she didn't have to.

Eyes glazed I stare into her resolute eyes. "But I'm the hypocrite," I echo to deflect some of the blame off of Christian.

She removes her hands from my shoulders. "Stop crying," she orders nicely. "If the lie we tell ourselves is worse than the lie we tell someone else, then the truth has to stand for something. Confessing your wrongdoings to yourself means more than anyone's forgiveness. Remember, this whole exploration is about you finding your truth. Sometimes that's not going to mesh with what other people think of you and or even how you see yourself. But that's why truth speaks to power. The example of the onion you used earlier was perfect, you're peeling away the layers so you can get to you. And whatever you that is revealed as a result, you'll be able to celebrate her because she will be your truth," she says, as she compassionately wipes the dampness from my face with her fingers. She drops her hands and comes to her feet. "No time for a pity party. Let's talk through it ."

Walking to her desk, Dr. Ryan picks up the box of tissue and brings it to me. Taking it from her, I feel compel to start talking right away. "Let me start from the beginning," I croak as I fidget with the Kleenex in my hands.

"Continue, I'm listening," Dr. Ryan says as she picks up the items she'd laid on her chair.

I wipe a tissue over my eyes. "It was the morning of his parent's Gala. I discovered that I'd missed a pill and was horrified because it had never happened before. I was religious about taking my birth control pills for no other reason than, I didn't want to suffer painful menstrual cramps. Initially, I was panicked and started to take it right away, but then an evil voice in the back of my head told me not too. Reminding me of my plan to seduce Christian. I wasn't thinking rationally; I thought about the consequences and was fine with them. In my mind, the worst case scenario was getting pregnant by him. So, I decided to take my chances and didn't take either pill." I sigh with relief. The ugly truth was in the open.

"No," Dr. Ryan says sternly. "The worst that could've had happened was getting AIDs and dying. You had unprotected sex, with a man who admitted to having a storied sexual history. It was reckless and careless, you put yourself at risk," she lectures.

More composed, I sit up. "I wasn't that naïve, Christian assured me he was healthy and I trusted that he wouldn't lie to me about something so important," I say in my defense.

She has a cynical expression on her face. "I volunteer at a health clinic, and if I had a penny for every young woman that has given me the same canned response, right after an HIV diagnosis, I'd be a wealthy woman. Sorry to get on a soap box, but it irks me to see so many young women contracting such a deadly disease when something as simple as wearing a condom would've prevented it. To say I'm a big proponent of using a condom when it comes to casual sex, regardless of the other birth control methods is an understatement. So, for me your biggest mistake wasn't skipping the pill, it was skipping out on the condom," she says passionately.

"I get it. Because if I'm honest at the time I was too horny and committed to being with him to think about safe sex."

Her features soften. "Well, now you know. Okay let's get back on track, I've been indulgent enough," she says getting her pen and pad ready. "You know the drill; I'm going to ask some baseline questions." I nod my head and prepare for the rapid fire questioning. "Was sleeping with Christian Grey your only reason for going to the Gala?"

"No."

"Was there any reason that it had to happen on that night?"

"Yes. Simple, I'd thought it was my last best chance. I didn't think I'd have another opportunity."

"Had you considered other options? Say, lure him into asking you on a date instead of going directly to his bed?"

I roll my eyes. "I was 17 at the time. Do you really think he would've dated someone so young," I say snidely?

"You tell me. You thought 17 was old enough for him to sleep with you so why would dating be so absurd?" She asks sardonically. "Now I'm judging you." Sitting up straighter she glowers at me.

I get defensive. "In some form or another, I'd dreamed about that man for over half of my life. So to finally to be in his presence was overwhelming to almost intoxicating. Leading up to that night, we'd flirted heavily. I'd convinced myself that he wanted to be with me; as much as, I wanted to be with him but my age was in his way. I knew that in Christian's mind, I'd always be that 8-year-old little girl. So, I needed to change it; get him to see me as an age appropriate bed partner. I was so infatuated with him that he became my obsession, and I was determined to have him be my first. Dating him wasn't a goal, I didn't view it as a viable option. I'm not even sure I see it as an option now." My words get slurred at the end.

"So sleeping with him was a goal, but not dating him. I still don't see it, why you'd settled. You were a virgin after all; not some nymphomaniac."

"I told you, I wasn't thinking rationally. I can't explain it, my body responded to him in ways it never had to any other man. He owned me. I had tunnel vision. As soon as, I got the invitation my mind went right into planning mode. Concocting ways, I could conceal my age from him and get him into bed. See, he didn't know he was sleeping with a 17-year-old girl and he definitely didn't know she'd intentionally skipped her birth control pills."

Dr. Ryan glances at her pad. "We've covered a lot of grounds so let me recap. Dating him wasn't an option. You lied to him about being 21 and finally you wanted to sleep with him so he could impregnate you."

"No," I say forcibly.

Dr. Ryan pretends to check her notes. "What did I get wrong?" she asks incredulously.

"I didn't sleep with him to get pregnant; I slept with him because I was mad about him," I say forcibly.

She smirks. "There, that's your truth. You handled the entire situation dumbly; the concept was manipulative, you were careless with your birth control pills and reckless for having sex without a condom. But in the end your plan wasn't to entrap him, you simply took advantage of an opportunity that had presented itself," she concludes.

"How can you let me off so easily after all I'd confessed to you. I lied to him from the beginning to the end."

"Anastasia, I don't think I can dole out a punishment that will rival what you're doing to yourself. It's time you start forgiving yourself." A sly smile crosses her lips. "Listen and listen well; men like Christian Grey are not seduced unless they want to be seduced. You weren't in control, he only led you to believe that. You were simply topping from the bottom, but he was the one ultimately in control. So stop cutting him slack, and give yourself some. You weren't some femme fatale that led him down the path to purgatory. If anything naively you followed him."

"I never thought of it that way," I say.

"That's why you have me and we talk things out. Stop making excuses for him and see him as he is today and not as the protagonist in your fairy tale. Starting with no longer referring to him as a monster; the term is just as fantastical as Prince Charming. Neither one is a realistic description. He's a man who has done some monstrous things but he is not a monster. In the same way that he's enchanting, but not Prince Charming. People are not all good or all bad; human beings are multi-faceted three dimensional creatures. We're not flat cardboard cutout caricatures, like a Flat Stanley for example." I can't help but giggle at the reference, but, unfortunately, my outburst stops her flow.

"Sorry, because of my work at the Boys and Girls club, I've walked around with my fair share of the cardboard boy, but it was funny hearing you refer to him." My outburst was uncalled so I felt obliged to offer her an explanation.

"Anastasia, there are small children in my life too. But the point I was trying is that we all fall somewhere between the two extremes. Let's take for example the two people that personifies evil for you; Christian Grey and your mother. At some point, they'd both demonstrated their propensity for goodness. Your mother when she intervened on your behalf the night her boyfriend was about to rape you. Christian when he finally agreed to let you keep custody of the baby. Then there's you, who by all account is an exemplary young woman, who on one day made one bad choice after another. So should that nullify all your goodness? No. In the same way that you found forgiveness for them, there is forgiveness for you."

I struggle to find my voice. "Being linked with them in this manner is hard for me to swallow," I say.

"Because you have the sickness; you want people to like you. To be seen as the perennial good girl."

I shrug my shoulders slightly. "Maybe."

"Anastasia, you're only human. You're not without sin." She winks. "But, you're holding yourself accountable. So are you ready to hold him accountable for that night too?" Her question baffles me, I thought it was obvious how I felt.

I stare intently at her. "I am holding him accountable. I've been very upfront with you regarding my feelings on the subject."

"Not in a meaningful way. Yes, your words have been forceful and colored with emotion. But you've been reactive, hate is a reactionary emotion. Your guilt has blocked you from putting any real substance behind the words or even allowing yourself to believe them," she responds.

I give her a weak smile that doesn't come close to meeting my eyes. "The guilt is earned; I did orchestrate this whole mess."

Dr. Ryan sits forward with her elbows on her thighs. "Let me be blunt..."

Mockingly, I giggle deliberately interrupting her this time. "You mean you haven't been?" I say dryly.

Dr. Ryan ignores my snide comment; she soldiers on. "Christian Grey didn't get to where he is by being stupid and easily manipulated. I'm going to let you in on a little secret. He knew. Mr. Grey, knew everything or at least suspected it. Your age; may he didn't know you were as young as 17 but he certainly knew you were not 21. You can't tell me that random people can think that you're a tween and, not Christian Grey, who has somewhat of a more familiar relationship with you. Give me a break. Secondly, if he were so against an unplanned pregnancy he wouldn't have left the birth control up to you in the first place; he would've protected his interest, no pun intended and worn a condom. But in my humble professional opinion, his small head won the battle over his larger more sensible one. He didn't use a condom for the simple fact that he wanted his dick to have unfettered access to the walls of your virginal pussy." I slap my hand over my mouth gasping at her vulgarity.

I peel my hand away. "Oh my, God," I yelp. My face is hot, I must be ten shades of red by now.

Sitting up straight, Dr. Ryan tilts her head to one side. "Anastasia you should know me by now. Did you really think I'd use some euphemism to describe these body parts?"

"It's not that, I just wasn't expecting you to go there at all."

"Sorry, I thought I'd set it up for you and you could see where I was headed. I didn't mean to take your innocent ears by surprise." She smirks and continues. "Also keep in mind that Christian Grey is a wealthy man with tremendous resources. At the snap of a finger, he could've found out any information he wanted to about you. But for whatever reason, he didn't and that's why he's kicking himself. He knows he messed up. His over the top rhetoric and asshole behavior in reaction to your pregnancy are all tells."

I put my fingers on my temples. "This is too much to process," I whine.

"It's simple really, he needs to accept the consequences of his decisions just as much as you. He's megalomaniac that played on your innocence, and your weakness for him. He was the older and much wiser of the two of you and that is why I put the bulk of the blame on his shoulders."

I lean in some. "So, are you saying that I was his pawn?"

"No, Anastasia, I am not. That would mean giving you a free pass and you don't come out of this looking like the innocent you like to project. You have culpability too. I just want you to put a real life perspective on the untenable situation. Like your mother and Mr. Grey; you're all human beings capable of making unfathomable decisions. You found it in your heart to forgive them, then provide yourself the same grace. Everything you did was deplorable ; from the inception of the plan to the execution. But it was more foolish than sinister.

"How do you know that I didn't intentionally miss the pill in the first place?" I challenge.

"I don't."

"So you don't want to ask me baseline questions to find out the answer."

"No. That's something you'll need to reconcile with you and your conscious. Contrary to believe, I don't think everything can be worked out in therapy. There are some things you'll need to make peace with on your own; it's how you will truly grow."

"So what I do now?"

"Go home, take in everything we'd discussed today, and then reevaluate your feelings. Remember everything isn't meant to be solved in a day; this is going to be an arduous process. So this your homework. As part of your journal exercise, on a blank sheet of paper make three columns. One write why you love him, one why you don't want too, and the third write down your expectations."

"Why the expectations?"

"I want you to manage your expectations. You didn't set a very high goal before; yes, Christian is an extremely handsome man, but I think settling for one night with him was beneath you. You became a cliché and you're better than that."

I sigh. "If only I knew what I know now I'd do things so differently."

Her lips quirk up. "Isn't it your favorite poet that said when we know better we do better?

I laugh. "Yes, that would be Dr. Maya Angelou."

* * *

Crawling up on the bed, I prop my back up against the headboard and pull the covers up to my waist. Then I start scrolling through my texts.

**Hey u where have u ben- Copper**

**Ian says hello- Jazz** \- "I still can't believe those two are a couple," I mumble to myself.

**Hey kiddo coming into town available for dinner- Damien**

Since there's nothing requiring my immediate attention, I set the phone down on the bedside table. Still restless, I lean over and pulling out the top drawer, I pick up the letter and small box from Luke. Leaving the drawer open, I sit back up. Flipping the box open, I inspect the sparkling bauble yet again and then relaxing against the headboard I start reading the letter...yet again for what feels like the umpteenth time.

_Hi,_

_I hope you're great. Before sitting down and actually starting this letter, I'd thought it was going to be difficult to write, but actually it's turning out to be very easy. I guess when you've made peace with your decision, there's no leftover resentment. Before I start rambling, let me get to the point._

_First, I wanted to update you on my wear about. We won't have any contact with each other yet I feel the need to keep you apprised of my comings and goings. I've resigned from my job and will backpack through Europe and Asia. Don't worry, I won't end up on the battlefield in Afghanistan, this trip is purely pleasure. Like you, I decided to take this time to reflect. I'll be traveling with friends, a few you know but most you don't. I'd tossed around the idea of sending you a postcard along the way but thought better of it. I didn't want you to mistake the gesture as passive aggressive pressure from me. We'd left things clean between us and I don't want to be the one to muddle them. So this will be the last time I reach out to you. Maybe sometime down the road, when we've both healed and is ready we can meet up for lunch or something mundane like that._

_When I return, I plan to finally start that security business I'd talked about. I just have to decide where, D.C, New York or Boston. I won't lie the nostalgic part of me has Boston pretty high up on the list, but the rational part has all but eliminated it in lieu of the other more practical locations._

_This is the point where I get sentimental, but I won't tell you that I miss you every night when I go to sleep and every morning when I wake up. I won't tell you that I miss getting your tea or jogging with you. And I definitely won't tell you that I still love you like you belong to me. No, I definitely won't tell you that, instead I'll tell that I'm happy. Happy that I've been able to give you what you need. The space to grow and become the independently fabulous young woman you're destined to be._

_Now the second reason for the letter, you're holding it. The engagement ring. I wanted you to have it. I'm positive that one day I will meet a girl and want to marry her, but she'll never be suitable enough for this ring. It was made for you like I was. That is what I will always believe no matter what has happened between us._

_Please do me a favor, and promise me that you won't let my sacrifice be for not. Fall in love completely and deeply. I'm young and I've been luckier than most, already I've had two great loves. One I fell in love with. The other my heart fell in love with you and I followed. Take it from me the latter is better. It is the purest and that is what I wish for you._

_Remember to Live, Love, and Laugh_

_Luke_

* * *

**In the past**

**CPOV**

"Man where you are?" Elliot bellows.

"Listen, Elliot, I'll be there when I get there. You're lucky I'm coming at all. I can't believe I let you talk me into this in the first place. You know I don't mingle with my staff."

"Bro, I've told you once and I'll tell you again, it is why your people don't like you. Luke has been with you for a couple of years so you can come hang out with him for a few minutes before he leaves your employment for good. Some of your other GEH lackeys are here too." He laughs.

"Luke knows I appreciate the job he has done for me; he doesn't need to me toss back a beer with him. I told him he'd always have a job with me so I've done my part and can stay home."

Elliot chuckles. "Oh no, you don't get your high fluting ass down here," he says. "Hey did you ever meet Luke's girl?"

"No, why?"

"Just wondering what she's like. I thought you would've had a background check completed on her and subject her to a cavity search, you're so anal."

"Fuck you. I didn't need to, the relationship wasn't that stable. I still don't understand what this has to do with anything."

"Nothing, I just think she's the reason Luke's getting out of dodge. And I suspect she was pretty good in the sack, it's the only logical explanation on why a man would lose his mind over a woman."

"And I'm the one people call the emotional cripple."

He laughs. "That's a good one. Yes, because I'm better at hiding it than you. Enough talking gets your ass down here. By the way, I can't believe Luke would give up the shitload of money you pay him. I'm telling you Bro, he going nuts over losing that good loving."

"Now you got me curious, but not enough to do something about it. And don't worry about Luke, he isn't hurting for money, on top of what he's made here his old man is pretty wealthy," I say. "Look, I'm coming but one drink and I'm out of there. I'll drive us home in your car, so Taylor can stay."

* * *

**Present**

My phone beeps. Reluctantly, I fold the letter and stuff it along with the ring back into the drawer. Then I pick up my phone. Dr. Grace's name appears on the screen and I have to do a double take.

"Ana," I say timidly.

"Ana dear it's Grace Grey," she says.

"Yes, Dr. Grace I saw your name on the phone, plus I'd know your voice any where." I giggle.

"Of course, I keep forgetting about these new phones. Anyways I hope I didn't wake you," she says.

"No, I was just doing some reading."

"Well, good. I'm reaching out because I wanted to invite you to dinner. There are some things I'd like to discuss with you regarding the upcoming Gala. And I was hoping you'd be able to stay the weekend or at least overnight. Since you'd come back into our lives, I've barely spent any time talking with you and I want to change that."

I think of saying yes, then I think of the possibility of running into Christian and immediately I change my mind. "Okay, I'll see what I can do," comes out of my mouth and moving the phone away so she can't hear, I curse myself.

"Great, I'm so happy. Since, Kate and Elliot are no longer seeing each other I'm not inviting her. Plus, Elliot is out of town anyway. Sadly, Christian is traveling on business and he won't be in attendance either so you'll miss him. Sorry, about that, but this weekend is my only free weekend for a while and I didn't want to postpone seeing you any longer."

I breathe a sigh of relief and get excited about the trip.


	35. Chapter 35: Isn't It Ironic

**Chapter 35:** Isn't it Ironic

**Disclaimer:** FSOG belongs to EL James

**A/N:** Thank you for reading, following and reviewing. Please enjoy.

I'd slipped up royally; by accident I'd divulged to Dr. Grace that I'd suffered a miscarriage. She clings to me, as she processes the news. After a relatively quick, but fruitful discussion about the gala, Dr. Grace pulled me into the library for what she cutely, called a girl's chit chat. But our jovial conversation, soon turned somber when I'd open big mouth. She'd lulled me into this comfortableness that had me seeing her as an equal, instead of my more superior elder; but most importantly the unsuspecting grandmother of my now-dead fetus.

Enveloping her in my arms, I commiserate with her, doing my best to not spiral back into the abyss. It feels as if I'm being eaten alive from the inside out, as an internal battle rages. Do I keep her in the dark, or do I bring her into my dimmed light; nowadays a desolate film is momentarily blocking my glow. Of late, I'd been all about my truth, but I can't discern if this is mine to tell or his. Laying my head on Dr. Grace's, I make small circular motions on her back, as I contemplate the two choices.

My back is to the door, but my Christian Spidey sensors are alerted; I don't have to behold him to know it's him. "Mother." The phantom voice calls, and immediately Dr. Grace disentangles from me. What is he doing here, he's not supposed to be here.

Dr. Grace leaps to her feet and; as soon as, she's steady, she darts to Christian flinging herself at him. "Oh, Christian." His arms outstretched, he catches her and burying her face in his chest, she sobs. Bewildered, Christian wraps his mother up in his arms, as his piercing gray eyes, fixes on me searching for answers. Reticent, I give away nothing to him. Agitated, he ceases scrutinizing my face for clues, returning his focus to his mother.

Christian head droops, and he angles it, in an attempt to search his mother's face. "Mom," Christian says softly, "please talk to me. Tell me why you're so upset?"

Dr. Grace lifts her head an inch. "Our-Ana-had- a miscarriage." She hiccups. If he could, Christian would crucify me where I'd stand; his fury is visibly coursing through his body. I wonder if his mother can feel it? As he deals with his fit of anger aimed squarely at me, I come to grips with my own. But I'll confess, I didn't expect Dr. Grace to be so forthcoming; Christian didn't even have to coerce the information out of her. I'd known she'd eventually tell him, but I didn't calculate that I'd be here to witness it. If _Mr. I'm so unbelievingly handsome in my well-fitting black suit, white shirt striped tie_, hadn't shown up I'd be safely ensconced in my humble abode in Portland when the uncomfortable conversation took place. Pushing out of Christian's embrace, Dr. Grace twists forward, facing me. "I'm sorry Anastasia, I didn't mean to share your private business." At the same time, Christian eyes me intently.

His stare becomes so intense, it's as if he's trying to get a message through to me via telepathy. It's too fervent, I have to avert my gaze. "It's okay," I murmur.

"No, I should've asked you first." Her voice cracks. Dr. Grace is so apologetic when I'm the one who should be begging her for forgiveness. But I'd reached the conclusion that it is Christian's story to share with his parents. Perhaps, this is the push he needs.

I give her weak smile. "I'm fine with Christian knowing, but if you don't mind I'd like to keep it from Mia," I say.

"And Elliot." Christian adds and I'm not sure why since his brother already knows. In fact, Elliot's been one of my biggest supporters.

Dr. Grace swivels and looks askance at Christian. "Darling, why do you care if your brother knows?" She sniffles.

Half-heartedly Christian shrugs. "He's not discrete and has a big mouth. Mia would find out for sure," he says. Seeing that Elliot has kept our secret, I reason that Christian's fake objection is a smokescreen.

Christian's hand reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket and my eyes follow. Pulling out a perfectly laundered white handkerchief, he hands it to his mother. She takes it, dabbing at first the left and then the right eye. "Thank you," she says inspecting the hanky. "Always the proper gentleman," she beams proudly.

He nods warmly. "My elegant, refined mother taught me well." Christian winks and pulls her to his body for a loving embrace. Seeing him with his mother in a heartwarming manner, always makes me wistful that it was his true state of being.

Disengaging, Dr. Grey gently pats him on the chest. "I have to admit, you're right about your brother," she says taking a step back. "Enough with me, Anastasia is the one that had the miscarriage." Christian bristles. His mother thinks he's emotional, but I know better. "Go. Show Ana some love; give her a hug. It's the least we can do since we weren't there when she needed us the most." Her voice falters. "Some kind of family we'd turned out to be for her." I see her lips quivering and I want to go to her, but my feet are stuck to the floor.

Transfixed, I watch as Christian reluctantly walks the short distance to me and for the sake of his mother we play nice. We hold on to each other, like allies unifying instead of adversaries waging an unholy war. He smells divine, and then he always does. For once I'd like him to smell rancid, seeing as his essence is rotten through and through. The stench would give him a noticeable flaw; as he is, he can too easily camouflage his true nature. Unless you cross him, then you see the man behind the impeccable packaging.

Christian tilts his head, so his lips are close enough to almost touch my ear. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" His whisper is low, husky, and menacing; chilling in fact, but his words are ineffectual. I'm numb to his callousness. Then bringing his head forward, we engage in a more conciliatory and gracious exchange, for the benefit of his mother.

"Christian," Dr. Grace yelps.

Releasing me, he pivots to face his mom. "Yes," Christian replies.

Dr. Grace is pensive. "What are you doing here? Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to see you, but we weren't expecting you." Hallelujah. She'd asked the question, that's been dogging me since he'd first arrived.

"Some of my meetings were canceled," he says.

"Whatever, the reason I'm glad you're here. Will you stay for dinner?" Dr. Grace asks.

Christian, runs his hand through his hair. "Yes, I think I will," he says and my body visibly sags.

"Ana. Sweetie, it just dawned on me. Most likely, you were pregnant when you were here for dinner the last time?" Dr. Grace says suspiciously and immediately I perk up. Where is she going with this, I think to myself? Is it possible that this can get any more awkward? "Did you know then? Did the young man know?" Her tone is downright hostile when she poses the last question. Well, I got my answer and it's a big fat yes.

Christian breaks in before any words can leave my mouth. "Mom. Now you're getting too personal," he says, cautioning his mother respectfully.

"My darling boy I understand what you're saying, but aren't you the least bit curious to find out what kind of young man would abandon his pregnant girlfriend," she says.

Horrified, I pin Christian with my gaze, but he looks unconcern. So I make eye contact with his mother. "It's complicated, Dr. Grace and there's more to the story," I say

She touches me on my forearm. "Ana, I'm sorry you don't owe me an explanation. Christian is right, it is none of my business. Forgive my intrusion; I guess I'm trying to deflect from my own failings," she confesses.

"Please Dr. Grace, you don't have anything to be guilty about; you didn't know," I say giving Christian a scolding glance.

"Sorry Ana, good old fashion Catholic guilt isn't easily dissolved," she says cynically.

Maintaining my gaze, Christian runs both hands through his sexy messy hair. "I'm going to help myself to some of dad's scotch," he says, tapping his mother on her arm.

When he disappears to across the room, I move in closer to Dr. Grace. I speak in a hushed tone; I don't want Christian to hear me. "Dr. Grace, I'm goinna go upstairs so you can have some private time with Christian."

She pushes my hair over my shoulder. "That's not necessary, Christian and I don't need privacy."

I change tactic. "You know, I'm a little tired and would like to relax before dinner." Anxious, I peek over her shoulder to keep my eyes on Christian. I want to escape before he returns.

"Ana," Dr. Grace calls.

"Uh uh," I grunt then I remember my manners. "Dr. Grace, I'm so sorry that was so rude," I stammer.

She's smiles. "You and Christian are acting strangely. I don't understand why you're so uncomfortable with each other. The two of you just need to get over yourselves and embrace the people you are today, stop living in the past. We're fortunate enough to have found each other again, so we should celebrate our little family. Because, Sweetie you are part of this family." She grabs my hand. "And Ana, if anything happens to you again; big or small, please do not it keep from me. From us. Because family help each other." Squeezing my hand she shakes it.

I sigh. "Good advice." The words rush out of my mouth, the clock is ticking. "Let Christian know I'll see him at dinner."

"I will," she says and quietly I scamper out the room.

* * *

The stairs insight, I let out the breath I'd been holding; then I feel a hand on my arm…his hand. "Wait," Christian says bringing me to a crawl. "I want to talk to you," he demands.

Halting completely, I twist so we're face to face, and threateningly I stare at him. "Too bad. The time for talking to me has passed," I snarl, "say." Mockingly, I tilt my head to one side just as quickly bringing it forward it again. "Like two months ago," I sneer, jerking my arm from his grasp.

I think I see a flicker of remorse in his eyes; then he opens his mouth, and I work out that it was my hopefulness being reflected back at me. "Why did you have to bring the topic up with my mother?" He's stern, but his voice doesn't rise to the level of yelling. I surmise, it's because we remain in shouting distance of Dr. Grace.

"Go, ahead Christian you can say it. Miscarriage." Acerbically, the word rolls off my tongue. "I'd discussed my miscarriage with your mother. Accidentally, it came up in conversation and she wanted to talk about it. So, if you want to censor the topics your mother can discuss, you're talking to the wrong person," I say snidely.

His lips are in a firm line. "Oh, no I'm talking to the right person," he jeers.

Derisively, I laugh. "And where would you like the conversation to take place Christian; let me guess the boathouse," I taunt, "so, you can throw me down on the dirty floor and fuck me senseless. Or maybe up against the door frame like last time, letting your deft fingers do the work for you; picking up where they'd left off." Sneering, I lean in closer. So, close in fact that I can smell his fury and taste his bitterness; it's heightening the sexual tension radiating between us. "If you want to fuck somebody." I cup his manhood, "go fuck yourself." My lips quirk up in a wicked grin and I give him a squeeze. Through his pants, I can feel him hardening beneath my hand. He swallows and intentionally, I bite down on my bottom lip. Removing my hand, I leave him slack-jawed, as I triumphantly saunter to the stairs.

* * *

Mia and Christian are huddled in the corner when I enter the dining room and the moment he faces forward locking eyes with me, I lose some of my bravado from before. "Mia, where are you sitting?" I sound unaffected by his presence, but I'd bribed my voice not to break.

Mia steps away from her brother and walking in the vicinity of the table she points. "Right there," she says and then pivoting she goes in the opposite direction leaving Christian and me alone in the rather spacious dining room. But with just the two of us in it, it's claustrophobic.

Taking deliberate steps, I make my way to where Mia had pointed. Straightway, I rest my hands on the empty chair to balance myself, all of a sudden his presence is making me weak in the knees. I feel faint.

I'm so out of it, I didn't realize Christian had made his way next to me. "Let me," he says and his pinky lightly grazes mine when he takes possession of the chair. I know what he's doing, paying me back for earlier. He can smell my weakness, vultures know when you're vulnerable. After all, it's why they gather in anticipation of death.

Pushing my chair in, he positions himself behind me. Hovering, Christian tilts his head down and whispers in my ear. "You know, you're going to pay for your little stunt." His voice is low and husky; arousing me. My skin warms and down there comes alive. For the first time since Luke, I'm reminded, how long it has been since a man had touched me there.

Coquettishly, I peek over my shoulder, throwing him a passing glance. "I don't know what you're talking about," I say coyly, feigning innocence. Flirting can't hurt, I tell myself, but I know better still I'm impotent to stop it.

Unexpectedly, he sweeps my hair to one side and touches the spot behind my ear. "Stop blushing Anastasia. I'm just getting starting. Did you feel what you do to me," he whispers, and Mia re-enters the dining room just as he's about to stick his tongue in my ear. Closing my eyes, I don't know if I want to breathe a sigh of relief or grunt in disappointment.

Christian successfully plays off our sexually charged banter his sister had interrupted, by pulling her chair out for her. "Thank you, Christian," Mia says waving her brother off. Shaking his head at her, Christian walks to his seat on the other side of the table. "Sorry about that, I had to talk to Lily about something." Christian, needn't worry, Mia is preoccupied with her own thing.

Just as Mia's about to ask me a question, Dr. Grace and Mr. Grey enters the dining room. A genuinely surprise, Dr. Grace does a double take when she sees me. "Ana dear," she shrieks, "you came downstairs; I thought you were going to sleep through dinner."

I give her a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I didn't come down sooner. I wasn't sleeping the entire time; I'd hardly slept all. I got sidetracked by my emails and texts," I say, instead of admitting the truth…I wanted to keep my distance from Christian. My skin is on fire, so I know his eyes are boring into me. Therefore, I let mine dart around the room to avoid making direct contact with his.

Mr. Grey and I say our greetings, it's our first time we see each other, then he takes his seat at the end of the table; meanwhile, Christian is up helping his mother with her chair at the other end.

"So, Anastasia I understand that you're going to be with us for the weekend." Mr. Grey booms.

"Yes, that's the plan," I say.

Giddily, Mia claps her hands, as if this is new information to her. "It's going to be so fun having another girl in the house," Mia squeals.

Christian covers his ears. "Fuck, Mia!"

"Christian," Dr. Grace admonishes. "Watch your mouth at the dinner table," she says.

"Sorry mother," Christian says, giving her an apologetic smile then he returns his attention back on his sister. "Mia, Anastasia isn't here as a playmate for you, mom invited her to discuss business," Christian says, unnecessarily chiding his sister. What a Grump.

"Christian, you make it sound as if Ana is here for a work convention. She and Mia will have plenty of time to hang out. In fact, I've planned a girl's day for us tomorrow. Today, Ana and I pretty much covered everything we needed so I have time for my favorite two girls. We'll start out at Esclava then do some shopping, ending with dinner," Dr. Grace says. Under my lashes, I sneak a peek at Christian, and he's peeved about something and for a change, I don't think it's about me.

"Mom, will Mrs. Lincoln-"

Mr. Grey clears his throat, interrupting Mia. "Okay everyone, quiet please it's time for grace," he says commanding our attention. I bow my head, as I try to remember where I'd heard the name, Lincoln.

Dinner was excellent, the star of the show was the dessert. The banana cream pie was a heavenly confection, a perfect ending to a fabulous meal. However, right about now it's legacy is in question. I'm so full, I can hardly breathe. Holding in my stomach, I wedge my finger inside the waistband of my jeans, trying to create a tad more space. I'm regretting not changing, into my more comfortable lounge pants. Even Christian is dressed more comfortably.

Squirming, I try to hide my discomfort, by searching for a more comfortable position on the sofa. Mia has disappeared, yet again, leaving me with Christian and her parents. Who are having a discussion across the room, giving me a moment of privacy? Reveling in the unexpected solitude; I close my eyes and tilt my head back on the sofa.

Sadly, the privacy is short lived. I feel him, he's invaded my space. "Tired?" Christian says. His voice and scent are intoxicating, his whole presence is alluring; he knows he's affecting me and it's time I'd stop playing along.

Slowly, I peel my eyes open, and his handsome face starts to come into view. Bringing my head forward, I sit up straighter. "No, just thinking."

He smirks. "About me I hope," cockily, he says.

I smile wryly. "If you're a dog." I say dryly and watch as the smugness on his face slips momentarily, but it returns just as quickly. My inner cockiness had resurfaced just in time. Internally, I give myself a congratulatory hi-five. "Because I was just thinking about one." He can't help himself; he chuckles. "The kind I was getting myself, for a graduation present?" I clarify, but before he has a chance to respond his mother joins us.

Passing up on Christian's extended hand, I come to my feet. He scowls at me. Dr. Grace is oblivious to our tempestuous shenanigans; she's too busy playing the gracious host. And just as she's about to pose a question about breakfast, Mia storms in with something clearly on her mind.

Mom, dad Lily just invited Ana and me to a party," she says, "do you mind if we go?" Manipulatively, she flutters her long lashes at her parents.

Dr. Grace glances at Mr. Grey and he nods his head. "Okay, I don't see why not," she says, and Mia flings herself at her mother.

"Oh, thank you mom," she says gleefully, and then she skips over to her father and hugs him. Watching her, a hint of jealousy swarms over me; it must have been nice growing up with two loving parents. I'm not sure Mia gets how truly bless she is; not for the monetary gifts the Greys have given her, but for their gifts of love and security.

Mr. Grey's hearty chuckle pulls me out of my head. "You're welcome Mia. Just remember your curfew," he warns.

"Sure dad." Her reply is quick and I know what that means; she's going to ignore it. "Come on." She grabs my hand. "I have the perfect thing for you to wear," Mia whispers.

"Mia, Anastasia is tired. It's been a long day. Perhaps you two should stay in tonight," Christian says matter of factly.

I whip my head around, and my eyes shoot daggers at him. Who made him my daddy, maybe if he shown an ounce of this concern towards his unborn child he'd still be inside my belly? Counting to 10, I stop myself from going down a dead end- playing the blame game. "Thank you for your concern, but I'll be fine," I say. My tone is sugary sweet, to cover up my malice.

His eyes don't leave mine, as he proceeds to talk past me. "Mia, will your boyfriend of the moment be there?" he asks. Befuddled, I narrow my eyes at him, trying to figure out what he's up to.

Huffing, Mia puts her hands on her hip sticking it out to one side, she is beyond irritated with her brother. Christian's not so subtle knock on his sister was uncalled for. "Yes, Christian," Mia snaps.

"Then, won't Anastasia be a third wheel?" Christians retorts.

Perturbed, I blink; however, before I can hurl insults at him, Mia responds.

"It's a party Christian," she says deadpan, "there will be other people." Agitated, she points out the obvious. "Especially guys and maybe Ana will meet one," Mia sasses, deliberately goading her brother.

Mia then angles her head at me. Looking away from Christian I make eye contact with her. What?" I prod. I can see her brains percolating.

"Wait a minute, are you still hooked up with that guy?

Her question catches me off guard, and I'm frozen, like a deer in headlights. Now I understand the adage and feel sorry for the deer. I can't imagine the fear, being helpless with a car barreling down on you at some ungodly speed.

"Christian," Dr. Grace calls breaking up our conversation and I'm relieved; she'd saved me from having to answer the tricky question. I wasn't ready to give Christian the satisfaction of knowing I was single, since I'm sure Ms. Victoria Secret is waiting for him at his cushy apartment.

Contemptuously, Christian looks at me. " Wait a second mom. Go ahead, answer the question, Anastasia. I'd love to hear the response," he says smugly.

Dr. Grace swats his hand. "I don't know what you guys were talking about, but for God sake Christian leave the girl alone and while you're at it stop being so protective of her. Let Ana hang out with Mia. Considering, everything she'd been through, Ana could use a night of fun," she says. Christian is not pleased and neither am I for that matter, but for different reasons. I'm tired of being talked about as if I'm not present. But like Christian, I stay silent, neither of us daring to go up against his mother.

Lightly, yanking on my hand, Mia gets my attention. "Let's get out of here before my stupid brother says something else stupid," she whispers.

A low chuckle escapes me. "I hear ya," I say, and we start heading to the door, sneaking out in plain sight.

"Mia," both parents say at the same time foiling our great escape. Our backs to them and clutching hands, we stand stock still. "Mia Grace, we want you back in this house by 1:00 am. Not in your car. Not on the road; in the house," Mr. Grey says with specificity.

Peaking at me, through her lashes Mia gives me a knowing smirk. "Yes, sir," Mia says and we start moving again. Then untangling her hand from mine, Mia drapes her arm over my shoulders. So what have you been through?" She mumbles.

* * *

Jolted awake, by a hand touching me, I bolt upright. Breathless, and flailing I swat at my assailant fighting him off of me. I will not let him hurt me again; this time around, I'm old enough to protect myself. "Get away from me," I yelp. "Don't touch me." Panting, I swing my arms as hard as I can, but like in a bad dream, it feels like they're hardly moving.

I hear my name, but it isn't until he turns on the bedside lamp, do I recognize who's using it.

"Christian!" My heart is racing, "what the hell!" Scared, groggy, and confused, sleepily I look at him.

He's alarmed. "Anastasia, I'm sorry I wasn't thinking," he says.

I smooth my wild hair. "You, think." I bite.

"I just wanted to talk."

I touch the back of my hand to my mouth. "Christian..." I hesitate. "It's late, and I'm…" My words get stuck. "Never mind, just leave," I whimper.

From his seated position on the edge of the bed, Christian hustles closer to me. "You're trembling." Leaning in he tries to touch my face.

Grimacing, I flinch. "Don't." I close my eyes praying the memories will fade fast. "I don't want to be touched right now. Please, just go." I mewl.

He sits back. "No. I'm not going anywhere, leaving you like this," he murmurs, "not when I'm the cause."

I swipe under my nose with the back of my fingers. "Please, leave. I need to be alone," I whimper.

Wounded, Christian stares at me. Then the bed dips, as reluctantly he comes to his feet. Running his hands through his hair, he turns away from me taking measured steps to the door. As soon as, it closes behind him, I throw the covers back and vault from the bed. My feet hit the floor with a dull thud, but, fortunately, it's not loud enough to wake the household. Racing to the door, I lock it and right away flip the switch next to it illuminating the room. It is now a washed in bright lights; every nook and cranny brigtened. There's no place for a bad man to hide. Resting my back against the door, I scrutinize the space. When I'd first entered, I thought the room was large; now it feels like a tomb.

Pressing my back against the door, I propel myself off of it. Stammering to the bathroom, I splash water on my face. Going to great lengths, I avoid the mirror; I didn't want or need a reminder of what my fear looks like on me.

Crawling up the bed, I rest my back against the headboard and sit upright. Pulling my knees up, I wrap my arms around them drawing them tighter to my chest. My eyes stay fixed on the door, and rocking from side to side; I prepare myself for guarding it the rest of the night.

I was still awake when the dawn beckoned, so got up and dressed for my run. But once I'd made it onto the grounds, I opt for a walk instead. The property is too breathing taking to gobble up; the scenery was designed to be savored. As I walk, I can't see him, but I know he's lurking somewhere near, hiding in the shadows. Ignoring the ache to find him, I walk to the dock and pray he doesn't find me. In as much as, I'd like to set my eyes on him, I'm not in the mood for the inevitable war of words. Dr. Ryan is going to have a field day; this little excursion has provided me with a wealth of material for her to dissect. Christian wasn't supposed to be here, this weekend was meant to be inconsequential; time spent with Mia and Dr. Grace, not an epic showdown between us.

The quiet time at the dock and the crisp morning air helped to put things into perspective. It aided me in making my mind up, so I jog back to the house before I change it back. Breathing hard, I open the door to the kitchen. Good morning Ana," Dr. Grace says startling me.

I remove my hand from my chest. "Good morning," I say, taking the bottled water from her hand.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I saw you through the kitchen window," she says answering my unspoken question. "Enjoyed your run?"

Thirsty, I take a sip of water before answering. "Thank you for the water and yes I did. But the run was mostly a leisurely walk, I wanted to take in the landscape. It's so gorgeous. I only jogged back."

"I have to admit I love being out there too. Unfortunately, with my work schedule I don't get to enjoy it as much as I'd like," she days. "Did you happen to run into Christian?"

"No," I respond, and I resist adding an inappropriate commentary.

"Just wondering, because he called me from the car and said he was heading to Escala to pick up something. Wishful thinking on my part, I thought maybe you had more information." I find it endearing, that Dr. Grace has this naively innocent idea of Christian of me; that our relationship is closer than it really is. As much as; I think she deserves to know the truth, the hopeless romantic in me doesn't want to shatter her vision of us.

I walk to the island, and nervously, I fiddle with the grapes laying on top of the counter. "Sorry, I having nothing to add. This is news to me." I pluck a single grape from the vine. "So, did he say if he was coming back for breakfast?" I'm nonchalant. Unknowingly Christian had played into my plan, making it easier for me to execute it.

Dr. Grace makes her way to the refrigerator. "That, I did manage to get out of him, and he will be back," she says, opening the door.

Perfect, I think to myself. It gives me just enough time, to get out of dodge before he returns. "Dr. Grace, I'm so sorry to do this to you-" She cuts me off.

Her sunny disposition quickly shifts. "I don't like the sound of that, and I'm definitely not a fan of your facial expression," she mutters and with a platter in her hand she lets the door of the fridge slam.

She sets the platter down on the counter and I amble to her; leaning forward I rest my forearms on the counter. "I hate to do it, but I have to get back to Portland. An emergency arose." I'm cryptic, I don't have time to manufacture an elaborate fabrication. I keep my eyes focused on the counter, my dishonesty won't let me meet her gaze. Plus I'm a coward, I don't want to face her disappointment, it may cause me to abort my plan.

Dr. Grace takes out her disappointment on the slab of meat, pounding it relentlessly, as Gretchen focuses on the fresh baked goods.

Dr. Grace, wipes her hand on the cloth she has tucked into her apron. "Sweetheart, I know you are," she says and I stand upright to face her and when I do she pats me on one cheek. "Does this have anything to do with Christian?"

Her question stuns me; so much so, I'm doubtful I'm hiding my shock. "No," I say emphatically, lying to her. But there's no way to be candid without disclosing everything.

"Sorry, I thought I'd picked up on some tension between you two."

I giggle; in order, to downplay her astute observation. "It's nothing new, same old story. He treats me like a child and I get mad and act like one," I say teasingly, trying to thwart the line of questioning. My humor isn't baseless, but it's not exactly factual.

She smiles warmly. "I can't fault him for that when I'm guilty of it too. You are a beautiful young woman, yet there's part of me that will always see you as that little girl. Mainly, because it reminds me that at one time you almost belonged to me." She cups the side of my face. "Oh, darling girl, I'll never forgive myself for not fighting harder for you." She sighs. "Do you forgive me?"

Knocking her hand away, I wrap my arms around her neck. "Yes, I forgive you so please forgive yourself. In the end, it all worked out. I'm fine," I murmur and I rest my head on her shoulder.

We separate and start wiping at our eyes. "You're an amazing young woman. After everything you'd been through, to then turn around and lose your baby is so unfair. Yet here you stand at peace. I wish I could say the same thing for my son. Be patient with him, Ana. To the outside world, Christian is the epitome of perfection, but inside he's a damaged little boy. Unlike you, he'd never made peace with this past." I'm humble and shocked that she's being so open with me about Christian. As, his mother I guess she didn't have to sign an NDA.

Smiling, I roll my eyes. "I'll do my best."

She laughs. "Yes, he can test one's resolve."

"Tell you what. I have Spring break coming up soon with no real plans. So why don't I come spend a few days with you, then we can do all things you had planned for today."

She squeezes my hand. "I'll keep you to that," she says. "What about Christian? He'll be disappointed to find you gone."

"I'll call him from the road," I say. Extracting my hand, I give her a heartfelt hug and rushing out of the kitchen I race upstairs to shower, dress, and pack so I can get out of here before Christian makes it back.

* * *

Bending over, I stretch my arms as far as they will go. I adjust things, so they will all fit inside my Beetle. My bags have grown exponentially. Mia insisted on giving me her so-called castoffs, which means I'm loaded down with designer gear; all with tags.

He presses against my backside; he's not aroused, just firm enough to remind me that he's well endowed. His scent wafts into the car filling it making me drunk. "Need some help?" Christian says huskily.

I find my equilibrium, and slowly I start to extricate myself from the back of the Beetle. He takes a step back, giving me the room to stand upright. "No, thank you, I got it," I say my eyes focused anywhere but on him.

"Why can't you look at me, Anastasia?"

Taking a deep breath, I meet his gaze. "There, I'm looking at you now Christian. So what?"

He's impassive. "Why are you running?"

"I'm not running, I going home," I snap and slam the back door of the Beetle shut.

"You know what I mean. Every time I try to have a conversation with you somehow you manage to wiggle out of it."

"You can't be serious. Blaming me for last night is ridiculous; you're the one that barged into my bedroom in the middle of the night like a crazy man. I was scared. How you could've expected me to hold you in a conversation at that time of night and after a night out in the first place," I seethe.

"It was an insensitive move on my part and I've apologized to you for it. But gimme a fucking break Anastasia, that wasn't the first time I'd tried to have a conversation with you. What about all the other fucking times in the last 24 hours I'd reached out to you," he barks.

My eyes widen. "You know what Christian? Come to think of it, I'm beginning to conclude that the reason you came to my room had nothing to do with talking. You wanted to get into my pants," I say.

He Chuckles. "Sorry to disappoint you, Anastasia, I prefer my women sentient or at least alert."

"Don't give me that self-satisfied grin, like this is my active imagination at work…my wildest dream. Let's look at the facts, I came because I thought you were not going to be here and you came because I was. Relentlessly, you'd flirted with me, pretty much outlining what you wanted to do to me. So now tell me whose delusional," I say cockily.

He presses his steeple fingers to his lips and then quickly removes them. "You're deflecting," he says.

I sigh sardonically. "You're the Boy Prince of the business world; can't you take a hint? I've been trying to be nice."

"That's your Achilles' heel. Nice. I'd never liked the word. Why don't you try, naughty for a change and give it to me straight."

"What? I wasn't naughtier enough for you yesterday. The cold shower you took, tells me I was." I needle. "So, tell me Christian did you take a cold shower the last time too. Or did you jerk off? Or maybe you found another hole for your favorite body part since you're not too selective these days." I smirk.

He looks directly into my eyes. "Why don't you tell me, Anastasia, this is your erotic fiction?"

I put my hands on my head in exasperation, pulling my hair back from my face. Keeping my hands in place, mockingly I laugh. "You want to talk." I remove my hands, and my hair falls covering my face and I have to smooth it back. "Let's talk. Let's talk about the time when you did NOT reach out to me," I screech, "Like when I'd lost our baby. Yes, he was our baby. Despite what you'd like to think it was not Immaculate Conception. I had a willing participant. You," I say angrily sticking my pointer finger at him.

He runs his hand through his hair exasperation. In the short time, he has gone through a myriad of emotions; ranging from remorse, and finally settling on resignation. "Look, Ana," he murmurs, as he leans forward to move some wayward hair, to behind my ear. In the process, he grazes the side of my cheek. I don't know if it was intentional or unintentional, either way I flinch. Tilting my head to the side, I show my disapproval.

I swat his hand away. "Stop!" I shriek. "I will not let you do this Christian. Drag me into your dangerous game of cat and mouse, especially when you're the cat, and I'm the mouse. You'd taunt me with the slightest of possibilities, then haunt me when you pick up your crumbs and go home. Well, I'm not that girl anymore; therapy is helping me to heal and I'd been making great progress. Then one day around you, and I become everything I'm running from. But you know what, because I am different, instead of succumbing to your will, I'd found mine. And I don't want to talk you because there's nothing you have to say that I want to hear. Do you know why?"

He grins sardonically. "That must be a rhetorical question because I get the sinking feeling, I don't have a damn choice," he say bitterly. "Amusing, for someone who doesn't want to talk you sure as hell have a lot to say," he grumbles.

"I heard that," I snarl.

He clenches his jaw. "Why wouldn't you, you're standing right in front of me," he snipes.

I roll my eyes at him, and he glowers at me. "Sorry, you're in no position to dictate anything to me; you'd lost that right when our baby died," I say. "Ever since the miscarriage I'd dream of this moment when I'd be face to face with you. Not in the I'm happy to see you kind of way, but in the vindictive I want to make you suffer kind of way. From physical torture to mental anguish. I'd fantasized plunging my hand down your throat, bypassing the dark empty space where a heart used to reside. Yes. Now, I finally believe you…you don't have a heart." He bristles, at the blisteringly honest comment. This one hurts, his impassivity can't hide his distress from me. And I think back to Dr. Grace's request- to be patient with him, but it's too late he'd tried mine.

He snorts. "You're smart. I knew you would figure it out sooner or later. It just took you a little later than I'd predicted," he says condescendingly.

I lower the timbre of my voice. "Tell me Christian, where's your hideous beating heart." Paraphrasing, I transition to my normal speaking voice. "By the way, I wasn't seeking your endorsement," I sneer.

Contemptuously, he snickers. "How fitting a quote." He smirks. "You have the floor Anastasia, by all means, please proceed to tell me all the ways you want to torture me, I might be able to provide you with some pointers," he says derisively.

I ignore his self-deprivation, he's not deterring me. "I'd snatch your intestine out of your body, pretending it was your soul, twisting it then shoving it up your ass. Then I'd watch you beg me for mercy as you mutter a useless apology littered with superficial words of repentance. And as I think about accepting, I'd watch you grovel at my feet in your Kenneth Cole suit pleading with me for forgiveness. And because you were in a vulnerable state I'd kick you in your permanently smug face." My words are dark and sinister; the cold delivery befitting my mood.

He's expressionless. "I don't wear Kenneth Cole." Is his only response and, of course, his lips quirk up into that annoying smug smirk that I'm starting to detest. Naturally, he picks up on my one flub. I'm not enslaved to labels, so I was stuck and threw out the first name that came to mind. Shoot me

I snigger. "Careful Christian, I'll slap the smirk off your face if you keep it up," I say, delivering a threat similar to the one he'd issued me during our first heated argument."

"What's stopping you?" Nonchalantly, he shrugs his shoulders. "I'm standing right here," he says deadpan.

I snort. "It's too easy Christian and as it turns out revenge isn't what I needed after all. I'd realized it when cowardly, you didn't come clean to your mother, and admit to her, that you were the father of my baby; thus making her the grandmother. Instead, you were content to let her bestow that honor on another man. It was revealing, watching you sit idly by knowingly letting her cry for a baby that she thought of as a stranger instead of giving her the opportunity to properly mourn her dead grandchild. Your eyes were cold and emotionless; it was unmistakable that you didn't care one iota. It is then that I realized it wasn't your words of comfort I needed then or now; after all, you had none of consequence to offer to me. I simply needed you to show up." I pause. "Having you there was what mattered the most to me. I needed you to hold my hand, wipe the tears from my eyes, or just to hold me. I needed you to see my pain even if you couldn't feel yours. I needed you to be present for the death of our child." Sniveling, I pace in place. "Yes OUR baby. "I'd celebrated his life alone, but I shouldn't have been asked to mourn his death alone. He deserved better…he deserved both parents." The tears are now flowing freely.

"Anastasia," Christian murmurs, as he lunges for me.

I step back. "No!" I cry out. "I don't need your sympathy; where was when I our baby died?" I bark. "And as for your mother, I'm just as guilty. I could've spoken up, but I did what I always do…put you first. Funny, some things may change, but others remain a foregone conclusion," I whisper.

"I'm sorry, Anastasia I don't see what good could've come from my mother knowing the truth. What more do you want, she's already beside herself. What difference does it make what baby she's grieving; in the end, there's no baby."

Shaking my head, I wipe my nose with the back of my hand. "One would expect you to say that, because even when his heart was beating inside of me, to you he didn't exist. He never did." I swallow and spinning around I jerk the driver's side door open. Ducking my head, inside I kneel on one knee, anxiously rifling through my purse angrily tossing the contents from the seat to the floorboard. When I'd finally found what I was searching for, panting I back out of the car. Facing forward, I thrust the sonogram picture in front of him. "Look!" He winces. I hold it in place. "See. This is the life you'd been denying."

His gaze never lands on the image, he simply swats it away. "Anastasia. Enough!"

I'm more determined than ever, to make him face his truth. "No. You wanted to talk. Then, look at the life we'd created and then tell me it doesn't matter!" I snivel.

She won't stop, Anastasia keeps coming at me with the damn picture. How can she expect me to see what I can't? Unthinking, I snatch it out of her hand and rip it in half. When I see her face, and hear her anguish, only then do I realize what I'd done, but it was too late. I let the pieces slip from my hands to the ground. "Why couldn't you just leave it alone," I shout. And it is then that I see her knees buckle and I want to spring for her but I know she'll push me away.

Like a punch to the gut, I watch in horror as he tears in half, the one remaining photo I have of my baby, without so much of a glance. Sobbing, I drop down to the ground on my knees and start rooting around for the segments. Locating them, hurriedly I pick up the two most precious pieces of paper in humanity. What he's done is reprehensible. "You bastard," I bark.

Anastasia is distraught; I think quickly on how I can make it up to her. Aside from literally giving her my head on a titanium platter, I'm doubtful that there is any way I can. If I'm anything it's resourceful, so squatting, I grab the bag I'd hidden behind me. It isn't how I'd planned to give it to her, but maybe it will buy me some favor. Rushing, I take the gift out of it. "I think this belongs to you, "I say sliding the box across the pavement to her before she has time to come to her feet.

As, I'm about to stand up, Christian says something, but I've tuned him out so it's not registering. Then out the corner of my eyes, I see a familiar object gliding towards me. I don't want to accept it because it's from him, but I can't look away from the tattered box holding the fragments of my similarly tattered dreams. Stuffing, the two pieces of paper down my shirt I pull the box closer.

Picking it up, I sit back on my heels. "You kept it."

"Yes."

Staring at the box, I process the emotions cycling through my head. Then standing on my knees, I maneuver so I can sit. There are times, I see glimpses of a heart, but like a mirage it disappears just as quickly as it appears. He'd just proven Dr. Ryan right, I needed to see him for who he is today, not the collection of artifacts hidden way inside this box. It's such a narrow, perspective. This is it, he'd launched the final blow making it easier for me to reach my conclusion. He'd met my reasonably low threshold, and surpassed it, doing the indefensible. As predicted, my two held beliefs have intersected and I'm left to face up to my truth.

I run my fingers over the surface, feeling the letters remembering why I'd happily labored to put them there in the first place. But now they feel out of sync with the present. "Raising the ordinary to the extraordinary," had served me well, but it's now it's time to "Live, love, and laugh." The mantra fits in more with who I am today; not the wide eyed little girl who saw the Prince Charming from her storybooks come to life. Examining, the box for one last time, I don't bother with opening it, I simply push it across the cement back to him. "You keep it," I murmur, and then pressing my palm on the pavement, I help myself to my feet. Hanging on to the box, Christian follows standing upright.

He looks perplexed. "I thought it meant something to you, a lot actually," he says.

Sticking my hand down inside my tee shirt, I pull the remnants of the sonogram from my chest. "I guess we both got broadsided today." Clutching the pieces, I stare at him. "You know what they say, there comes a time to put away childish things. Well, my time has come. You are who you said you are, and I'm just learning who I am. And I'd suspect when the dust clears, neither one of us will like the other." I sigh. "Goodbye Christian," I say flatly and I swing around to take the few steps to my car.

"Why do I think you're saying goodbye forever?" I say and she pauses.

She pivots forward and I watch as a sardonic smirk comes across her face. "Why would you think that Christian? Forever would indicate that there was a More. And since we were a flash in a pan that certainly doesn't apply to us. Christian, I've accepted that we'd had a moment in time that nearly bonded us for a lifetime, but that too has passed. So, this is simply a goodbye," she says sternly leaving me with nothing else to say. Powerless, I watch as she steps back and puts her hands on the handle of her beaten up car.

"_Tear up the planks. Here, here; it is the beating of his hideous heart_." Desperate, loudly I recite the quote, answering her earlier question. She pauses. "Edgar Allen Poe, _The Tell-Tale Heart_," I say. "So my heart is buried under the planks." She never turns around, pausing only for a sliver. Opening the door, Anastasia climbs into the death trap. I'm out of my depth, if she were my submissive, I'd know what to do.

I'm scared, it was too easy; I don't have this kind of luck. Two relationships going out like a lamb, instead of like the Lion I'd anticipated. The path is lined with trees, so I'm on the lookout for one falling on my car. Or maybe, it will happen the old fashion way and God will send a bolt of lightning to strike me down. Despite my weariness, I am relieved to begin the dismantling of my emotional dependence on Christian. He's not worthy of my love because he's not capable or willing to love me in return. Less more loving me completely. In my rearview mirror, I watch until the image of him fades into the scenery.

Reaching, I turn up the car radio then I start screaming to the tip of my voice. "You show up because he isn't there, he shows up because you are…Isn't it ironic. Finally, he wants to talk and you don't...Isn't it ironic," I sing changing up the lyrics to the popular Alanis Morissette song, but on the next verse I stay with the lyrics as written.

"_Well, life has a funny way of sneaking up on you…And life has a funny, funny way of helping you out... Ironic_," I sing. Smiling, I happen to glance over at the passenger seat. The ripped sonogram pieces had slid out of my bag and are laying bare on it.

Sadness fills the car, and my mood immediately shifts. Keeping my eyes on the road, I remove one hand from the steering wheel to wipe the tears slowly trickling down my face. "Isn't Ironic," I sing in a strangled voice.


	36. Chapter 36 : Stand

Chapter 36: "Stand"

**Disclaimer:** FSOG belongs to EL James

**A/N**: Thank you for reading, reviewing and following. Please enjoy

**CPOV**

In a mad rush to get away from me, Anastasia floors her car and the tires spin out slightly on some loose gravel on the pavement. Human nature being what it is, a spontaneous signal is sent and my reflexes make me lurch in response. I want to run after her and make sure she isn't injured, but I stop myself. Instead helplessly, I watch as she motors down the driveway; my concerns ebbs only when the bucket of bolt slows to a more reasonable speed.

Grappling with the badly worn box, I switch it to my left hand freeing up my right to run it through my hair in vexation. I'm so out of my depth with the young Miss Steele. She zigs when I think she's going to zag. Her beguiling innocence is only outdone by her vitriolic scorn; add in her youthful exuberance and Anastasia Steele is a heady mix. So intoxicating, it makes me want to put her over my knees; at the same time it threatens to bring me down on them.

Recalling her anguish, makes me recoil at the memory of what I had done to cause it. I want nothing more than to permanently remove the torment from her face. From her eyes. Then I'd work on erasing the impression from my mind. Inspite of everything we've been through and done to each other, I still feel like her protector, but the question becomes, how do I go about protecting her from the guilty party when it is me. Plunging into deep contemplation, I fight the echo of her engulfing me even in the wide open space.

Clenching, a fist full of my hair, I pull on it yanking it to the point of pain. I needed to feel the sensation to ground myself, it doesn't matter that it's a band-aid; the minor discomfort is the only fix available to me in this moment. "Fuck!" Exasperated, I swear out loud as I release the hold on my hair, bringing my hand forward.

"Christian!" My mother's castigating voice cuts through the haze. Closing my eyes, I squeeze the box tightly, trying to sink my fingers into the worn cardboard attempting to rid myself of the malaise, before facing Grace.

Plastering on an impassive mask, I open my eyes wide and pivoting I make eye contact with my mother. Her expression, however, is anything but unreadable. She's disgusted. "Sorry, mom. But you gotta give me a F..." I catch myself, as my mother glares at me warningly. "A break." Sheepishly, I say recovering from my partial slip of the tongue. "Look, mom, I was out here alone with no expectation of anyone joining me, especially you so I let out some frustration- the only way I know how." I defend my actions, being cautious not to sound too defensive.

It worked, her frown lines soften. "Sweetie relax, just stop swearing so much." Leaning in she gives my arm a gentle rub. "What has you so upset? I came out here because I thought I heard raised voices, but I find only you, which is peculiar because I could have sworn I'd heard two distinctive voices. One a male and one a female." Keenly, she stares at me with probing eyes the way she did when I was a teenager, beseeching me to come clean. Sometimes I think, my parents are in the wrong profession and should switch with each other. A novel idea, except Carrick, lacks compassion. We're alike in that way, so much so, when I'm in a vulnerable state, I let myself believe that there might be a grain of truth in the crack whore's lying words.

"You might have; Anastasia and I were having a spirited discussion," I say, giving my mother a very watered down version of the truth.

"Now, that makes sense," she says. "Since I don't see Ana or her car, I take it you two worked everything out before she left."

Resting my thumb and forefinger above my eyes, I stretch them over my brows. "Mom…" She cuts me off.

"Sorry Christian, but what's in your hand?"

Cool, calm, and collected, my head droops as I casually glance at the box. "This?" Posturing. Blasé, I lift it slightly." Nodding, her head, mom takes it from me. "It belongs to Anastasia," I say nonchalantly, as her eyes flicker quickly perusing the dilapidated container.

"Then why do you have it and not her?" She says, as she carefully opens it.

Snidely, I snort. "Good question."

Mom holds up the contents. "What are these?"

Maddeningly, I run both hands through my hair. This is the last thing I need or want, discussing this shit with my mother. Especially, when I'm still reeling from Anastasia's rejection of the damn box, practically spurning me. It's official, I'm definitely in need of something stronger than hair tugging. A turn in my playroom would do the trick, but instead of punishing my sub; I'm the one in need of the bite of the belt. If I could stomach Elena, I'd answer her prayers.

I replace the image of me tied to a St. Andrew's cross where the tip of a cracking whip lightly grazes my genitals, as it lands on my thighs with that of my sub bent over my bench and me landing blow after blow after blow on her reddening ass. And just as quickly I erase it putting my focus back on my mother. "I'm not sure, but I think they are mementos Anastasia saved from that first Gala she'd attended."

Mom smiles. "From that night? How cute, she was just a little girl," she coos."Mmm, interesting though I don't recognize any of these things; except for the rose maybe. I don't recall the band playing this song at the event; we'd stuck to the classics. Sara McClauglin is more of a popular artist," mom says daintily handling the dried flower, as her eyes scan the computer printout that has yellowed over time. She then sets the items back inside and picks up the unidentified piece of metal. Curiously, she scrunches up her face. "Okay, what's this?"

Taking it from her hand, I inspect the entity as if it's my first time seeing it. "I don't know," I say giving it back to her.

Immediately, she places it with the rest of the mementos. "I understand saving a flower, that's very common for young girls; your sister certainly has her fair share of dried and pressed ones squirreled away upstairs. But I don't get the song, what's the significance?"

Before I can think about it, my mouth opens and the truth unfurls from my tongue. "Anastasia was crying so to calm her, I sang it to her." Peering up at me, my mother's lips start quivering.

Her eyes well up. "You sang to her," she says her voice cracking, "I've never heard you sing." Her whisper is airy and ethereal.

Reaching, I wipe the moisture from her cheeks. "Before that night, I never had," I whisper. Smiling at her, my fingers gingerly sweep the side of her face. "Not in public anyway."

Sighing, my mother closes the box and I watch as her manner changes- she appears conflicted. "It's so clear now. She has a crush on you, doesn't she? It's why you two were having your Spirited Discussion." She's sardonic, but her expression remains solemn.

"No."

"Don't lie to me Christian," she warns. "I should've seen it." Softly, she mumbles. "Of course she would have a crush on you. Every woman and some of the men have a crush on you so why not an impressionable young girl?" Peeking at the box one more time, she hands it to me.

Clutching it, I smirk. "Mom, I think you're over-exaggerating. Not every woman, just 3 out of 5." I joke, in an effort to put the twinkle back in her eyes.

She swats me on the hand. "Christian stop. It's not funny. I should've seen it." I see tears about to fall and this time I step in closer pulling her to me. Since she's wearing flats, her height falls way short of mine and I can easily rest my chin on top of her head.

"You know mom, you are too hard on yourself," I say gently rocking her from side to side.

She removes her arms, pulling out of our embrace. "I know, but that kid has had a tough life; she deserves to have someone look after her. A mother figure. I get why the lines are blurred for her; the connection between you two is complicated. I just have a bevy of emotions surging through me; mainly guilt that I'd missed so much of her past, and now that she's back in my life I'm missing what's right in front of me."

My adrenaline is pulsating through every vein in my body. It's official, I need an outlet. "You know what mom, I'm going to pass on breakfast and head back to Escala," I say taking a step back.

"Not so fast, Christian. What's going on? First Anastasia leaves unexpectantly and now you're trying to weasel your way out. There's more to this story than you're telling me. You two had more than a spirited discussion." She puts air quotes around spirited discussion." You were arguing?" She says suspiciously. "If not the crush, did it have anything to do with why I found you propped up against her bedroom door asleep, early this morning?

Shoving the box under my arm, I reach in the front pocket of my jeans for my iPhone and right in front of my mother, I text my Sub an emergency message to meet me at Escala immediately.

* * *

**Monday:**

"Anastasia, I'm curious, when referring to your dead fetus." I wince at the term; I hate it when she refers to my baby in that way. But Dr. Ryan insists, it's for my own good. "You weave between the possessive pronouns, using **our** and **my** so interchangeably I can't keep up. So, which is it?"

Derisively, I grunt. "After what he'd pulled; **MY**," I say passionately, demonstratively pointing a finger back at my chest.

Dr. Ryan eyes me speculatively. "Okay then." Her mouth twitches in response to my impassioned plea. "Now that we have that settled, please continue," she says lowering the tone of her voice and I recognize the tactic, she wants me to mirror it.

It works. When I speak again, I match her mild tone. "When he'd ripped the sonogram, it was like he was ripping my heart out. It transpired the way my dream unfolds, in slow motion then at warped speed. I didn't know what was happening until it had happened. The sequence was indicative of our brief relationship; when I'm least expected, Christian pulls the rug out from underneath me. And like a simpleton, I keep going back for more. Well, this time I'm done. I can never forgive him for tearing up that sonogram. I will no longer put myself in a position where I can be hurt by him; there's no way I can love a man who could be so cold and insensitive as to tear up the sonogram of a dead baby...his or not," I whimper.

Dr. Ryan sighs. "Look at me," she implores and slowly I rotate my head forward until my eyes meet hers. "Is that your head talking or your heart?"

Snarkily, I laugh. "Both. To be honest, my heart is filled with so much disdain for him, I doubt it has the capacity to love him," I say.

"That sounds like your head, what is your heart telling you?"

Aggravated, I glower at Dr. Ryan. "I just told you. I'm at a loss. I don't know what else you want from me."

"Anastasia, remember our long discussion on forgiveness. Well, you're being reactive; taking the easy way out. Hate is easy. I want to know what your heart is telling you, not what your head is telling you, you should feel. The heart doesn't lie…" Huffing, I rudely interrupt her.

"I know. The heart wants what it wants blah, blah, blah," I say, mockingly nodding my head after each annoying blah, "well mine is all over the place," I say exasperatingly.

She leans back in her chair. "I've had the same housekeeper since I'd been able to afford one," Dr. Ryan says. Dumbfounded, I stare at her; I have no clue where she's going with this. "Stay with me, there's a purpose to the story" She winks. "From day one Cecilia has been singing the same song. Every day, for 10 years I'd heard that song, but never paid much attention to it; gospel wasn't my type of music. Then on Saturday, for some inexplicable reason, I'd listen intently of which I blame you."

I grimace. "Me," I whine.

"Yes, you and your ideal that people should pick a song, so they can create a soundtrack for their life," she says.

'Hee hee," I giggle, "okay, I'm guilty; I'm glad to see you've finally come over to my side." I laugh.

Wistfully, she smiles. "This is the youthful, carefree, and vibrant Anastasia I want to see, not the forlorn, young woman before me."

"I want that too, but of late true happiness has been fleeting and doesn't seem like it's in the cards for me."

"A great segue." Her eyes flicker with delight. "Well, the song in question, I found out from Cecilia is called, "Stand", by some gospel artist named Donnie McClurkin. Anyway, upon finally hearing the lyrics, straightaway I thought of you and listening to you just now, reminds me of why they resonated with me.

"Are you going to sing?"

Playfully, she scowls. "No, I'm not much of a singer but I will share the lyrics. The pertinent part at least; the song is fairly long so I'll spare you the whole of it."

I sit up straighter. "Alright, I'm all ears."

Removing her glasses, Dr. Ryan begins. "Cause when push comes to shove*You taste what you're made of *You might bend till you break*'Cause it's all you can take* on your knees, you look up*Decide you've had enough*You get mad, you get strong* Wipe your hands, shake it off * Then you stand, then you Stand." Unbeknownst to her, the delivery is in the tradition of a Poetry Slam so Dr. Ryan's rendition of the song ended up being melodic anyway.

"That's nice; gospel isn't my thing either, but maybe I should start listening to it. The song is very inspirational, but I have to admit I'm not sure how it applies to me?"

Standing up Dr. Ryan walks to her desk and sitting down in the chair behind it, she rolls up closer to it. "To my housekeeper, the sentiment of the song is purely religious; to let go and let God. However, for me the message is more secular with overtones of spirituality. Standing is simply a euphemism for being still and quiet enough for your spirit to speak to your heart. So you can then receive your heart's message."

Embarrassed, timidly I hold up my hand. "You just got too metaphysical for me so, at the risk of sounding dense, I'm going to need you to break it down to me in layman's term."

Chuckling, Dr. Ryan throws her head back, "Anastasia, you are so endearing," she says as her head comes forward, "now I understand your charm. You are devilishly smart. Cleverly, you know just when to innocently play unwise," she says sarcastically.

Sheepishly, I shrug my shoulders. "Um, it's not play; I'm really lost," I confess.

"Okay, let's get serious. You young lady need to find that inner- voice that has gotten lost in the noise." She pauses. "Your instinct," she says answering my unasked question.

"What instinct?" Mockingly, I challenge. "The one that got me into this predicament in the first place?"

"Anastasia, you're looking for perfection, you already know in life it does not exist. Still in here you'd have me dissect you're every move, choreographing the steps of your life trying to achieve it. In the meantime, you're forgetting to be present and truly live. It is my professional opinion that from therapy you're hoping to get what life does not offer you- a guarantee. No amount of baseline questions, in-depth probing, or thought provoking at home assignments is going to give you the surety you're seeking. You and Christian Grey could end up having the greatest love affair of all time. Or he could end up being your heart's forever desire and you'll ache for him for a lifetime instead. But you'll never find that out in here. You need to explore this truth on your own," she says averting her gaze from me, focusing on her desktop computer. Then she starts manipulating the mouse as she fixes on the screen. And when she's done, she pushes back her rolling chair and comes to her feet making her way back to her original seat. "I just canceled your next few appointments.

Lurching, anxiously I sit up on the edge of the sofa."What." I gasp. "You're breaking up with me?" I whimper.

She laughs. "Relax Anastasia, I'm not breaking up with you." She chuckles. "However, I did warn you that this wasn't going to be easily resolved. You want instant gratification. But that's not how love works; falling in or falling out. Trying to discern if you love him or not, can't be resolved in 50-minute increments, twice a week."

"Are you going to give me your speech again, I know it well," I say snidely.

"No. I was going to say you needed time. Therapy is a very useful tool when there is something to be fixed; ala your depression after your miscarriage, your unresolved issues with your mother, and the relationship with Luke. But it's not designed to figure out the heart of an 18-year-old girl. You're using it and me as a crutch. Anastasia, let life unfold without turning every slip up into a colossal mistake that requires a discussion. I don't want to create an environment for you where you have to seek counsel before you see your own shadow. You're too young, too smart, and too capable for that," she says. You've come through the thick of it, sweat the small stuff."

"I'm not ready." My lips quiver.

"You're scared, that's different and that confirms for me that I've made the right decision."

I wipe away the one tear that is making its way down my face. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Heal. You need time to heal, time to grow, and time to be present in your own life instead of talking about it," she says. Then reflectively, she leans forward getting closer to me. "I was hired to help you with your emotional distress after your miscarriage and in the process we'd unearthed some of your underlying issues. Well, we got through most of them and you'd even managed to resolve some of the lesser personal ones on your own. Time can be a healer, or it can be the opposite; either way, it's what you need not me."

I tilt my head back and try to make out what's happening. "Grrr," I growl in aggravation.

"Anastasia, can you look at me?" Dr. Ryan says condescendingly. So I take my time bringing my head forward.

"Better?" I snap.

"Yes, thank you. Now let's get back to what brought us to this point, getting in touch with your spirit. To do so, you can try some things as cosmopolitan as yoga and chanting, or as mundane as sitting alone in a quiet place. No noise; that includes no phone, no music, and talking out loud. Simply you and your thoughts."

I let go of my tantrum. "What about running? It's what I do now, to think."

"It's certainly an option, but I'm going to take "Standing", literally – meaning I want you to be still."

I shrug. "Finding a quiet room, shouldn't be a problem."

Dr. Ryan smiles cheekily. "I glad to see that your 12-year-old self-has left the building."

I resist rolling my eyes. "Yeah, sorry about that," I say contritely. Closing, my eyes I let her words sink in. "Time." Whispering, I parrot Dr. Ryan and I slump back on the sofa.

"Anastasia, the nature of therapy is to pick you apart until you're raw then build you back up. Well, I'm done with the picking, let's be about the business of building you up. That's what's I'm give you the freedom to do. Behave like a lovesick college student; eat too much ice cream, commiserate with girlfriends, pluck a four leaf clover…" My giggling stops her and I sit up.

"Four leaf clover. Where are you from little house on the prairie." I chortle.

Apprehensively, she smiles. "Okay, you got me. I'm too far removed from college life, but there's one thing that girls do today that girls did yesterday to get over a boy?"

"I'll bite, what is it.?

"They date… A lot."

I walked right into that trap. "Are you inferring that I should go on a date?

"I'm not inferring, I'm encouraging it," she says.

Audibly, I sigh. "You're the doctor, you know best."

"Anastasia this is your life, I want you to be in control of every aspect of it no matter how minute. So if you're going to make this about me, you'll just derail it."

"I'm not going to sabotage myself to get back at you if that's what you're worried about. I'm not that calculating."

"Good, by the way I didn't think you were; you are one determined young lady and once you get in touch with your spirit, you will be invincible. I've given you all the tools you need. In you I see strength, you just need to harness. Now I just need you to find it so you can nourish it; if I bestow it upon you, you'll let it wither and die." she says. "I like to call it the teaching the man to fish principle." She adds.

I slump back on the sofa and pop right back up. "I don't know what you see because I don't feel strong. I haven't for a long time. Not since one Christian Grey re-entered my life."

"That's why you need to get centered. And I also recommend that you finally have a sit down with him. Put everything out on the table so you know what you're working with. Knowledge is power."

"Surely, you jest. We're like oil and water under pressure; we don't talk, we explode."

"Luckily, when oil and water are at room temperature they are perfectly fine. So have the discussion on your timetable, when you're self-contained and not so emotionally charged."

"Ha ha ha," sardonically I laugh. "Simple, says the woman who has never witnessed one of our epic fights."

"I'm glad to see you haven't lost your sense of humor," she says.

"I wish it were joke," I say

"Well, just trust your gut," she says.

"You better come up with something better than that because my guts have gotten me into loads of trouble – a one night stand, pregnant, and ill-advised relationships." I sigh. "The list is endless."

"You run off your indiscretions like it's a grocery list, and you do the same for his. We've already discussed how you're both flawed. So what; find your truth and flourish. Rejoice in your greatest triumphs, learn from your most devastating defeats, but whatever you do, don't settle for the middle. I'm a Therapist, not a Soothsayer, I can't tell you what you want me to tell you…how things will end, it's a discovery I'm pushing you to make on your own and oh yeah...along the way have some fun doing it."

"So you want me to go on a date?" I confirm as I warm up to the idea.

"Yes, more than one actually. I know dating is a foreign concept for you, seeing that the only 3 men to ever approach you turned into relationships." She puts air quotes around the number 3 and I laugh.

"Why the air quotes?"

"Because I consider Mr. Rodriguez to be an asterisk; at 14, 15 you were way too young and broken to make any rational decisions about being in a serious relationship. I only included him to bolster my point," she says

"By the way I sent him a letter," I blurt out.

Her expression is hard to read, I can't tell if she's stunned or stupefied. "Really?"

I defend my actions, I feel like I'm being judged. "He was the only person on my truth list, I hadn't been able to speak with, since he goes to great lengths to avoid me. Which I find ironic seeing that he's the guilty party. Anyway, I had to resort to a letter. I didn't use electronic means, because I didn't want to leave a digital footprint where the email could be used against him in the rare case our systems were hacked... ala Sony."

Dr. Ryan wiggles her brows. "Okay, understandable. Did it provide you the closure you wanted?"

"Yeah I think so. Mainly, I wanted to let him know I'd forgiven him but our friendship was irrevocably damaged."

"Great. Is your list now completed?"

"Pretty much, some nitpicky stuff is lingering. But, since you said sweat the small stuff; I'm going to let it drop."

"Yes, very good- you were listening. There's no need to manufacture a crisis where there is none." She winks. "I know you're trying to distract me, but I haven't forgotten."

"Oh joy," I say flatly.

"With the amount of time you have left in college, I want you to get the experience of really dating in college. Go out with a boy, with expectations of nothing but fun. Accepting a date from a boy, doesn't have to lead to a lifelong union. You need to get a taste of going out with boys closer to your own age and income level," she says sarcastically, but I'm offended.

"I didn't go after Christian or Luke for their money," I say.

"Settle down, that's not what I was implying if anything I was going for humor. But I was making a point; most women don't get a Luke Sawyer or a Christian Grey in a lifetime, never mind both at such a young age. So, you need a dose of reality."

"Sorry. I'm just edgy. The thought of dating gives me a headache."

"Look at this way, you've got a head start. You mentioned that a young man had asked you out."

I run my hand over my ponytail. "Yeah, but I wasn't seriously thinking about taking him up on it."

"Well get serious and go out with him. In fact, I'd like for you to go on at least 3 dates with 3 different guys before our next visit. You like a goal, so there's one for you."

"What about Christian?"

"What about him, we've been over it and over it. You're more than capable of handling him. You're survivor. Look at all you've survived, so an emotional tug of war with Christian Grey is nothing. You proved it over the weekend; you stood up for yourself. Not how I'd like, but on your own terms. So now, you just need to be still, and be quiet so your spirit can guide you."

I give up on trying to prolong the session. "Going on these dates, what are the rules?"

"Anastasia there are no rules; just go on some dates."

Closing the door to Dr. Ryan's office, I fish around in my bag for my phone. Pulling it out, I scroll through the contacts, finding the number he'd just entered. Closing my eyes, and scrunching up my face, I press the little phone next to his name.

"You called." He answers the phone on the first ring, before I can say anything. Still, he doesn't sound overly anxious, he's cool. Too cool for me probably.

I walk as I talk. "Yes, I did. I'm calling to take you up on your offer."

He chuckles. "You sound like I left you with a buying contract instead of an ask out on a date," he says.

"Sorry, this is new for me."

"I'm not sure what that means, but I can hear the nervousness in your voice so I won't toy with you anymore. What about coffee tomorrow?"

"Yeah, that works."

"Good, I'll text you the time and place."

"Okay, I'll look for your text. By Sean," I say.

"I'll see you tomorrow, I don't say goodby."

I smirk. "I don't know what that means, but I hear the nervousness in your voice so I want ask." He laughs heartily.

"Good one, you got me. See you tomorrow," he says and the end of the call marks the beginning of my dating experience.

* * *

With the letter from Dr. Grace in my hand, I get comfortable on the sofa, pulling my legs up underneath my body.

I handle the beautifully crafted card stock with care, as I loosen the seal on the envelope. Pulling out the elegant stationary, I feel something hard remaining inside the envelope. But I decide to first read the note, before checking it out.

_Sweetheart,_

_I wish I could do more to help alleviate the pain of your loss. I know what you're going through, since I'd suffered multiple miscarriages of my own before my heart found the three loves of my life…my children. I know it doesn't feel like it now, but someday you will be a mother- the options are varied. In the meantime, I wanted to do something special for you. Since you couldn't stay for the day at the spa, I'm bringing the spa to you in Portland. I've included a $1,500 gift card so you can get all the spa treatments you want. I love you and call me if you ever need to talk._

_P.S.: Mia is horrified that, I didn't send the gift card and note electronically._

_Lovingly,_

_Dr. Grace_

* * *

**Friday**

Kate has left for an early dinner with her newest conquest, a much older handsome and wealthy visiting professor, so I'm alone with my mound of books. Propping my bum on the sofa, I get ready to tackle my work assignment before Seans show up for our second date. The first went well and after talking on the phone a few times we'd decided a second was due. Cognizant, of Dr. Ryan's concerns, I'm not getting too invested in Sean, but I enjoy his company. He brings an attitude, I can use right about now. Affectionately, I like to think of him as the darker version of Luke. A real homeboy, with all the swagger to match the attitude, but he's more than his slightly baggy jeans, oversized shirt, and dreads. Sean is super sharp, cultured, and a deep thinker, but in the short time I've known him, I notice that he likes to test society's perception of him. He tries to hide it, but he has a chip on his shoulder, put there by the struggles of a people he's only read about in books or heard about through oral history. We're different, but at the same time we're kindred spirits. Though, I'm going to make a conscious effort to go on a date with someone new next week, for now I'll enjoy Sean's company.

Opening the books, one by one I sprawl them out for easy access. Coding isn't my strongest subject so I checked out some supporting text books to help me. Picking up my pad and the book from class, I stretch my legs out, and get to work. Unfortunately, the coding book isn't corporating with me, it all looks like gibberish to me. So I know I'm in for a long few hours. Glancing at my pad, I try to make sense of the notes, I'd taken in lecture; they too are unreadable. In frustration, I snatch off my glasses and sitting forward I scope out the other books for further assistance.

Rolling my neck from side to side, I try to get some of the kinks out. It's getting stiff, from hunching over my books. After a rough start, I'd finally conquered coding and got so caught up in it, I forgot to stretch. Peeking at my phone, I see that I also lost track of time; however, I'm still in good shape, but I should start getting ready. Since we're only going out for burgers, what I'm wearing will do, I just need to freshen up.

One by one, I slam the books closed and on the coffee table I start stacking them on top of each other. Then startled by a knock on the door, I nearly drop the last one just as I'm about to set it on top of the pile. Standing upright disconcertedly I glare at it; after all, it's too early for Sean. As I think, the knocks become more urgent and I panic when I come to the conclusion that it can only be Sean. Discombobulated, I fly to my bedroom; just because I'm wearing what I have on, doesn't mean I have to look disheveled. Slip sliding into the room, balancing on one foot, I race to the bathroom. Yanking the band down my hair, I run my fingers through it combing it. Then I gargle with some mouthwash and finally I slap my cheeks to bring some color to my face. Hanging with Sean, has made it painfully obvious, how pale I really am. One last fluffing of my hair and I'm ready. Rushing, I make it back to the living room in a matter of seconds, but the banging outside door is gone.

My touch up, took only a few seconds, but it must have felt longer to Sean so disappointed I theorize that he must have left; then the loud knock is back. Walking fast, I pull up short at the door to compose myself. I didn't want to appear too anxious. As the butterflies flap about in my stomach, I smirk thinking about Dr. Ryan. This is the exact feeling she wanted me to experience, well she'll be happy... her wish has come true.

One final time, I run my hand down my front getting out any wrinkles. Then I lick my lips to add moisture and some sheen and putting my hand on the knob, I yank the door back.

"H…" I get stuck on the H when my blue eyes, meet determined gray ones.

Christian's mouth is in a firm line. "Your fucking hair," he barks and looking him squarely in the eyes, I let the door slide from my hand slamming shut in his face. I'd like to say it was an accident, but I'd never been surer of anything; it was intentional. I do not want to see Christian. I don't want to talk to him. The reasons he's here matters not and Dr. Ryan's words are falling flat too. None of it matters, in the end it's about me. Things will only end one way; me a weeping mess and him walking away unscathed. I know full well, that I'm supposed to be proactive and not reactive; but how can I be when he keeps sneaking up on me.

Resting my back against the door, I absorb the pounding Christian is putting on it. He's relentless, the shear force of his fist hammering it is making my body vibrate against the stricture. "Christian stop!"

"I'll stop when you open the fucking door," Christians screams. His booming voice is so loud and clear, he sounds as though he's standing right in front of me instead of on the other side of the door on the outside.

I rotate my head so my mouth is at the door. "Go away Christian. I don't want to see you, I don't want to talk to you," I yell and facing forward again I bury the back of my head against the door. My palms splayed, I hold myself steady as he unleashes a flurry of rapid fire knocks against the already battered door.

"I'm not going any fucking place until you open the fucking door." Christian roars.

I close my eyes. Opening them, I turn my head to the door again. "Christian Stop! You're going to alert the neighbors."

"I don't give a shit." His breathing is so hard I can hear it through the door. "You know what Anastasia, I'm going to put you across my knee; it'll make you feel better and me," he bellows. I don't know what the heck he's talking about, so I conclude that he's losing his mind.

"Christian you can't say things like that to me. What if someone hears you."

"I don't give a fuck." He pounds. "Open the fucking door!"

Staring into the room, my phone mocks me from the sofa tempting me. An idea pops into my head, as the mad man continues beating up the door with such brute force, I'm afraid it won't stay on it's hinges much longer. Using my foot, I propel myself off of it, and my resolve picks up as I confidently I walk to the sofa to booming and yelling reverberating in the living room.

Reaching the sofa, bending down I pick up the phone and entering in my code I gain access to the dial pad. Intently, I stare at the keys committing every symbol to memory and then unwavering I dial the three little numbers. Now the only thing left to do is sit and wait.

The pounding ceases and I hear a second voice. So I know Portland's finest is here. Running to the door, I put my ears to it and listen to the exchange between Christian and the Policeman. However, the conversation with just the two of them doesn't last long, before I hear a third voice, I recognize as Mr. Taylor's. The discussion is short - Mr. Taylor wisely convinces Christian that it was best for him to leave.

Thank goodness for Mr. Taylor. "Miss. Steele, it's Officer Brown, all is clear you can open the door now."

Resting one hand on the door, I use the other to slowly peel it back. When I see that the officer is indeed alone, I open it wider. "Thank you," I say.

The Policeman looks at me pensively. "Ma'am do you know who was just at your door. Mr. Christian Grey, the businessman. He's a far cry from a raging lunatic," he says.

His dismissive statement raises my ire. " Tell me Officer Brown do you have a daughter?"

Not picking up on the edge in my voice, he smiles. "As, a matter of fact I do," he responds.

"Let's say she reported a man at her door that was scaring her and similarly, you found a Mr. Grey type at her door. Would you feel the same way?" I'm not afraid of Christian. I know physically he won't harm me, I'm protecting my mental state. But right now I'm trying to make a point.

His smile fades fast. "No, Ma'am. Sorry," he says apologetically. "But you should know you're safe. He assured me or should I say his security personnel assured me he wouldn't be back so it's up to you. Do you want to press charges?"

"No, I don't. I just wanted him escorted off my property," I say.

"Okay then, ma'am you take care and let us know if he shows up again."

As the Policeman turns to leave, I see Sean approaching the door. I don't know why, but seeing him makes what just happened feel real and sad. I want to run to him. I needed to be held.

Sean eyes me speculatively. "Is everything alright?" He says softly.

I nod my head. "Yes." My voice quivers.

He pulls out a strand of my hair. "Blonde," he says rubbing the strand between his fingers. "I like it." He smiles and I fling myself at him.

He stammers back from the shock, but he catches me. He's too tall for arms to reach his neck, so they encircle his upper torso. I rest the side of my face against his chest."Thank you," I whimper. His long dreads hanging in his back tickles my arms

Tentatively, he brings his arms around my body enveloping me. "For what?" He whispers.

"For this," I say and I rotate my face to the other cheek. "Just holding me." Resting my face on his chest, the staccato beating of his heart makes me feel still and calm. This isn't what Dr. Ryan had in mind, but it's working for me.


	37. Chapter 37: When A Man Love A Woman

**Chapter 37**: When A Man Loves A Woman

**Disclaimer:** FSOG belongs to EL James

**A/N: ** I want to apologize right now for the errors but to get it perfect I would have to step away for a couples day (I can't look over it more to edit) :( and it wouldn't get out for another week- so try to ignore the errors. This chapter is really long so you'll probably need to sittings- I included 2 chapters to make up for the long wait. I'm traveling for Christmas too but since I'll be visiting my in-laws I'll probably get a chapter out. They aren't as active as my family.

I was going to address the accusation about my racism but honestly this chapter took a lot out of me and I don't have the energy-maybe next time :)

Thank you for reading, following, and reviewing- And above all thank you for your patience- I'm sending this out with trepidation - Enjoy -Please

* * *

**Week Later**

"Thanks for going with me tonight."

"Girl, no problems, besides I should be the one thanking you for the full the day at the spa."

"Well, for that we both should be thanking Dr. Grace for her very generous gift card."

"Since I won't be seeing her anytime soon, I'll just laud all the appreciation on you. But enough about the Greys. Let's talk about your date."

"It's not a date, I'm going to support a friend."

"Anyway," Kate says dismissively, "I'm just looking forward to meeting him in person. He's kind of a celebrity on campus. I can't believe you're hooking up with him."

I roll my eyes to the ceiling. "Let me repeat we're not hooking up."

"Give it time because the boy is fine. What, 6'5- 6'7; can you imagine climbing that?" She cackles. "Even in his baggy clothes, I can tell he has it going on, it's in his walk. When you do let him hit it. You have to let me know if what they say is true."

I shake my head. "Jazz and Amanda called about Hawaii."

"Don't try to change the subject."

"Okay, first of all, your antiquated statement is highly offensive. Secondly, and for your information, I've had the good fortunate to sleep with two very well endowed men so I doubt anybody can beat them in that department, no matter the race. So, see Kate I don't need to search any further, whatever, size or width I get from now on would be fine with me because I've already been blessed. Twice."

She folds her arms. "Do tell," she says sardonically as she cocks her head to the side.

* * *

Wading through his adoring fans, Sean finally makes it to our meeting spot. "Congratulations, you were terrific," I say giving him a big hug. "I'm glad I came, thank you for inviting me."

"I'm glad you came too, I wasn't sure you would."

I release him. "Why wouldn't I?"

He grabs my hand. "Come on let's get out of here, I need some quiet."

I drop his hand. "Let me tell Kate first."

"We won't be going long," he says and grabbing my hand again, Sean leads me through the exit and throngs of people on the outside who were hoping to get in to see him.

"Wow, you're quite the celebrity. How did I miss this all these years?"

"Don't believe the hype, most of these people are here because of my play on the hardwood than for my turn on the mic or behind the turntable."

"You're modest because you had the crowd eating out the palm of your hands. They were singing louder at your rhymes than the rap songs you covered. I was proud of you." I say. "But there's one thing I think we need to change. I know Big Sean is taken, but you can do better than D.J. Sean."

He throws his head back. "Oh snap, I can't believe you're cracking on my name."

"Sorry, but you need something a little catchier."

"Maybe, but I wanted to keep it simple and not too stereotypical."

"Uhm, too late. Sorry to inform you but rap is a stereotypical career for a young black man as is basketball."

When we make it to his BMW, Sean opens my door and sees me inside then he gets in. "I know where we are going with this," he says and I tell he's irritated.

Shifting in my seat, I turn to face him. "I'm sorry Sean, but the way you play the piano is beautiful. That kind of talent shouldn't be locked away in some kind of hate chamber, it needs to be shared with the world."

He looks at me, then he turns his head from me. "The latest Sports Center rankings came out and they predict that I could go in the first round of the NBA draft."

"That's wonderful Sean, why do you sound so morose?"

He stares at the street lamp. "After my dad had received his Houston businessman of the year award, we went to dinner afterward and I shared the news. And you know what my dad did?"

"No."

"He got up, left the table and went home; Sent the car back for me and mom." He tries to hide his feelings by joking about it, but it falls flat.

"I'm sorry Sean, you know I know what it's like to have a parent that disappoints you at every turn, but I think the relationship between you and your father is salvageable."

He snorts. "Really. Well, I have years of therapy receipts to prove you wrong."

"The fact that he's still in your life is reason enough to believe."

"Ana Steele, you're amazing. I can't believe you can be so optimistic considering all that you're dealing with."

"That's why hope is so important."

"Well, the problem between my father and me is deeper than what hope can heal. It's skin deep. I'm the black son of a black man who refuses to see his own race of people as more than a collection of stereotypes perpetuated by the White man. So can your hope bring together that racial divide?"

"Thank you for finally opening up to me." I reach over and touch his leg for to show my empathy. "There's an exercise my Therapist had me do and it's very effective. Maybe you did to and if you did, humor me. It's designed to find your truth. So, tell me what is your heart's desire, being a basketball player or a Concert Pianist."

"You know the answer, a Concert Pianist."

"Then why are you trampling over your truth? Do it."

"And make my father happy, I'm having too much fun being a daily reminder of everything he despises."

"That saddens me to hear. I've gotten to know you and this you with the dreads, baggy clothes, basketball abilities, and rhyming skills is pretty special but the authentic you is even better."

"You're sweet."

"But you're dismissing me."

"Yep, it's time to talk about you and your dating experiment." He laughs.

"You're right to laugh. It was a joke and an epic fail. After going on one more in person date and engaging in several dismal phone calls, I called my Therapist and said no more. You'd set the bar too high."

"Nice try but I'm not buying it. But how did your Therapist take it. From my experience, they don't like being wrong."

I scoff. "Dr. Ryan is different, she's evil." I joke. "Just kidding. But she was fine, the whole thing was a setup anyway. An attempt to force me to meet guys...""

"To get over your ex?"

"Something like that."

"I for one am very happy that she came up with the plan and I beat out the rest of your suitors. How did I manage to rate so high?"

I smile. "I just kinda liked **us**."

"Us," He repeats. "I know there's **me**. There's a **you**, but I didn't know there was an **us**."

"Don't get panicky, I'm not going to cramp your style. I'm not talking about in a relationship kinda way, but more in a kindred spirit kinda way."

"Okay, so tell me, do kindred spirits kiss or is kissing only for relationships."

My lips quirk up. "I think kindred spirits get one free kiss," I say and before the words can leave my mouth Sean has my seat reclined and he's hovering over me.

"If all I get is one and it's free, might as well make it count."

"Might as well," I say coquettishly as my hands weave in his hair pulling his head down to meet mine.

* * *

**2 weeks Later**

"Burr." Shivering, I cross my arms over my chest. "That cold snap came out of nowhere," I lament and Mary shakes her head in agreement as she gets acclimated to the warmth of my apartment.

"Yeah, it certainly wasn't this cold when I left home or I'd put on a thicker jacket. Or a coat maybe."

I close the closet door. "I hear yah," I say taking the jacket perfect for a brisk autumn day, but no match for the bitter chill that has descended on Portland in the last hour. Hanging the jacket on a peg at the door, I gesture for Mary to have a seat on the sofa.

"Sure."

The first part of my hosting duty complete, I walk further into the apartment joining my study partner who's a first time visitor to me and Kate's humble abode; as a result, her eyes are flickering from one corner of the room to the next as she checks the place out. "Mary." I clap.

She shakes her head. "Sorry, I got distracted. Your place is so big."

"Thank you, but it's really Kate's, I'm just the grateful freeloader."

She giggles. "Ana, who knew you were so funny."

"Thank you, but you're too generous with your compliment. Most people don't get my humor." I kick my backpack out of the way. "So, I thought we could just set up here. The coffee table can be used as a writing surface if need be."

"Yeah, that'll work."

"Good. I'm gonna get myself some water. Do you want something to drink- water, coffee, tea or soda?"

"Water is fine."

Keeping up the small talk I head to the kitchen. "So you're leaving for Spring break tomorrow?"

"Yeah, early in the morning."

"Well, you should be out of here in no time, this shouldn't take us that long," I say just as my foot crosses the threshold into the kitchen, but as soon as I clear the door a man's hand covers my mouth so I can't answer Mary back when she responds to me.

Struggling, I try to get away from him, but his grip on me is too tight. I can't move his hands, they are too strong, too muscular. My fingernails simply sink into his skin and the veins covering his hand and because I had the salon cut my nails to the quick, I'm not causing any damage.

I grapple with him trying to scream, to get away…to do something but wrapping me up tighter the intruder drags me across the floor further into the kitchen. Ensnared in his trap, my worry rises, as my heart pounds against my chest, imagining all the things he will do to me. To Mary. I want to break free to offer him any worldly goods he wants if he'd spare our life and not rape us. Suddenly guilt swarms me, Mary is simply a guest in my home and she'll be subjected to a harrowing experience because of it.

Fear and guilt build bringing the inevitable tears and they streak down my cheeks, as my body starts trembling. The man then presses his lips to my ear stilling me. "I'm going to remove my hand, but you better not scream." He orders and the sound of his voice relaxes me, it's disgustingly familiar.

Slowly, he peels his hand back. "Christian." Angrily, I yelp and he slaps it right back down on my mouth.

"Ana, are you okay?" Mary shouts from the living room.

Christian, presses his lips to my ear again, and I can feel his irritation in them. "Answer her and then get rid of her," he seethes. I nod my head, acquiescing.

Then he proceeds to remove his hand from my mouth. "I'm okay, I tripped," I yell. It's the first thing that comes to mind because it's the most plausible seeing that she'd just witnessed me doing just that in the student center in front of a group of very handsome boys.

Mary chortles, "Alright. I thought I heard you say someone's name. Anyway, be careful you don't want to repeat what happened earlier."

He finally lifts the arm that's locking me in place, giving me full mobility. Instantaneously, I whip around shoving him pushing him against the counter and with my fists I pound on his chest. "Have. You. Lost. Your. Mind. You. Scared. Me. Have. To. Death." I hiss, hitting on his chest as I speak. He grabs my arms stopping my assault on him and I glower at him. I'm careful to keep my voice low so Mary won't overhear, but by now my tears have dried up, and I'm enraged. "Christian, you've gone too far this time. Escalating your bad habit."

Releasing my arms, he returns my heated gaze, but Christian doesn't capitulate. Clenching his jaw, he doubles down. "Get rid of her Anastasia or I will." It makes me incensed that he has the temerity to keep up with his malicious shenanigans.

Our stare down continues. Neither of us is showing signs of backing down. However, since I have no reason to believe that he is harmless, for all I know he's gone mad. Considering he'd just broken into my apartment that's highly likely so I'm the first to blink. Livid, I give Christian one last death stare before storming out the kitchen, but I maintain the wherewithal to plaster on a fake smile when I reach the living room. I give Mary some trumped up reason as to why all of a sudden I have to cancel our study date. The excuse sounded like a good one when I played it over and over in my head between the walk from the kitchen to in here, but repeating it to Mary, its suspect. However, if she has any qualms about it, she's certainly polite because she doesn't call me out on it.

Locking the door behind Mary, I hang back to give my strength a chance to build up again before the battle with Christian recommences. Clutching the doorknob, I happen to glance down and I notice that one of my laces have come undone so finding a moment of levity at a time when it's hard to come by. I giggle at the thought of blaming the laces for my fall and not the tripping hazard attached to my body- my two left feet. Smiling, I bend down and buying some time, I retie the laces like I'm 5 years old- I start with bunny ears. The mundane task over, regretfully, I come back to reality and what's waiting for me in the kitchen. My smile fades. "You can come out now," I belt when I come back to my full height.

Dressed like a model on a photoshoot, showcasing clothes for the successful CEO ad campaign, Christian innocently strolls out of the kitchen as if he didn't just break into my home. Essentially taking me hostage. "See, that wasn't so hard." Smug, he gives his shoulders a half shrug.

"I'm serious Christian." I step away from the door. "You have to stop. Your stalking has reached the level of criminality, you can't condone this kind of behavior," I say walking further into my living space.

His lips form into a wry smile. "Nice touch calling the police by the way. It took balls."

"I'd like to think of it as the wise the thing to do. A matter of fact, I should call them now, maybe this time, they'll arrest you." I smirk. "Since a simple warning wasn't a deterrent for you."

He takes a step, but a lot of distance remains between us. "Go ahead." He motions with his head. "Call."

"Don't test me. You know I'll do it and this time I will see to it that they arrested."

He takes another step but maintains a comfortable distance. "Baby, you don't have that kind of power." Cockiness drips off of him.

"So, you're above the law."

"No, Anastasia I'm not. I'm very law abiding, I don't break laws." He cocks his head. "Now, I've been known to straddle the line from time to time."

"What about rules? Because one of the first rules you learn in society is to respect boundaries."

His lips quirk up in that damn cocky smirk I detest. "Rules, are a different story. They are simply met to be guidelines and since I follow my own, I don't have to worry about breaking any."

"You've got an answer for everything."

"Not really, you're still a conundrum to me."

"There isn't much to figure out, I play it straight down the middle. I don't break rules or laws."

"Sure, about that?" He smirks.

I know what he's insinuating, but this isn't about me, it's about him. "Mr. Grey, you must have a very lax understanding of the law because you've far more than straddled, you've out broken a few - Breaking and entering, blackmail is a couple that comes to mind. The complete list of your malfeasances is much longer, those were simply the ones on the tip of my tongue."

Salaciously, he grins and it goes straight to my nether region. "And a beautiful tongue it is, I like the way the word rolls off of it. I just might let you say it when I fuck you," he says huskily and my lips parts, my mouth goes dry, but another anatomy gushes. "But that'll come later, let's talk about you Miss Steele and your malfeasances," he says. "Aw. The cat got your tongue. It doesn't matter. I simply consider this little incident as a means to get what I want. I'm a determined man and when I want something I'm not easily deterred. You'd do best to remember that."

"You're so predictable." I snort. "If it's your assertion that the means justify the end, then you did all of this just to come here and again threaten me?"

There's a shift in his demeanor, Christin becomes solemn, reflective even. He scrubs his face with his hand and for a moment, he just stands and observes me. Then he moves. So enraptured, I ignore the pinging warning me to take flight when I see him predatorily stalking towards me. Christian doesn't wait to close the distance between us, reaching out he captures my arm hauling me to him and I collide with his hard chest. Letting go, a hand weaves into my hair cupping the back of my head as the other finds my spine and while mine flies up going inside his jacket. My eyes shut and in a clear rebellion against my mind- my body takes control and groping him I stand on my tiptoes as I pull him down to meet me.

Christian's lips brush mine, the touch is tender, but the heat between us is red hot. It's like we've both been waiting for this exact moment and just as the thought enters my mind, his tongue darts out. As if this is our first time, his tongue explores the shape of my mouth; lapping my lips moistening them. Running the tip along the seam, seductively he coaxes my mouth open slipping inside drawing my tongue out but teasing me he pulls back when I hungrily seek a taste of him. In the same way I want to have my fill of him, I know he wants the same this is his ploy to torment me, to punish me in some way.

"No." He pants. "I want to savor you," Christian murmurs against my partially open mouth making me moan. Then he sinks his teeth into my bottom lip; gently biting it, sucking it.

"Aah." I groan as he increases the pressure, so much so, I expect the taste of metallic to flood my mouth; instead, it's the moisture between my legs that increases ten folds. Pressing on the small of my back Christian brings my body in tighter and releasing my lip his tongue penetrates my mouth as he presses his fabric clad erection into me.

At first, he's gentle. Our tongues swirling over each other and then Christian ups the intensity, thrusting his tongue deep into the back of my throat ravishing my mouth feeding his desperation. Applying pressure on his back, I grind against him seeking to quench my own desperate thirst. Matching my thrusts, Christian's hands caresses me covering every inch of my body from my ass, to between my thighs, and my hardening nipples as he becomes reacquainted with what he once knew so well. Unbelieving that I'm here with him like this, I enjoy being explored by his hands and for the moment, the memories of all he's done to me recess to the back of my mind. Unable or unwilling to remain there, they resurface ending the illusion and abruptly I push him away breaking our connection.

He staggers back. "No!" I shout, and with the memories looming fresh over me I lift my hand and with a vengeance, I swing landing a perfect strike to his chiseled jaw. The force of the lick sends Christian's face flying to the other side.

My adrenaline is flowing, I can feel the blood swooshing in my ear and shaking I watch as Christian sticks his tongue in his cheek assessing the damages. Rubbing the side of his face, he brings his head forward. His hand falls away and my hand print is visible. Impassively, he stares at me. "Feel better?" Cockily, he draws out and gearing up, I slap him again; this time on the other side. Harder.

"Now, I do," I snap and storming past him inadvertently my shoulder bumps his.

"I love you," he blurts out and I freeze. Coming from his mouth, the sentiment sounds more like a weapon he's using against me than a declaration. I'd prayed to hear him say the three tiny words to me, but coming from him they feel foreign to my ear and I wonder if they feel just as foreign leaving his lips. "It's what I'd been trying to tell you." He adds and I keep my back to him as I let the words settle in my brain because they're not being welcomed in my heart. "It's why I've gone to such lengths."

When I face him, the air surrounding me is frosty and from the looks of him, this isn't the reaction Christian was expecting. "Why?" Leaves my mouth when I'm thinking so much more.

"I guess I'm not so predictable after all." He mocks, but I'm not in a laughing mood.

"And what am I supposed to do with the information Christian?" I step in closer to him. "If you think I love you is the remedy for all you've done to me you are delusional. It's not a potent enough sab to heal the sores you'd opened with your degrading words and hedonist treatment of me. What did you think Christian?" I pause, "you'd sneak in here make some grand gesture and I'd be so grateful that I'd fall at your feet. Is this all you think it would take for you to make up for all you've done to me. Well, there isn't enough I love yous' in the world, you've underestimated your propensity for cruelness and apparently you've underestimated me too."

"I thought this is what you wanted." He bellows.

Flinching, my body recoils. "Yeah, maybe 4 months ago, but since then what I want has been replaced with what I need."

"I've changed since then too and I've come to realize that you're what I want. And what I need."

"Well, you're not what I need and I'm not so sure you were ever what I wanted."

"Even as the words leave your mouth, I know you don't believe them."

"Here's the thing Christian you don't love people you possess them like things, moving them around like pieces in your real life game of Monopoly. Well, I'm not some acquisition or part of your portfolio that you can buy or sell on a whim."

"No. You're not, you're far more important to me than any of those fucking things."

I step back. "In one sense I'm thrilled that you're experiencing this epiphany because now you can get a dose of how I've felt, but I think it's time for a reality check here. So tell me, Christian, when did you first know you were in love with me? Was it after you took my virginity and left me stranded in your bed like a common whore? Or was it after you called me a whore?" I pause to let the word sink in so he can taste my bitterness and feel it too. "Or maybe it was when you walked in here for the first time waiving a phony ruthless contract in my face threatening me…"

"Stop it, Anastasia," he yells interrupting me. "I think you've made your point."

"Oh no Christian, I'm just getting started," I snarl. "This list is longer, but I haven't forgotten one iota. I've yet to touch on the best parts; the money, the baby."

He runs his hand through his hair. "Don't you think I know what I've done," he seethes, "I don't need your fucking reminders; I'm haunted by them every day. So, you can't make me feel any worse than I already do." He comes closer. "But baby I'm sorry," He whispers.

I flinch when he tries to touch me. "You can keep your apologies, there are some things sorry can't make up for like the wrong you've done to me. This show isn't about me, it's about you; because you've decided that you feel a certain way I'm just supposed to fall in line. Well, too bad; I'm not going to bend to your will just so you can feel better about yourself. You made me beg for your affection, only to turn around and throw it back at me." I shriek. "But you know what they say, Christian, turnabout is fair play, so now it's your turn to see how it feels to love someone that doesn't love you back."

Smugly, he grins. "I'd agree with you if it were the truth. If you don't love me, you'd better tell your body because it's giving you away. You're flushed, I can feel the heat radiating from you and I don't have to stick my finger in your pussy to know you're wet for me."

I swallow. "So, what I'm turned on, isn't that what you do to women. But you're confusing my physical state for my emotional one. I can want you in my bed, but not outside of it."

He smirks. "Careful Anastasia, you're slipping. Your hardcore girl routine is about to get you in over your head. I'm not here to play a game of wordsmith with you. I'm not here to play at all. I don't play games, save it for the boy. I've told you how I feel and I can't believe you'd hurt yourself; in order, to hurt me?"

I sigh. "You're the one slipping. You're clueless, this isn't to spite you, it's self-preservation. You'd hurt me so severely that I'm just recovering from it so I won't let you drag me back down that rabbit hole." I can feel the tears pricking the back of my eyes so I bat my lashes to keep them back.

"Baby, you're missing the point, you changed me, Anastasia. I won't hurt you, let me prove it to you."

I'm at its mercy, the water starts trickling down my face. "I can't trust you because you can't help yourself, Christian, it's part of your nature. And to your credit, you tried to warn me; I didn't believe it then, but I believe you now. You don't love me, you want what you can't have. I'm only enticing to you because I'd showed signs of a developing backbone and challenged you. Well, this new me, is in its infancy and I like who I'm becoming." I cry out and he reaches for me and again I recoil from him. I see the pained etched on his face, but I can't surrender. "I don't want you to touch me. I don't need your brand of comfort; the cost is too high. You want to lull me into believing you're someone that you're not. You're a lot of things Christian Grey, but compassionate and kind aren't any of them. You don't have a heart remember."

"You're right, I didn't have one and I'd survived just fine without it and after you found my heart and now I'm dying. So, do you think I like feeling this way? Do you think I want to feel at all? No!" He screams. "I was content living my cold, shallow existence of a life, reveling in my success and all the power it brought me then in one night my universe shifted." He stretches out his arm and, this time, I don't move away and he runs his hand through my hair stopping at the ends. "I can't do this without you, Anastasia." He murmurs and his hands drops to his side. "I know I'm late to the party, but I quickly learned that love is not all hearts and flowers there's some thorns mixed in there too. Sadly, thus far I've only experienced the thorny side of love. The pain. Being without you has left me empty and my existence meaningless. It's killing me. I've prided myself on being able to endure pain, but the pain of the flesh doesn't compare to the pain of an aching heart. So, I need you just; as much as, I want you."

The tears are streaming now and I want so badly to grasp onto his plea, but there's a gnawing in my gut that won't let me. "Here's the thing Christian, you've had the opposite effect on me. You intentionally made my life a living hell, while what your suffering through is your own doing. It wasn't at my hands. Meanwhile, I'm just finally healing, from all you've caused and you show up here wanting to take me backwards. By thinking you could kiss me, say I love you and wipe the slate clean you've marginalized me and my feelings. The damage you caused in my life can't so easily be undone." My voice breaks.

He glances up at the ceiling and then back at me. "Then tell me what I need to do."

"Leave." With my hand, I catch the water rolling down my chin.

He shakes his head. "Anything, but that."

"Go!"

"No!"

Burying my face in my hands, I let go and I can feel him encroaching. "Don't." I stick a hand out in warning.

"I don't care what you say when it comes love the physical and the mental are one in the same. You taught me that. You can lie to yourself, but you can't lie to me because I can see it all over you. You want me in your bed, you want me everywhere you are. So stop trying to fight it."

I find the confidence and assuming a more authoritative stance I look him in the eyes. "Ask me, Christian. Ask me when I first fell in love with you."

He doesn't hesitate. "When did you first fall in love with me?" He repeats verbatim.

"Before I knew what love was, I was in love with you. When you were just Christian, one name. An unknown boy from the night. And then again at the photo shoot when I first saw your gray eyes, and when even deeper yet when I connected the dots. My existence was complete, I'd found my Christian. Not Christian Grey, the multi Billionaire, but Christian Grey, who unbeknownst to him was the holder of my heart." I'm breathless. "Now ask me when I fell out of love with you?"

He processes the question and recognition dawns; he dispatches with asking and goes straight to the answer. " Saturday." A one-word response.

The day doesn't require any further demarcation to solidify its place in infamy. "Yes. The day you tore up our baby's sonogram." I struggle to get the words out, but I stick with it. "That marked the end for me, so do you believe me now?"

I'd never seen Christian look so broken, but I know this is the right thing to do. "Yes." Sticking his hand into the breast pocket of his jacket Christian retrieves what looks like stationery. Holding the paper in his hand, he stretches out his arm. "Here, this is for you," he says and reluctantly I reach for it, but is grip is so tight I'm not so sure he wants me to have it.

Grasping the white paper, I hold it up and I gasp. The sonogram. "How," I whimper.

"Grace, helped me. With my resources and her medical connections we were able to get it without much effort."

"Dr. Grace knows."

"Yes, I was sinking Anastasia I went to the one person I trust the most and once I told her truth about my feelings for you. Naturally, the truth about the baby came out. As you can imagine she was hurt and disappointed, but mainly hurt. And I suspect she left me standing just so I could make things right with you." He swallows. "But it looks like that's not going to happen. But before I go, there's something I have to know. The sonogram didn't give much away, but you keep referring to the baby as a boy. Was it a boy? Was our baby a boy?" His voice cracks.

Pressing the sonogram to my chest, I stare into his glistening eyes. He said the one word more important for me to hear than the other three he'd strung together…Our. "I don't know. It was too early to tell, but I always felt it was a boy."

"I thought so. I was hoping you were privy to more information. Thank you." His mouth curves up into a smile, but it's a far cry from his usual panty-dropping one. There's a longing. It's a sad one. I've never seen it and I hope I never see it again. "I think it was a boy too." He winks and my heart sinks for the man standing before me and the baby we'd both lost. As my emotions start to get the better of me, Christian turns slowly making his way to the door.

My eyes stay fixed on his expensive shoes as they make eerily quiet steps to the front of the apartment as if they're not making contact with the wood of the floor. However, the silence is broken when I cry out in my head for him not to go when his hand curls around the doorknob. That's the problem, it remained in my head because in real time I stand silent.

Though it's my insistence sending him away, I can't bear to watch; my resolve crumbles and I turn my back to him as he's already done to me. But the telltale click of the latch disengaging is my undoing. My knees buckle, and clinging to the sonogram I broke down sinking to the floor on my knees.

The door slams and the trickling becomes a downpour. The stream of water down my face burns my skin the pain is so searing. Jarring. That best describes the ache of losing him this time around- a physical shock to my system. And maybe it's because I had him and I let him go. I close my eyes, squeezing the lids tighter and I put the heels of my palms on my temple throwing my head back in agonizing disgust. "What have I done?" I scream out loud and there's no mistaken it's for real; the shrill is blood curdling, it pierces my ear. A sob catches in my throat forcing me to gasp for air. My head falls forward and my hands land on the floor as I heave. Recognizing the signs of a panic attack, I summon the breathing techniques I'd learned.

Strong arms cocoon me and tilting I lean into the inviting embrace resting the back of my head on the reassuring shoulder. "Breathe Anastasia," he whispers his embrace getting tighter and his voice more syrupy.

With my breathing restored to normal, my meltdown resembles something more respectable, even the tears fall at a more manageable rate.

"Don't cry baby, I'm here. I'm here. I'm here," Christian coos over and over as he rocks me from side to side. "I'm not running anymore. Why bother, it's futile – running away only brings me back to you." He presses his face to the top of my head. "You may not want me to be. And I damn sure don't want to be, but I'm done fighting the inevitable. For the first time in my life, I'm in love – and it's with you." He confesses.

Laying comfortably on his shoulder, I stay quiet during his monologue, but I can't hold back any longer. "This isn't love Christian," I mumble as he rocks me.

He stops and angles his head downward for a look in my face. "What did you say?" He asks, but his tone confirms that he'd heard me. Feeling caged in all of a sudden, I bring my head forward and swinging my arms I break free of his hold coming to my feet. For a moment, Christian gawks up at me but he eventually follows suit.

I swipe the back of my hand under my nose, leaving the rest of it to take care of itself. "This," I say in strangled voice, pointing in front of me towards the floor for emphasis, "is something perverted only we share. I've seen love Christian and it doesn't look anything like this. Me like this. It's what only you do to me. So, is this really what you want, me in this state? Because this is who I am when, you're around."

"So what are you trying to tell me Anastasia, the boy you call yourself dating is your idea of love? Bullshit." He spits out and steps to me until he's close enough for me feel the disdain emanating from him. "You don't want ordinary when you can have extraordinary."

I step back before my brains turn to mush due to his close proximity. "Yes, I had extraordinary with you but like everything good that comes from you it was fleeting. You ruin everything you touch, including the only good that that came from you and me." I huff. "I want something dependable and durable that doesn't leave me depleted the way I am with you."

"Maybe, what's between us is messy, complicated even. It goes against the grain of everything I believe, but it won't be denied. It's a force of its own; raw, unconstrained, and that's why you feel the way you do when you're with me. I stoke the flames deep inside you only I know exist allowing you to balance on the edge where we thrive. After all, we're cut from the same cloth, afraid of the light functioning best in the dark," he says.

Nodding, I shake my head feverishly from side to side. "No, we're not. I want the light. Lots of lights, bold beaming light, the more, the better; your darkness is too dark for me. I don't want to exist in a world where the only light comes from what shiny object you decide to buy to shield yourself from the truth; your Charlie Tango, Escala, and to some extent GEH. All point to one thing that you need help Christian, not me." Leaning down, I place the sonogram on the coffee table and I start to the front of the apartment.

Christian grabs my arm. "Don't you walk away from me," he snarls but his harsh tone can't hide the fear in his eyes.

"Or what Christian? You'll hold me against my will. Wanna adds kidnapping to you wrap sheet?"

He drops my arms but pins me with his gaze. "I don't care what you say, I know you love me." His words are an affirmation more for his benefit than for mine. He needs to believe his truth; I don't begrudge him, I was in his position once.

"You used to know me, that's why you could play me. But I'm different Christian, I'm not so gullible as to so easily fall this time. I have you to thank for it, his is your creation. You should be happy," I say sarcastically.

Continuing towards the front of the door, I open the closet pulling out my coat. "What are you doing?"

I pick up my keys and purse on the table and peering into the living room I stare at him. "You can stay, I'll leave. And Christian don't think about following me or sending Mr. Taylor after me." I open the door. "Or I promise you, you won't be happy with the consequences." Slamming the door, I race to my Beetle and sliding inside, I start the engine before he tests my empty threat and comes after me.

I peel away with no idea of where I'm going, I didn't think that far ahead. I just reacted, Dr. Ryan wouldn't be happy about that. And if she were in town, I could visit her for an impromptu session. But the truth is, it doesn't really matter where I go, Christian is overwhelming me so as long as I'm someplace he's not I'm good. But he's right I want him to be everywhere I am, but loving him is too much of a sacrifice and despite the strong pull it's not one I'm willing to make.

* * *

I jump, startled by the rapping on my window and my head pops from my unplanned nap. Focusing, first my eyes fix on the structure in front of me, a house that I've seen maybe once, then on the young man to my left, who looks more curious than threatening. But out of an abundance of caution, one close call is enough, I bring the window down just a fraction.

"Ana right," he says fitting his fingers through the crack. "I'm John. Luke 's friend."

Relieved, that he is someone I can trust I roll the window down all the way. "Yes," I say taking his hand now that I can shake it properly.

"I thought I recognized you from the mountain of pictures Luke has on his phone, the classic Beetle, and not to mention my wife's description," he says releasing my hand.

I smile. "So many choices." I joke. "Well, he has a few of you too."

He chuckles "I guess he does. Hmm, but you do know Luke's out of the country, right? But I can call him if you need me to. We haven't spoken in a minute so at this point I'm not sure what time zone he's in but I know he'd want to talk to you."

"Don't be so positive, Luke and I broke up before he left."

"I'm well aware, but I happen to know that you're still very important to him," John says his fingers hovering over the dial pad ready to go so my hands fly up in a crisscross motion as I frantically wave for him not to do it.

"Don't call him. I know he'd talk to me, but he'll only worry when I'm fine. I simply pulled over for a moment and I guess I fell asleep, but I'm awake and ready to go."

Warily, John stares at me. "Forgive me Ana, but if you were just looking for a place to pull over, there are hundreds of locations in your neighborhood or closer you could've gone to without driving all the way across town to your ex-boyfriend's old hang out knowing he wouldn't be there unless you were looking for something. This was no accident, you came here for a reason."

I don't acknowledge him. "Thank you," I say snidely and giving him an appreciative wave I roll up my window and I start the engine so I can make my getaway.

Several houses down, I pull up behind a line of cars parked on the street. I leave the engine idling and grabbing my bag from the passenger seat, I pull out my phone. Straight away I see a list of calls all within seconds of each other and all from Christian. I recognize the number though he's no longer programmed into my phone. Pressing in my code, I go directly to the call log and hit delete. Then I go back to the main screen pressing on the text icon. Similarly, there's a plethora of text messages from him, and mixed in is one from Sean and even Damien. But I'm not in the mood to converse, by any means with anyone so they all suffer the same fate as Christian. And just as I'm about to put the phone away it buzzes and the familiar number appears but I hit ignore and slide the phone back into the bag.

Arriving on my street, I slow and relief fills me when I drive up in front of my apartment and it's shrouded in darkness. Then the sense of relief morphs into something more like sadness when realization dawns…he's not inside which means he's gone. Shaking off the melancholy, I turn off the engine and grabbing my purse I get out of the Beetle.

Emotionally drained and just plain tired, I remove my coat hanging it on a peg too lethargic to take the next and open the closet. Setting my purse and keys on the table, yawning my fingers search for the light switch.

"Is your fucking phone broken." His disembodied voice cuts through the darkness making me holler.

My trembling fingers locate the switch and flipping it, I spot him in the chair fuming. "For God sake Christian," I shout as I lay a hand over my heart, "you have to stop this, twice in one day is a bit much." I admonish and I step forward. "What are you still doing here anyway?"

Dressed more comfortably, Christian comes to his feet. His tie and jacket are gone and the perfect white shirt has wrinkled some but the sleeves rolled up completes his disheveled appearance perfectly. "Do you have to fucking ask? You've been gone for hours without; as much as, a phone call. For all I know, you could've been lying somewhere hurt. So, do you think I'd leave under those circumstances? The not knowing was fucking killing me."

I concede his point. "I'm sorry and I appreciate your concern, but I'm here now so you can go," I say walking further into the apartment.

"Is that all you have to say? Where in the hell have you been all this time?"

"You know what Christian, it's been a long day and I'm exhausted," I sigh, "and quite frankly I don't have in me to go another bout with you so can you please leave my home so I can get some sleep. If we must, we can pick up this conversation at a later date." He glowers at me, but before he can object my phone beeps.

"I guess I have my answer," he quips. "It works."

Staring at my bag, I debate picking it up but deep down I know I can't resist. "I need to get it." I'm almost apologetic, and I'm not sure why he's the one invading my personal space.

"So you'd pick up the prick's call and ignore mine. I recognize the ringtone, I sure as hell heard it enough times while I was waiting for you when I visited you at Harvard," he says matter a factly.

I wrinkle my brows. "What selective memory; you didn't visit me, you stalked me…your MO." I smirk, before racing to the phone.

"So, is that where you were, with him and he's calling to make sure you made it home." Christian barks.

Ignoring his rant, I pull the phone out my purse. "Hello," I say catching Luke before he hangs up.

"Thank God you answered I was going out of my mind since I hanging up with John."

I cover my mouth to block Christian from hearing me. "I'm okay, I told him not to call you." I whisper.

"Why are you talking so low?" Luke pauses and through the phone I can hear the wheel's turning. "Fuck me it's him. Of course, it's him. No one else makes you act so insanely. And he's there with you isn't he?" He asks and answers his own question. "Fuck me of course he is and I'm halfway around the fucking world unable to protect you."

I feel Christian hovering. "I gotta go." Abruptly I disconnect the call, stuffing the phone in my front pocket. Even on different continents and without knowing each other, Luke and Christian are having a pissing contest.

Derisively Christian snorts. "You know that won't stop me right? I don't need your phone. I have the unlimited resources to track him down."

"You wouldn't."

"That's a rhetorical question. You I know would. And I will. And when I do I will make him pay."

"Christian you and your threats, you should stop acting like a bully."

"Oh baby that's not a threat, it's a done deal." His face is impassive, but his eyes tell the tale. "Don't worry I won't kill him. I'll just make him wish he were dead for touching what's mine."

I roll my eyes. "Then he's safe because I'm not yours." I quip.

"That's just a formality. I don't believe you'd trade what I have to offer for a trip to the movies and the occasional dinners at Macdonald's." He derides. "But if that's what you like, I'll buy you a chain. Fuck, I'll buy you the Corporation and I'll throw in a few movie theaters for the hell of it. I'd find a place for them GEH's portfolio."

"That's the problem with you Christian, you think everything can be solved with a dollar sign in front of the solution."

"Sure it can, the only people who think it can't are the people without the resources. I've lived in this world, with and without and having money makes it a whole lot more bearable."

"Well, you can count me in the without column and from looking at you, it doesn't make we want to change my status."

"Don't tell me you're buying into that stale old adage, sure money doesn't make you happy, but with it happiness becomes irrelevant."

I tilt my head to the side. "Yesterday, I'd say you were the poster child for the cynical statement."

His mouth quirks up. "And now?"

I bring my head forward. "Not so much. You wouldn't be standing in the middle of my apartment talking about love if you believed in what you're saying."

He's hopeful. "Does that mean you believe me?"

"I believe you think you love me but at the same time, I don't think you're capable of love. That's why I'm not ready to buy into the hype."

"What more do I have to do to get your buy in". He uses air quotes.

"Stop pressuring me. You've had months to get to where you are, so give me the same courtesy of time. Ironically, unbeknownst to the other we've been working through our feelings for each other. Sadly, we were going down different paths, now you need to allow time for our paths to reconnect."

"I'm not a patient man, Anastasia."

I walk up to him and lay my hand on his chest. "I know, but I'm worth the wait," I say seductively and he opens his eyes. Removing my hand, I maneuver around him aiming for the sofa.

"I was at Escala you know."

Pivoting, I turn around and my face contorts. "I don't understand," I say, but a knock on the door cuts the conversation short.

Bemused, like me Christian stares at the door. "Tell you what, you get the door while I get myself something to drink. I'm thirsty."

I smirk. "Sure, after all, you know where the kitchen is and since you've spent hours alone in here, you're probably more familiar with my apartment than I am."

He nods his head towards the door. "You and your smart mouth. Get the door. With any luck, it's your boy and I can save myself some work and kick his ass right now."

I roll my eyes. "Bully," I murmur to myself.

"I heard that you know." He chuckles. "The things I could to that smart mouth." Christian jokes. I wait for him to walk to the kitchen, for no other reason than to appreciate the way his pants are hanging low on his hips and to think of things he could to my mouth.

Shaking my head, I avert my gaze from his ass reminding myself of what I was about to do. With my perennial stalker safely ensconced in the kitchen, I rush to the door before whoever is on the other side knocks it in. Absentmindedly, I pull it open and; as soon as, I do I make eye contact with Copper. Without so much as a word, he takes me by surprise, cupping the back of my head and coming in for a passionate kiss. And unfortunately, I'm not able to break away from him before Christian sees.

"What the fuck?" Christian shouts out, and simultaneously I hear glass clattering on the floor and feel water nipping the back of my heels.

Copper responds by releasing me; however, his reaction time isn't swift enough for Christian. He shoves me aside and grabs Copper by his shirt collar.

And before I can grab his arm Christian's fist makes contact with Copper's face. The cracking sound it makes is bone chilling. "Christian," I scream jumping between him and Copper before he pummels the poor guy to death. Somehow I manage to pull him back, giving Copper the opportunity to escape. Huddled in the corner, Copper cups the side of his face."

"Is that the fucker?" Christian is spitting mad.

"No," I yell as I shield Copper from any further blows. "Please, step back and I'll explain later," I say, resting my hands on Copper's shoulders in a nurturing manner.

"30 seconds," Christian growls, "that's all the time you have before I finish what I'd started. And Anastasia I won't give a fuck who he is!"

I give Christian a sideways glance as I escort Copper out the door and with my foot I kick it closed. "Okay, what are you doing here?" I say as I inspect his face.

"Ouch." Copper grimaces. "Forget about me what's Christian Grey doing in your apartment and when did he turn into Rocky?"

"It's not important, and what do you know about Christian Grey?"

He tries to wiggle his chin, but it's too painful. "I'm at Stanford you know and I have buddies in the business department. So, why is he in your place?"

Cupping Copper's chin, I step in for a closer look. "It's starting to bruise, but I don't think it's broken. It just sounded really bad." Releasing his face, I step back from him. "And don't worry about who's in my apartment. You weren't supposed to be here, I specifically told you not to come."

"I know, but Ana I've been in love with you since we'd first met, but I've never had the courage to tell you until now. That's why I'm here."

I sigh. "Oh, Copper. I thought I was clear with you that the only thing we could ever be is friends. I'm so sorry you came all this way for nothing." Gently, I pat the side of his face. "Look I have to get going. Put some ice on your face. It'll probably be sore in the morning, but hopefully, you can keep the swelling down. I'm so sorry this happened to you and I'll check in on you later." I give his hand a comforting squeeze, and I rush back into the apartment before Mr. Kick Butte and take names later comes out.

When the door opens, Christian is waiting with his suit jacket on his arm. "Come on," he says grabbing my hand, "we're getting out of here. I can't deal with any more surprises."

"Where are we going?"

"The Heathmen."

"But Christian…"

He interrupts me. "Don't argue with me," he warns draping his jacket over my shoulders.

"But I haven't packed and what about the mess on the floor."

He shoves my purse in my hand. "Taylor will take care of it. All of it." He drags me out the door and slams it behind us.

* * *

**Heathmen**

I fasten the last button on my Hanro Pajamas, twist my hair in a loose bun and walk out of the bedroom. Seeing Christian sitting on the sofa, I pause at the edge of the room to appreciate the pretty- he's only in his PJ bottom. His good looks are distracting. I have to keep reminding myself, that he's the serpent, the forbidden fruit, and Satan rolled into one destructive package and I'm Eve. But I have the luxury of knowledge, I know the hell that will be unleashed on me if I partake.

Christian glances up. "Hey, are you just going to stand there," he says coming to his bare feet. To my dismay, even his bare feet are enticing.

Shyly I walk to him accepting his outstretched hand. "Thank you," I say taking my seat on the sofa.

He sits down next to me and throwing his arm over the back of the sofa he rubs the edge of my lapel with his fingers. "Comfy."

My eyes go down. "Yeah it is, Mr. Taylor did a good job, somehow he managed to pick out my favorite pajamas without me telling him."

"That's Taylor, it's why he's my right-hand man. But back to you, is this what you sleep in?" He stops rubbing, but his fingers linger.

"Mostly. I love pajamas and loungewear, I covet them, in the same way, girls my age do clothes and shoes."

"Well, I think you should sleep in silks and satins. But if I really had my way you'd sleep naked in my bed."

Playfully, I run a finger down his hand. "Well Mr. Grey, a good thing you don't."

He puts a hand on his chest. "Miss Steele you wound me." He feigns.

"Speaking of wound, let me see your hand."

Christina makes a fist and wiggles it. "My hand is fine, then again I'm not the one who was on the receiving end of my fist. Your boy is lucky you were there, or I'd beat his red head into the ground."

I can't help it, I let out a very unladylike snort. "Says, the man with flexes of red in his hair."

"True, but I don't look like a poor Carrot Top impersonator."

"How catty."

"Grrr," he roars grabbing my shoulders in a lighthearted manner Christian tosses me over his knees.

"Aha," I squeal in surprise giggling like a loon and in dramatic fashion I land in his lap. Looking down on me his eyes sparkle with mirth, as he cradles my head in his arms.

"I love to hear that sound, what do I have to do to make sure I always hear it?" I smile up at him and lowering his head Christian nuzzles my neck tickling me causing another laughing fit. Then he brings his head forward. Relaxed, his striking features are softer making him look younger- more his age. Someone, I could fall in love with- like the Christian I first fell in love with.

Raising my arm, I cup the side of his face and he leans into my touch. "Right back at you Grey, stay this way. I like it. You're jovial, relaxed and having fun." I whisper and I let my thumb graze over his closed mouth. "I like you this way, promise me that this is how it would always be with you."

His face twitches, as he tilts it away from my hand then back. The movement is faint, but in short order, I'm learning the littles ticks that hint at his insecurities. Angling his head downward, Christian pecks a kiss to the heel of my palm. "I love you and would lay the world at your feet if you asked me too, but I can't deliver that to you and I won't make a promise I can't keep. At my core, I'm all the things you've said about me and then some. But Anastasia whoever and whatever I am. I'm all yours," he professes.

His honesty and sincerity pricks my heart and just as I'm about to speak Christian sits me back up. "I want to trust you Christian, but it's hard." I press my hands together and steeple my fingers at my mouth. "You go to the forest, but you miss the trees." I drop my hands. "Christian, you tend to go big when it's the small things that matter. You want to give me the world when what I need is so much smaller comparatively speaking." I pause. "Full disclosure, I'm only here because you gave me no other choice, the same with going with you to Escala. Yes, I'm curious but at this stage of the game, I wouldn't be going. I know you know this, but I just wanted clear so you wouldn't misconstrue why I'm here."

He moves a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "I don't care why you're here as long as you're here." He breathes. "Just promise me that you won't run."

"Like you I won't make a promise I can't keep, because if there's anything that will affect my mental stability all bets are off. But you can rest assure that I will keep an open mind." I say.

"I can't ask for more than that. Why are you fighting me so hard on us?

"It's too much too soon and on a good day Christian you overwhelm me. Right now you're like a tsunami coming at me and I can't climb fast enough. You don't fully grasp the breadth of what you did to me and how it affected me. If you did, you would've taken another approach. But with you, it's one extreme or another. No middle."

"To me the middle equals indecisiveness. I'm successful because I'm able to think on my feet and make fast, decisive decisions."

"That's business Christian, this is personal you can't conflate the two."

"Then teach me."

"What? I'm still learning this whole relationship thing myself."

"Well, you're more of a Subject Matter Expert than me." He smirks. "We can learn together."

"You're incorrigible, you did that intentionally."

His lips quirk up in a wry smile. "Lay back," he orders, and he's already gently push me on my back. Grabbing my feet he hustles to the other end of the sofa. Once my body is fully outstretched, Christian slides down to the floor.

I sit up on my elbow and I see him on his knees. "What are you doing?"

"Sheesh, lay back down," He orders and he begins loosening the last button on my shirt his fingers skimming my skin as he works.

Every muscle in my belly quivers. I moan. "Christian." I warn.

"I wish you would've eaten more for dinner," he says out of the blue.

I sit up on my elbows. "Okay, I think this is as good a time as any to give you a crash course. Lesson one don't talk about a woman's eating habits when you're staring at her bare stomach."

He chuckles. "Duly noted," he says and I lay back down. "But seriously, I won't do anything to you, you don't want me too," he whispers as he splits the shirt in the middle revealing more of my bare abdomen. Then he starts rolling down the waistband of my bottoms.

My head pops right back up. "Christian, you're going too fast."

Ignoring me, he continues and I fall back into position. Coming very close to my nether region, Christian hesitates and I squirm anticipating one of his long fingers sliding into me penetrating my soaking wet core. At the same time, I curse myself for craving his touch, my legs even part for him. But it never comes. A touch yes, but not the kind I was expecting- it was more reverent than sensual.

"He was here," Christian mutters as he rubs his palm over the plain of my belly. "Our baby." He breathes.

I squeeze my eyes. "Yes," I whimper. I do best to keep the tears at bay, I've cried too much already.

"Foolishly, I'd let myself miss out on every aspect of my child's being. When Elliot told me, you'd lost the baby the world stood still for me; too afraid to let myself understand why, I pushed through it. But while I was feeling sorry for myself, I left you to grieve our baby's death alone and for that I'm sorry." Trying to contain my emotions, I feel Christian rest the side of his face on my abdomen. He holds on to my waist. "Anastasia, I never even heard his heartbeat," he murmurs.

I grunt and my hands move to his head sliding in his hair gently massaging his scalp soothing him through his grief. "It's okay, Christian," I sniffle.

"No, it's not. I wasn't there for our baby. I wasn't there for you. I was too fucked up. Please tell me you forgive me?" he says and my fingers stop moving. "Please say it. Say you forgive me."

So much progress, yet we're right back where we'd started. Christian asking me for something I can't give him. Me asking him for something he can't give me. What a pair? The tension is palpable and I want to give him some closure, but we're too far apart on this journey he wants me to embark upon with him. "I can't," I say and I remove my hand from his messy, but silky soft hair.

The sound of Michael Bubble fades further into the background as silence envelopes us. I can't even hear our hearts beating and if I didn't feel his breath on my skin, I wouldn't be able to discern if he was still alive. I'm starting to doubt my own mortality because I feel cold and rigid.

Slowly, Christian lifts his head and when he's upright, on his knees, he moves closer to my face. Snaking his arm underneath me, he brings my head forward resting his forehead on mine. "Our baby was just a blip, but aside from you, it was the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen," he whispers. My neck is uncomfortable in this position, but my pain is irrelevant at this moment, it's more about what he needs. "Is this what you needed from me, being still and celebrating our baby together?"

"Yes," I simper and his forehead slides as his lips trail down the bridge of my nose to my mouth.

And though, I threw a punch when he'd kissed me last, it's my body I want to throw in this scenario. My lips part and Christian sticks his tongue inside and I suck on the hot length making up for what I'd missed out on the last time. Pushing me back down to the sofa, Christian crawls on top of me never breaking our connection.

Then extracting his tongue, he moves his head to my neck as he presses his erection into me. Nipping my ear, his hands slide underneath my shirt and finds my mounds palming them. He squeezes, massages, and tweaks as he bites and sucks my lobe. Christian then comes back up to my mouth and removing his hands, he grabs each arm and one at a time puts them above my head arranging me just how he wants me. And I let him.

Spreading my legs further apart with his thigh, Christian lays flat between my legs grounding down own me. And even through the fabric of his pants and mine, I can feel every inch of him pulsating against pajamas-clad heat. I moan against his soft lips and his phone beeps.

"Fuck," Christian growls as pushes his erection into me. Then releasing my arms he collapses, burying his head in the crook of my neck. "It's Taylor," he mutter. "I need to take it, it's important." Giving me a peck on my shoulder, reluctantly Christians jumps up. "Taylor this better be damn important." I hear him say gruffly.

With Christian, in the other room, I use the alone time to inspect the space and assess the situation. Being in this suite feels like Deja Vu maybe because it's eerily similar to the suit I was last in with Luke or maybe it's the exact suit I was last in with Christian. I'll have to ask him later.

Walking towards the window, I let my eyes dance over the space, and I think on how surreal the day has been. My interaction with Luke and Copper caught me by surprise, but it's Christian presence that has the biggest potential to change my life.

"Sorry about the interruption," he says pulling me from my thoughts and I swivel to face him. "But, it's something that I needed to take care of before our trip to Escala."

"Don't worry about it, it was very timely actually," I say and he walks up to me.

Reaching behind me, Christian undoes my bun and my hair falls cascading down my back. "Franco will meet us at Escala to get your hair back to its original color," Casually, he says.

I balk. "Excuse me. You didn't ask me. I'm fully aware that if I enter into a relationship with you, there will be precious little I will have control over, but if you don't mind I'd like to maintain the say in what happens to my body and that includes my hair. I've already, given in to you on your ridiculous test thing, but this is a no go."

He snorts. "We see things differently. I'd hardly call it giving in, it was more like a compromise. You only agreed after demanding that I take the same battery of tests," he says flicking my hair over my shoulder. "Must you defy me at every turn?"

"Yes, especially when it entails you trying to usurp my will."

He smiles. "I don't remember you being this feisty."

"I wasn't. Sure I was hardened by the circumstance of my life but it was more inward. Outward I let me people make demands on me, getting me to do things I didn't want too, but therapy has changed me."

"Well don't change too much, I happen to love you the way are," he says.

"Too late," I snap and I bring my hand up trying to conceal my yawn.

"You're tired," he says stating the obvious. Let me take you to bed." Squatting, he scoops me up in his arms.

"Christian," I shriek, "You don't have to carry me I can walk."

"I know, but I'll use any excuse to get close to you." He says kissing my forehead. "So where to Ms. Steele- my bed or yours."

"My bed is safer," I say.

He smirks. "Says who?"

* * *

Nurturing me, Christian untucks some hair from my collar and sweetly he rubs my chin. "There you're ready for a good night sleep."

I slide up the headboard. "Thank you, but actually, I'm wide awake now."

"Oh," he says seductively.

"Don't get any ideas mister I was hoping we could go back to what you'd revealed to me at my apartment. We've talked about everything but that." Christian tenses.

"Let me repeat, I love you and if I knew what I know now I would've done things so differently."

"Stop stalling Christian and just tell me."

"After we'd made love…" I stop him.

"We had sex, I was there remember. You didn't make love." I say coldly.

The bed dips, as he brings a knee up and he turns to me. "Is this your story or mine?"

"Sorry," I say making a zipping motion over my mouth.

He shakes his head at me. "When you'd fallen asleep, I was restless so I occupied myself by watching you sleep. When it was clear that I wouldn't be sleeping that night short of waking you up and fucking you again, I did what I normally do. I played my piano. But even that couldn't simmer whatever it was that bubbling up in me. So I went back into the room and I sat in the chair in the corner and again watch you sleep. As your chest rose and fell you looked like the most perfect creature in the world, I couldn't let myself believe that you were meant for me. So I convinced myself that you deserved better, that I wasn't good enough so I called Taylor to put the plan in motion I'd just concocted right there on the spot. Though it was the middle of the night, it wasn't that hard for Taylor to get his hands on everything I needed to execute the plan."

"Yes, your money affords you whatever you want, be damned how it affects the rest of us mere mortals." I berate him. "Why was it necessary for you to let believe you'd left me."

"I thought it would've been easier for you to accept, and in some ways, I wanted you to hate me. Thinking if you hated me, you would easily forget me and move beyond the whole night making it a distant memory. But, in hindsight, part of it was because I was a coward. I was too afraid I wouldn't be able to follow through with my own plan."

Wiping the tears away, I grimace. "It didn't bother you to hear how much pain I was in? I was wailing like a wounded animal and you just stood by. I don't know what you were hoping to gain, but this new revelation doesn't make me feel better. And it doesn't put you in a better light. It makes me feel worse, that you could be at home and do nothing. Escala is large, but not that vast that you couldn't hear me."

He wipes the tears from my face. "It killed me to hear you suffer, so many times I wanted to go to you. Call it off. But I wasn't thinking clearly, I didn't know the fuck about love and I sure hell didn't recognize the feelings I was wrestling with was love. I thought I had the perfect solution to the problem."

"A problem?"

"Anastasia you're taking everything I say out of context."

I roll my eyes. "Okay, what about the days after?"

He runs his hand through his hair. "Immediately, after I was in a stupor and it was only when I found out you were seventeen, that I'd found a mission I could latch onto. I needed something to channel my pinned up emotions on so a manufactured vendetta was just the thing. I needed someone to blame outside of myself for my confusion and you were the unlikely and yet perfect target. Turning you into the enemy made easy for me to twist your innocent lie into something more sinister. That way I could justify my actions."

I throw my head back and the snot and water almost strangle me so I quickly bring it forward. I stare him in the eyes. "Why, didn't you just stay, things would've been so different." I whimper.

Sitting up on his leg, Christian throws his arms around me pulling me to him. "What can I say, I was a fool, but I swear if you give me another chance, I won't make the same mistake." Removing his arms, Christian grabs me by the shoulders, pushing be back to look at my face. "Will you take a chance on me? I'm all in. I love you."

Breathing hard, I maintain his eye contact. "One step at a time Christian. As soon as, we knock down one barrier another one pops up its ugly head?"

"Okay, I'll give patience a try," he says and reaching up with his thumb he wipes more moisture from my face. "I love you."

"Christian."

He smiles. "You don't have to say it back. Most recently it's become my favorite phrase and I want to say it all the time," he says and on a dime his expression becomes solemn. More serious. "There's something that's been bothering me."

Using the back of my hand, I wipe some residual moisture from my face. "Alright. What?" I sniff.

"You explained Copper to me and instead of punching him I guess I should've shaken his hand for looking after you the night the asshole groped you. But I can't get past why he would feel that it was okay to stick his fucking tongue down your throat if you weren't dating. So tell me just how many fuckers did you open your legs for?'

Flabbergasted I'm speechless. After our emotional exchange, this is where he's end up. More hateful rhetoric. "Asshole," I yell and my hand flies up.

In mid-air, Christian grasps my wrist. "Not this time." He squeezes my arm to almost pain. "A third time and I get to reciprocate." He sneers.

"You'd hit a woman?" He increases the pressure on my wrist and I grimace.

He smirks. "Yes. I would and I would enjoy every moment of it and so would you. But Anastasia slapping isn't my thing, it doesn't do it for me. I'd put you over my knees and spank that tight," He jerks my arm pulling me closer to him. "Tell me Anastasia is it still tight." He belittles and finding the strength I snatch my wrist from him and with my other hand I start rubbing the discomfort out. "Regardless, I'd spank it until it was the same shade of red as your face and then I'd fuck you into next week."

"Bastard."

"Why couldn't you fucking wait for me?" He chides.

I rub my wrist. "You're not being fair Christian, You didn't give me anything to hope for, and I had no reason to believe that there was ever a possibility for you and me. Besides, you didn't wait for me."

"I wasn't a virgin and you were aware of my sexual appetite so I'm sure you had no expectations that I'd be celibate. As for me, it was the exact expectation I had for you," he snarls. "I put you on a pedestal."

"You sexist pig." I shoot back. "You know what Christian you were on to something. You're not good enough for me."

He glowers at me. "Did you love him, Anastasia? And you'd better think hard before you respond because I'm not sure there's a right answer. As far as I'm concern there's only two likely options, either you slept with him because you loved him or you let him fuck you because he was there. And in case you're wondering neither is sitting well with me." His disdain is visible on his face, but his phone beeps before I can tell him the third the option. That he can go fuck himself.

Soon as he, disappears behind the door, I throw the covers back leaping from the bed. My feet hit the floor and hurriedly I retrieve the clothes from the closet I'd worn over and in one shot I slide my arms inside the sleeves of my shirt, then balancing on one leg I manage to get my jeans up. Because of the rush, I do without underwear.

Zipping up my jeans, I stick my feet in my converse and smashing down the heel, I dart to the bathroom picking up my toiletries. Then back in the room, I toss the empty luggage on the bed and throw the toiletry bag inside. Taking a second, I button my shirt and then sweeping up the clothes Mr. Taylor had expertly hung in my arms, I drop them inside the open case. Everything I need packed, I close the bag quickly zipping it up. Struggling, I get it down from the bed, and just as I'm about to make my move the door opens.

Christian stops in his tracks. "What are you doing?" He barks, but I see the fear sweeping over his face.

"Leaving."

He runs his hands through his hair. "Why don't you call it what it is; you're running." He accuses, as he walks further into the room and grabs me under my arm.

"Okay." I shout, "You win." I jerk my arm from his grip. "I'm running." I swallow to get rid of the lump that had just formed in my throat. "Away from you Christian. You remain careless with your words knowing the power they have to destroy me. So, I've come to my senses, and this is a sham you're perpetrating. The reality is we're no longer compatible and you know it."

"Compatibility." Mockingly, he chuckles. "That's what this is about?"

"Don't be so dismissive, because I'm right, you gave me the clues I just had to put them together. You want the virgin when I'm far removed from her and that's being conservative. Because if you were really honest with yourself, you'd admit that what you really want is the grown up version of me from the night you'd rescued me. Well, the little girl with big brown curls and doe eyes that was so beguiled by you that she saw you as the one perfect thing in her life, no longer exists. In the same way, the person you were that night no longer exists for me. We've been so busy chasing our ghosts, we'd missed the real people we've become. As angry as I am with you right now, I also feel sorry for you. Because I've been where, you are, trying to discern if I'm in love with the vision or the flesh. My fingers curl around the bag's handle. "Good luck with that."

"You didn't even give it a shot."

Gripping the handle, I step in closer and standing on my tiptoes I plant a chaste kiss on the side of his face, the exact spot where'd I strike him earlier and come back down to my feet. "Christian I made more concessions for you than you deserved so I'm not going to let you pin your guilt on me. Instead, I'm going to focus on the positive. That we honestly do care for each other, maybe even love; it beats the contentiousness we'd been living with. But Christian I can't be in a relationship with you where your mercurial ways dictate the tone. I won't let you make me your punching bag."

I step forward and he steps to the side. Continuing, I pause at the threshold of the room. "And Christian," I call, but he doesn't turn around to face me. He continues staring far out in the distance. "I forgive you for our baby. I think you've suffered enough. Your regret at what you'd missed out on far exceeds any punishment I could administer." He finally looks at me and I get lost in his soulful gray eyes one more time committing them to memory. Not the color, or the shape of them, but the way they sit perfectly perched on his face anchoring his good-looks. Then I avert my gaze and walk out the door.

The wheels on her overnight drag against the tiled floor. I make a mental note to buy her a new one. The sound reverberates around the room as she walks away from me and my gut tells me that if she makes it out the front door that she'll be lost to me forever and that would be the end of me. I wouldn't survive without her.

"Anastasia." I scream.

I hear Christian's panicked cries for me, and I speed up; hurrying to make it to the door before he catches up to me. But I'm too late.

Christian snags the hem of my shirt jerking me to him and stammering I collide with his body. "Let me go of me." I shriek, but Christian doesn't relent. He takes his feet sweeping the roller bag from my hand at the same time swatting my purse from the other. And without breaking his momentum, he gathers my wrists in one of his large hands thrusting my arms in the air above my head propelling me back as he shoves me up against the wall. I ignore the pain radiating up and down my spine from where my back connects hard with the wall, but I can't ignore the wind it knocks out of me.

As I struggle to breathe, Christian crushes his mouth to mine sucking up my remaining air. "I can't do that, you're mine," he murmurs against my lips and releasing my wrists he bends his head and latches onto a nipple through my shirt.

I weave my hands in his hair. "Yours," I moan as he sucks and tweaks my nipples. Hard. So I can feel it through the fabric. "Yes, I'm yours." Groaning, I tug on his hair.

He lifts his head, and my hands fall away as he continues to rise. Upright, he slaps his hands on the wall above my head and my eyes go upward. Flexing his hips, he pushes his erection into me. "Right now I need to be inside you." He hisses and he leans in and licks the shell of my ear. "A good fuck. That's what you need. I know, it sure as hell would do me some good." He says huskily as he grounds down on me.

Then running a hand along the outside of my thigh, Christian slowly brings my leg up to his waist and I do the same with the other wrapping them around him locking them in place.

Cupping me under the apple of my cheeks, he hikes me up his body securing me in place and my arms cradle his head as he pivots and carries me to the bedroom. His bedroom.

Holding her like precious cargo, I march quickly to the bedroom before I dismantle her and fuck over the breakfast bar. This isn't how it was supposed to happen, I'd planned to make love to her this time. But I'm nimble, it's how GEH functions so efficiently; I don't care what she says, I can marry the two- business and pleasure. After all, my business acumen came in hand, in this highly charged sexual situation. I saw the big picture and I was flexible enough to change course. I'll fuck her now and make love to her later.

Soon as my knees hit the edge of the bed, I stop cradling Ana under the apple of her ass and unfurling her arms then her legs, I push her down to the bed. Amused, I watch as her eyes go wide, as she bounces on the mattress.

As she comes to a standstill, I keep my eyes trained on hers and when she stops bouncing completely, I crawl up the bed. Straddling her legs, hovering over her I grip her shirt snatching it open and the buttons go flying landing on the bed and most likely the floor, but carpet is muffling the sound. Moaning Ana sits up on her elbows just so I can push the shirt over her shoulders and down her arms. With her shirt in hand, I lean over her and cover her eyes with it.

"Maybe I should blindfold you."

"Yes." Panting she agrees.

Mischievously, I chuckle. "Oh, Anastasia, not this time." I grunt. "I want to see those big beautiful blue eyes. You were right I love them but not for the reasons you think." I toss the shirt to the floor. "I like who I am when I see myself reflected in them." I whisper.

She peers up at me, but before she can say anything, I slide down her body back to the floor where I make quick work of her sneakers and jeans. Splayed out, naked before me, Anastasia remains every bit the perfection I remembered and I can't believe she's in front of me and not some cruel figment of my imagination.

I run, the tip of a finger down her lean thighs." "Oh, Christian she moans.

"I'm just testing to make sure you're real."

Anastasia draws her legs up to the knees and spreading them she reveals her glistening pussy to me making my dick swell. Coquettishly, she stares down at me through her long lashes. "Real enough for you." She breathes.

My lips curl up into a lascivious grin and I reach for the condom on the bedside table. Quickly, rolling it down my throbbing erection. This is an exercise in futility really, my concern about her HIV status is made up, some way to punish her. Despite how much I detest using them, they do have other values like guarding against another ill-timed pregnancy. Granted I realized I was in love with my child, still I'm not anxious in a repeat. After all, Anastasi is just 18, still too young for a baby; not to mention, the tabloids would have a field day. I can see the headlines now. Christian Grey knocks up his teenage girlfriend. I need to cool it, I'm getting ahead of myself, I need to get her back first.

With the intent to just that, I crawl up the bed between her legs. Holding my cock I line it up with her core that is seeping with her juices. "So Miss Steele, should I fuck you or make love to you. The choice is yours."

"Fuck me, please."

Infuriated, fisting the base of my cock I squeeze, taking my dismay out on my dick, rather than on her. I wasn't expecting her to be so bold with her response. Apparently, her sexual awakening was completed. Before she could barely say the word, now it's leaping off her tongue like a well seasoned… I stop before I let that word enter my thinking. Regardless, I'm not happy, clearly her well-timed quips about her sexual exploits were not just fodder designed to get under my skin- make me jealous. She really was fucking the asshole. My cock, at her entrance I run the tip along her folds, trying to erase the image of her splayed over her sofa, ass in the air and his cock lined up at her entrance.

"I aim to please," I say deadpan and I drive my dick into her hard making Anastasia scream and her body lurch forward.

Panting, she collapses back down to the bed. "Oh, God, please Christian," she begs and it is as much a plea for more as it is for mercy. I pull my cock out to the tip stopping at her entrance.

"Admit that you love me," I demand and Anastasia angles her head so she can stare at me. Her eyes are glazed and I can see sweat already forming on her brow. Depleted, I'll show her depleted. "Say it." I urge and I try to keep the desperation out of my voice.

"I love you." She pants. I close my eyes and my head tilts to the side as my body sags with relief.

"Yes." I groan and flexing my ass, I slam into her, again. And again, her body lurches forward as she cries out. And we repeat; she falls back and I pull out. I know I should take it easier on her, my size is a lot for most women to take less more one with her experience. But Anastasia needs to be reminded of few things...That she's mine, what I do to her, and that nobody touches what's mine

Her hand finds my face and I revel in the feel of her fingers on my lips. I bite the pad of her thumb and she smiles up at me. "I love you, Christian," she whispers and I think my heart is going beat out of my chest. She said it and I didn't have to prompt her.

I bite down harder on the pad of her thumb making her moan. "I love you to baby," I say pulling all the way out of her and she winces. "Are you sore?"

"I will be and I'll relish the aching, remembering every inch of you that put it there."

"Fuck, baby you're going to make me shoot my wad right here," I say huskily as I hook my arms under the back of her knees raising her legs in the air.

Peeking, down at me she gives a come-hither glance. "Go ahead, I'll swallow." She smiles innocently, but I see the glint in her eyes. She knows what she's doing and she knows what it's doing to me.

"Oh Miss Steele," I moan dragging her ass against the blanket a tad so her wetness connects with my cock and it glides right into her. Then I start pounding into her relentlessly, ending all conversation.

The beads of sweat forming on my chest rolls down my abdomen onto her damp skin as I hear and feel my balls smack against her ass with each deep thrust. And then I lower her legs to free my hands up to massage her clit as I thrust into her. Soon I feel Anastasia clenching around me as she reaches her peak and with another declaration of love for me she crashes. Soon I follow, coming hard, and I collapse on top of her. "I love you," I whisper.

He thrusts into me as his fingers glide through my wetness and I feel the walls come tumbling down as I reach my peak. And I know I'm in trouble he'd just sealed my fate. I'm his. As Christian crashes down on me, I lock the fingers on my hands together creating a circle with my arms and I bring it over his head encasing him. "I love you," I whisper and it's more like a prayer. I want this, I don't want this, I vacillate. But I have to trust time, it's the only indicator that will tell if I've made the right decision. For now, I'll just lay here happily sated and enveloped in euphoria.

"Did he teach you that?" Christian whispers against my neck and his now flaccid cock twitch a humiliating reminder that's he's still inside.

I try to move, the weight of him crushing me as his heated rhetoric strings, shattering my sense of hopefulness. My arms go slack and I unlock my fingers. "Christian, you're still in me for God sake, please don't do this now." Simpering, I plead

I lift my head. "If not now, then when Anastasia." I bark and she winces then I thrust to show her who's he in charge, that she doesn't dictate to me. But what was meant as a show of force is seen as an invitation by her pussy. Her wall closes around me. "You greedy little thing." She turns her head away from me.

Tears trail down the side of my face. I didn't want him to see me crying. Again. "Please stop, don't do this to me." I whimper.

"Look at me."

I don't want to look at him, I can't stomach the way he's looking at me. "Please Christian."

"Look at me." I repeat and slowly, her head rotates forward and her eyes are brimming with tears. "Is it me you're craving or is it him?" Her teeth sink into her bottom lip. "Are your tears for him or for me?" She looks away from me. "You had one fucking thing to do. Keep your fucking legs closed and you couldn't do that." I pull out of her and she tries not to wince. Sure she'll be reminded where I'd been, but he's been there too.

I know I'm being irrational and insensitive, but the thought of the walls of her pussy tightening around another man's dick in the same way as mine is too fucking much for me to handle. I can see the hurt and disappointment in her eyes, but I can't seem to stop myself. "You never answered me. Do you love him?"

Her chin quivers and she blinks trying to control the tears. "Christian," she murmurs, "please stop this."

Disregarding her plea, I get up from the edge of the bed and when I'm standing I remove the condom, twist it in a knot and throw it in the waste can. "Fuck it. Your lack of response tells me all that I need to know," I snarl storming out of the room charging to the bathroom.

He opens the door to the bathroom and light floods the room and then he slams it shut plunging me back into darkness. I let go and reaching for the bedding, I feel my nakedness, a reminder of how vulnerable I truly am. I know I should run, staying means subjecting myself to further humiliation and probable heartache. Christian will never get beyond my indiscretion, but my body is liquefied and I'm too exhausted. Wincing, I grab a fist full of the covers, pulling it over me I do the only thing I'm capable of doing curl up in a ball and close my eyes.

Securing the towel, I twist the knob slowly pushing the door back, afraid I'll find the room empty. Peeking through the crack, on the floor, I get a glimpse of her sneakers and my anxiety subsides. Feeling more comfortable I push the door open wider. Walking further into the bedroom, I get the confirmation I needed in the form of her sleeping body. The towel drops from my waist and I crawl up the bed in behind her barely fitting in the small space. Throwing an arm over her side, I pull her to me and resting my head on her, I let myself fall asleep.

"Uh," I yelp; my body tries to move, but something stops it from propelling upward.

It's Christian wrapped around me like Ivy trapping me. "Anastasia, are you okay?" He pants.

"No. I had a nightmare. I woke up and you were gone," I sob.

He rolls me onto my back and crawls on top of me. "I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. And baby I'm sorry for earlier," Christian murmurs.

Cupping the sides of her head, I kiss her eyes tasting her salty tears. Then I move upward, kissing the v between her eyes and then her forehead. Continuing I come back to her eyes and trailing downward I kiss her cheeks and by the time I've made it to her lips I've kissed every inch of her face reassuring her that I'm there. Then as a further confirmation, I nudge her legs a part and gradually I settle into her. She feels like home.

* * *

When Charlie Tango comes into full view on the helipad Anastasia's eyes, widen in awe and I burst with pride. Now that I have her, I know it's just an object but Charlie Tango is a big a deal for me. One of my greatest accomplishments. "Oh Christian it's beautiful, far more regal than I'd imagined," she murmurs and the corners of her mouth quirks up. "Boys and their toys." She giggles.

I return her playfulness. I'm amazed and the luckiest man alive that she stayed. "You and your smart mouth, you can't help yourself." I tease and entwining my hand with hers I jerk to me. "And this isn't a toy and I'm not a boy. It's a very expensive hobby."

"Okay, continue what are you? Charlie Tango is the hobby."

"The pilot."

She rolls her eyes to the sky. "That's so lame." Chuckling, Anastasia shakes her dead. "Don't quit your day job."

"Didn't plan too." I smile. I cup her face in my hands. "I need you to know I love you."

"I know, I just need to get used to it," she whispers and I pull her to me. "Now, watch your head when you get in and out," I say pressing her tighter to me. Holding Anastasia like she's going to disappear, I complete the safety rundown with her.

We land safely at Escala and I help her deplane. "That was fun."

"I'm glad you'll get more chances if you make the right decision." He winks.

"I can't believe you said that with a straight face. You had me by the second time you'd made love to me."

"So, you're saying I fucked you into submission?" I swat him on his arm and hit my cap in the process. So I have to set it straight. "I can't believe you made me wear this thing."

"I wasn't going to let you come out in this weather with wet hair."

As Christian and I debate the merits of having me dressed in so many layers, I hear barking and by the time I look around to see where it's coming from, there's a canine charging at us. Scared, he'll go over the edge of the roof, I drop to one knee blocking the rambunctious dog.

"Hey boy," I coo and he inundates me with sloppy kisses. And then the hairs on the back of my neck stands on end. My skin prickles.

"Sorry Sir." I hear and my head zooms upwards locking gaze with stunned blues eyes.

"Don't worry about it," Christian says casually. "It looks like I'm not the only one who finds my girlfriend irresistible." He chuckles. "I think I might have some competition." The dog barks, but we stay silent our eyes glued to each other.

If I weren't already low to the ground, it's where I'd find myself; I can't believe that the universe would be so cruel as to let this happen now.


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**: Ring of Fire

Disclaimer: FSOG belongs to EL James

**AN: This was suppose to be a Christmas Surprise, but a New Year Surprise is just as good- Thank you for reading, reviewing and following- please enjoy**

**I'm a far cry from my home in sunny CA sitting in front of a fire in cold OH. Still live is good and hope yours is too**

**Happy New Years**

My head zooms up, and our eyes lock in mutual disbelief. Neither of us speaks, but like at the scene of a bad crash we can't look away. His stare is eager, hungry almost and the familiar thrill warms me. He holds my gaze until a spark of panic shrieks through me at the thought of being found out restoring my sanity and I avert my eyes. Casting them down back on the only other witness to the truth. I thank God for how lucky we are that's he's of the four leg variety; he can't tell the tale. Then at the idea of a dark secret brewing, even in the coolness, the air around me crackles with the potential for trouble. Inexplicably, saliva builds in my mouth, forcing me to swallow to keep from choking on my spit.

Luke returns his focus to Christian, who's surprisingly oblivious to the awkward reunion taking place under his nose. "I s-see." Luke stutters, fortunately, Christian is dismissive of the flub. "Again, let me apologize. Benji, the dog, that's his name," Luke informs Christian perpetuating the charade. "He got away from me when I was trying to secure him to the banister. He's only here because I came straight from the airport. They shake hands. "I take it, you found the ride on the GEH jet suitable," Christian says. "Are you kidding? Every seat first-class, gourmet food, and top shelf liquor it's the only way to fly. And the timing worked out perfectly," Luke says.

Christian's chest swells. "Yes, it is," his says, his voiced brimming with pride. "Don't worry about the dog. Taylor gave you an edit, you had no choice.

"Thank you, sir."

Eyes are on me, but I'm too dazed and confused to discern whose. "Since you're here, meet the woman who was the impetus for me bringing you back," Christian says, and my mind is racing so, I miss that I'm pulling Benji's collar taunt until the poor dog simpers. "Baby, do you think you can pull yourself away from the dog to meet an actual person?" Christian jests.

The knot in the pit of my stomach twists tighter, at the same time, my legs go weak like jelly. A debilitating combination. I'm happy to let Christian assist me with getting upright. When I'm standing erect, Christian drapes his arm around my shoulders in some caveman display of territorial supremacy.

Luke's lips twitch with wry amusement; he knows what Christian is up to. I'm sure he's witnessed his jealous antics a time or two. Right then a wave of my jealousy hits me, followed by a flood of humiliation- Christian has done this exact thing to other women in Luke's presence. The stories he could tell. Glancing up, my eyes meet his again, and everything in my brain dissolves.

Grabbing hold of Christian's dangling hand I yearn for some clarity because Luke is robbing me of any purposeful thought. My fascination with him is on overdrive-Standing this close to him for the first time in months, is testing the allegiance of my affection.

My feelings are all over the place; regret, longing, fear as my two worlds collides in a most dramatic fashion. The proximity of the two of them is too close for my comfort; it fills me with the ping of queasiness you get when trying to decide between chocolate and vanilla. You already know whichever one you choose; you'll wish you had the other. Closing my eyes I can almost picture the young woman behind the ice box impatiently waving her scooper urging me to make my decision until she makes it for me; two scoops...one of each.

Christian speaks, I open my eyes and I'm not standing in an ice cream parlor. There's no counter, no girl, and chocolate and vanilla ice cream is not my dilemma. "Luke Sawyer meet Anastasia Steele, my girlfriend and your new Principle." I don't know what's a Principle, but the title is too official to be anything good. Christian's arm tighten around me as my mind wonders and I bristle at the compromising position he's unknowingly putting Luke and me in with his dicey proposal.

I glance at Luke, for his part he's impassive. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Steele." He's all matter of fact, and super formal.

"Likewise," I croak. In deference to Christian, I take Luke's hand in a limp handshake and drop it immediately. But it's not enough to squash the excitement ignited by the innocuous touch.

None the wiser Christian pulls me to his side, his hand sliding up and down my arm. He angles his head down. "Baby, you're shivering; I can feel it, even under all your layers I can feel it." Christian's head comes forward, and he gestures to Luke with his chin. "Miss Steele is freezing. I'm going to get her inside so she can warm up," Christian says, throwing his other arm across my chest to block the wind. Unbeknownst to him he's missed the mark. "We'll continue this conversation inside. Luke, bags are in Charlie Tango, bring them in with you." Christian orders.

The elevator doors ping open, and I'm already peeling the layers away, it feels like I'm suffocating. Rushing out of the steel box, I set my cap down on the small table I nearly bump into while the coat dangles vicariously from my hand.

My eyes dart from one corner of the large space to the next, but I don't give them time to linger. To do a thorough inspection. "Where's the bathroom?"

Christian plucks the coat from my hand. "Are you okay?" he asks, and I can hear the panic in his voice so to quiet his fears I make up something.

"Yes. I just have to pee. Bad." To sell the lie, I shift from side to side on one foot. "And wash my face," I add the element of truth, a bout of the guilt's hit me.

The worry lines fade, as his lips quirk up. "Since you're in a hurry, use the one around the corner." Christian points and speed walking in the direction of his finger my sweater is the next item of clothing to go.

The fluttering in my stomach is growing over the clusterfuck that has landed at my feet and I need the privacy of the bathroom to deal with the bubbling emotions. Heaving, I grasp the knob and having yanked the door open I let it slam close. My arms jut out, and my hands slap against the frame. Bracing on the smooth wood, I pant as my world spins out of control crashing on its way back down to earth. I knew it was too good to be true; fairytale endings don't happen to me without adverse consequences.

Removing my hands, I stammer on my way to the sink; the short distance proving to be too far. Throwing an arm up against the wall, I smash my forehead down on it. Pressing my head into my forearm, I try to normalize the spinning; make some sense out of the craziness. I start with an attempt to patch together the timeline. One minute he's on the phone with me, the next he's on Christian's Jet. Then he's here. How is it all possible? It's too much, so I give up. Why bother, the answers don't lie with me. Sucking it up, I remove my head and fall back against the counter.

Gripping the edge with one hand, I use the other to turn on the faucets. My strength returns and I let go. Cupping my hands together, I capture a handful of the water and splash it on my face. I do this over and over, as I ponder Christian's plan. Luke, following me 24/7 is beyond ludicrous, it's potentially lethal; so I have to find a way to thwart it. One last splash and I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Turning off the hot water, I leave only the cold then I slide a hand towel down from the rack. Running it through the water, I tilt my head back and lay the cold dampened cloth across my eyes. It's my hope that it can erase the redness and relieve the puffiness before I go back out to Christian. Then I hear voices...Christian's and Luke's. My head jerks forward and the cloth lands in the basin, as I scamper to get into position. I press a cheek to the door, so my ear is flat against it. I won't miss hearing a pin if it drops.

"Sir, where should I put these?" Luke says

Christian replies, "In my bedroom." There's shuffling of feet. "Luke before you go, I'm intrigued. What changed your mind?" Christian asks and I think it's the bags I hear make contact with the floor. But I can't be certain.

"I'm not sure I understand the question, Mr. Grey."

"Come on Luke don't sound insulted. I'd been trying to lure you back for weeks, increasing the offer at every ask only to be turned down. Each refusal as sanctimonious as the next." Christian's comment is condescending, but like him, I'm just as curious.

"Your final offer was very generous; I'd been a fool to turn it down in the first place," Luke says.

"Yet you did. So, the million dollar question remains, what changed your mind? Could it be that you wised up and came to the smart conclusion that in business as it is in life it is better to have me as a friend than a foe." Christian's level of arrogance knows no boundary.

"I didn't think of it in those terms, but it was something like that." There's silence. "Sir, permission to speak freely," Luke says.

"Please," Christian says.

"What does it matter, isn't it sufficient that I'm here." Luke is supercilious matching Christian's haughtiness. The tension is building with each exchange, the routine conversation is turning into a riveting tete-a tete.

"I make it my business to understand why people make the decisions they do. It's what gives me my edge, something I can use to my advantage," Christian says.

"Exploit their weaknesses you mean," Luke says.

"Something like that," Christian says, sarcastically.

"Sorry. Hate to disappoint no weaknesses to exploit, unless money counts." Luke says, and my heart sinks.

"Money, eh." Christian is pandering. "I'll have to inform Taylor. He suspected the girl was behind your sudden reversal. He thought you might've gone soft. I for one, am glad he was proven wrong. Because I need your fire, attention to detail, and clear mind to keep Miss Steele safe," Christian says.

"Soft." Luke scoffs. "Sir, I find it ironic that you'd bring up a woman, seeing that a woman is precisely the reason you brought me back. But you don't have to worry, I'm very motivated. More motivated than ever so Miss Steele will be very safe under my protection."

"Luke, I'll charge the slip up to jet lag..." I've heard enough, I need to make an appearance before they pull out muskets and the battle of words breaks out into a duel. Christian hadn't caught on that subconsciously Luke is secretly waging a turf war with him, for him the lofty rhetoric is merely his state of being.

Dashing out of the bathroom, I come to a halt when I get a glimpse of Luke. Nothing else matters, their voices die down. Stepping back out of Christian's line of sight, I use the opportunity to scrutinize his profile. My mind isn't as mottled and the light is showcasing him at his best. He's a dream, the unkempt way his hair is hanging suggestively on his shoulders is the touch of bad boy that's making him seductively dangerous. Aside from the longer hair and deepen tan, Luke's the same. He wasn't gone long enough for a dramatic change, but there is something different about him. I need time to pinpoint it.

My eyes move away from Luke just in time, peeking over his shoulder Christian finds me. "Anastasia." He beckons with his hand and Luke turns his head giving me a coy glance.

Why are you hanging back, join us," Christian says?

Cleverly, Luke shifts so Christian can't spot the indecent way he's staring at me. I inch forward, and his eyes follow me worshipping my every step. Aware of the lust emanating from him, I compel myself to stay focused on the prize- Christian. At least, it's the mantra on repeat in my head.

Somehow, I make it to Christian without melting under Luke's heated gaze. "You two were talking so I didn't want to interrupt," I say falling into the sanctuary of Christian's open arm.

Christian's head bends, but his lips miss my forehead landing on my hair,when I lower my head to catch my breath. "Hey baby," he says and out the corner of my eyes, I notice Luke's cool confidence slipping. "Nonsense, you're not interrupting. Luke and I were just finishing up." His lips touch my ear. "Feeling better?" Christian mumbles.

"Yes."

"Good." His head comes forward. "Luke I think you answered your own question, money isn't a weakness, it's a motivator," Christian says determined to have the last word.

Luke, still familiar with the ways of his boss, is content with letting is have it. "Yes, sir." Luke's humility has returned.

Christian offers Luke his hand. "Listen, Luke, I'm glad to have you back. Outside of Taylor, there's no one I trust more with protecting Miss Steele." As Luke shakes Christian's hand, our eyes meet but they're blank. No, secret messages being passed. Just blank stares.

"Thank you for the vote of confidence. Taylor is some high praise."

"Yes, he is," Christian says.

"Well, if we're done here, let me put your bags away. Then, if it's okay with you sir, I'd like to head out. I still need to find a place to stay and a kennel for Benji…" Clearing my throat, I intentionally interrupt Luke.

My head immediately goes up to Christian, and I flash my baby blues at him. "Luke, I think Miss Steele is trying to give me a hint. She wants to keep your dog. But, it's not going to happen. Sorry, baby Escala is not set up for animals."

"Animal," I blurt out. "He's much more than an animal, he's a pet."

Christian moves his arm and stares at me. "Okay, you petting the canine was sweet, but your reaction has me fucking jealous over the damn dog. I want all your attention." Stupefied, I glare at him over the absurdity and I can't help it, I glance Luke's way. His expression is impassive, but the red that's warming his face tells me that either he's alarmed by the depth of Christian's jealousy or embarrassed by his petulant behavior.

"Miss Steele, you don't have to worry, Benji will be alright. Besides, he should only be there a couple of days. Max." Luke says and he picks up the bags. As he starts down the hall, I give him a subtle nod to signal that I appreciated the thought. He tried to reassure me because he knows how I feel about Benji and Kennels.

When Luke returns to the main room, the mood surrounding Christian and me is frosty at best. "Luke," Christian says, "follow up with Taylor he should be able to get your living arrangements settled in no time. If it's not resolved by tomorrow to let me know," Christian says."

"Christian, tomorrow is Sunday," I mumble.

"And." He's Smug.

Luke's eyes roam from me to Christian. "Yes, I have plans too, that's why I'm not overly concern." He pauses and pulls out his cell phone. "Taylor wanted me to update you on your agenda. Dr. Green's appointment is firm, but he moved Franco's to tomorrow. Since you arrived later than expected, Taylor thought this would be best."

"Perfect. That's the level of professionalism I expect from you. Anticipating what's best for Miss Steele, without her having to tell you."

Luke cocks his head. "You can count on it, sir." Stepping into the elevator, he slides on his aviators and says, "Mr. Grey. Miss. Steele," as the doors close. Christian turns to me, and my head droops, to hide the relief on my face that I'd escaped the clusterfuck without a fatal slip-up. For the moment anyway.

He puts his hand on the small of my back and my head pops up. "Gail is at her sister's and Taylor is still in route from Portland so it's just you and me. Are you hungry?" Christian asks. "I happen to have it on good authority that Gail has food prepared for us."

I nod my head. "No," I say as he ushers me into the kitchen.

Stopping at the breakfast bar, Christian pulls a stool back for me. "Sit." He orders.

I roll my eyes up at him. "Thank you," I say as he rounds the counter. "Christian why do I need someone on me?"

"Would you like a sandwich?"

"No, I don't want a sandwich, I want answers."

"Don't start with me Anastasia," He warns. "You didn't eat much last night and very little this morning so I'd really like for you to eat."

"I don't have an appetite. Stop ignoring my question and answer it. Snubbing me won't work, I'll just keeping asking."

"I'm a public figure and with that comes inherent threats. So to keep you safe, I need you protected at all times, at any costs. And the term you're searching for is CPO, Close Protection Officer." He stares intently at me. "If you won't eat, at least, drink something. Why are you so pale, are you sick?" Reaching across the counter, Christian touches the back of his hand to my forehead.

I knock it away. "No. What's different from any other day, I'm always pale."

Scowling, Christian walks to the refrigerator. Grabbing a couple of bottles, he comes back to the counter and sets the Pellegrino waters down on it. Twisting the top on one, he takes his time filling a glass. And then slides it across the counter to me.

Stopping it with my hand, I pin Christian with my gaze. "Okay, Mr. Persnickety, I don't want a CPO."

He puts his bottle up to his lips and tosses his head back. Bringing his head forward, Christian swallows the big gulps and his Adam's apple bobs creating an erotic sight. I have to close my eyes to get rid of the image just so I can stay in character.

Christian slams the bottle down on the counter. "Anastasia you're with me which means you will need security, this isn't an argument I'm going to indulge you in. So end of discussion."

"In-dul-age." I sound the word out. "As in you were not taking me seriously before?"

His nostrils flaring, leaning against the counter, Christian plops his elbow down and propping his chin on his hand he taps his lips with his fingers. For the longest time, he just glowers at me. "Anastasia your safety is paramount to me. If something happened to you because of me, I wouldn't survive. So, I need you to be amenable on this."

"Okay, at least, explain to me why Luke and not Ryan?"

Christian stands to his full height. "What the fuck does it matter to you, if it's Luke or Ryan?" He snarls.

Instead of admitting the truth and preventing something disastrous, I flirt with the danger. I lie. "I'm not sure Luke is trustworthy. I overheard your conversation. He left your employment once and he's only coming back because you bribed him."

"Ryan is not the man for the job, Luke is. His character remains intact and call it what you will, but his loyalty has been bought and paid for; the compensation package he negotiated for himself was very lucrative." Christian is glib.

"Of course, your money to the rescue again. Someone else for you to control…to manipulate in your game of life."

"With all due respect, the money I pay my staff, which includes a very generous benefits package, affords me the luxury to make demands on their time and require certain things from them. They're not at my beck and call because they want to be, they come running because they can't afford not to. So, what you consider manipulation, I call job security."

"Well, I'm not one of your lackeys. Despite, the willingness I've exhibited, I don't want anything you have to offer. I'm not ready to accept your two pieces of gold for my soul. I'm not for sale." Defiant, I start sliding down the stool but before my feet can touch the floor, Christian is at me.

Fear clouds his eyes. "Anastasia, I don't know what more you want from me, I've capitulated to you more than I have anyone. But, I can't relent on your security."

I lift his hands from my thighs. "I'm no longer asking you. Christian, you're an irresistible force and I'm a moveable object and you steamrolled right over me. It's not your fault, I allowed you too. I wanted to be swept away by what you were offering. But I have to lose too much of myself, to accept it. Now, that may not sound like much to you, but it's everything to me."

He steps back and runs his hand through his hair. "What are you saying, Anastasia?"

My eyes are brimming with tears. "I'm sorry Christian, but I think coming here was a mistake. I should've trusted my gut."

Christian rolls his neck from side to side cracking it. "So, we're right back where we started?"

"Yes, because we never dealt with the problem in the first place. We did the easy fix, fed our carnal desires instead of nurturing our hearts. Sex is what has us in this quagmire."

"It was about more than sex to me, I've could've fucked anyone…"

I broke in."And I'm sure you have."

His eyes cut through me. "You're so quick to judge me. But, last night was my way of reconnecting with you. To remind you of how good we are together."

Derisively, I huff. "Connect. Surely you jest. Christian, you alternated between fucking me and deriding me. Thank you, but that's a reminder you could've kept to yourself."

Closing the distance I grab her by her chin and I still her forcing her to hear me. "I came back for you. Because, I didn't work without you. I was drowning I needed you to save me," I profess and I release her.

"While I'm saving you, who's going to save me," she yells, gutting me with the ugly truth. It's a reasonable question, that doesn't mean it doesn't sting.

My eyes sear into hers. "Great. I thought we'd gotten beyond this bullshit," I barked when I wanted to say you don't need saving from me. But like anything involving Anastasia, I can't seem to get out of my own way and, this time, is no different. Unable to keep up with her constant change of heart and unwilling to put up with the barrage accusations thrown at me, I pivot and storm out of the room.

As Christian disappears around the corner, the waterworks start and twisting on the stool I turn toward the counter. Resting my elbows on it, I bury my face in my hands. And just as I'm about to unleash a sob, my phone beeps. My eyes roam from pillar to post searching for my purse and I find it conveniently hanging from a stool next to me. A place I don't recall hanging it. In fact, I don't remember handling my purse at all.

Wiping under my eyes, I fish the phone out of the bag, and unlocking it, I review the text.

**Thinking of U…hope U R okay**

Through my watery eyes, I try to make out the number. I don't recognize it, but undeniable it's Luke. My fingers graze over the letters as more texts start rolling in one after another.

**Do not text back- read &amp; delete burner phone**

**I love the blonde**

**It's gonna be ok I promise**

A goofy smile creeps up on me lifting the weight I'm under from my argument with Christian and I press the phone to my chest. "I wish I'd been the one to put that smile on your face."

The stool twirls as I turn my body towards his distinctive voice and the hand holding the phone immediately falls to my side. Christian is leaning, his shoulder casually propped against the wall arms folded across his chest and his red bottom boot clad feet crossed at the ankles. Even, in the distant his good looks are beyond enthralling. So much so, it baffles me that someone like him could want somebody like me, and someone like me would have the audacity to be grappling with wanting someone like him. "Kate." Out of profound guilt, I offer up and I stuff the phone in my back pocket.

Christian lifts his shoulder coming from off his perch and he shoves his hands inside the front pocket of his jeans. "Ah, Katherine. How is Ms. Kavanagh this fine day?" The question lingers because I'm fixated on the imprint in the front of his pants. "Miss Steele, you've lost your tongue," he says, sauntering up to me. Standing in front of me, he takes my hair and moves it over my shoulders. "Good, I don't want to talk about Katherine anyway."

I swallow. "You're so handsome." Slips out of my mouth and I bite my lip.

"I'm just a face, but you're the whole package," I say, parting her thighs and I slide in between them. Taking my thumbs I wipe away the moisture still glistening on her cheeks. "I got to my office, and it dawned on me. I was clueless as to why we were arguing...Luke, security, us."

Anastasia throws her arms around my neck and lays her head on my chest. "Just hold me," she whimpers.

I wrap my arms around her. "I can do that," I say, pressing my lips to her hair. "I know I'm intimidating, but it is never my intentions to bully you. As much as, I want you. I need you to want me too. To want to be here," I murmur. "Because baby I've tried to exist without you and it doesn't work for me."

With my face on his chest, I hear Christian's heart skip a beat. Closing my eyes, I listen intently and melting into him I try to synchronize the rhythm of his heartbeat up with mine. "I do," I whisper and my eyes open. "I just need you to be more patient with me," I whisper against the fabric of his customary white shirt. I'm beginning to it's his uniform, like jeans and a tee shirt is for me. "You're coming at me so fast. Yesterday about this time I was just Ana worried about finishing a report and preparing for Spring Break; now here I am with you talking about a relationship I didn't see coming and security I don't want. Even you have to admit, it's a hell of a leap."

He chuckles "I get it. I need to reel it in some."

Nudging his arms, I get him to release me and I make a pinching motion with my thumb and index finger. "Just a wee bit." I tease.

"I get your point, Miss Steele," he says and he helps me down the stool.

"I know I'm here for a show and tell, but can we postpone it until tomorrow? I want some quiet, a chance to just be still."

Christian glances at his watch. "Dr. Green will be here shortly. So, tell you what when she leaves I will run you a bath and you can soak, relax, and be still whatever that means."

I cock my head and bat my eyes. "And afterwards, instead of dinner we could eat junk food in front of the TV and in my cozy pajamas, I could snuggle up next to you?"

He grimaces. "If I can't have you naked, then I'll have to settle with you swaddled in loads of fabric.

Playful, I swat him on the arm. "My jammies aren't that bad, be careful I could get the ones with the feet in."

He puts his hands around my waist, pulling me back to him. "I like the sound of that, that means you're planning to stick around." He gives me a chaste kiss on the lips. "As for your other plan, we may have a problem." Christian contorts his face. "I'm not a huge consumer of junk food so I'm not sure Gail has any around. We can check and whatever I don't have. For you, I will find and have delivered."

I smirk up at him. "See, that's how you throw your obscene wealth and power around. I can get behind junk food intimidation."

"Duly noted."

* * *

The elevator starts its descent, taking the formidable Dr. Greet with it. I was impressed with the woman; she handled what was a very uncomfortable situation with professionalism and grace instilling some much-needed dignity into the process. She reminds me of all the other women that surround me; strong, capable, and oozing with confidence. It's understandable that God had so little left by the time he got to me.

"So, when are you due for your next shot?"

"I didn't go with the shot, I'm staying with the pill."

Christian grips my arm. "I thought we agreed you would change over to the shot," he barks.

Calmly, I peruse his face. "My body, my decision. Remember?"

"But you agreed."

"Correction, you agreed. I stopped engaging with you when you started making demands about my body. I discussed the side effects with Dr. Green, and we made the decision that the pill was the best option for me."

His face twitches, but he releases me. My eyes sweep over his face but doesn't stay. He's at a loss, but I'm savoring the victory as I continue down the hall.

His phone beeps. "Grey," Christian says gruffly.

"Mother. Sorry, I was in the middle of a discussion." It's his mother so I stop to eavesdrop.

"Just so happen, Anastasia is here with me at Escala. Wait a minute Mom. Calm down. Sorry, we won't be able to make it to dinner tonight. We only got here today and Anastasia is tired." I hurry up to him and grab his arm. "Hold on a second mom."

Christian brings the phone down from his ear and puts it on mute. "I want to go. I think it'll be good for us to get out," I whisper.

"What about your bath. Being quiet, being still, eating movie food, and whatever else you wanted," he says.

"Well, I changed my mind. Get over it?" Christian rolls his eyes up to the ceiling.

"Well, mom I guess we will be there after all."

"Thank you," I say

"If these constant flip-flops are indicative of what's to come, perhaps I'm the one who should rethink things.

* * *

Christian opens the door on his R8 for me. "You, love this car," I say when he helps me out.

Carefully, he closes the door. "That, I do."

"I can tell. You're still giddy, like a kid in a candy store."

He drapes his arm over my shoulders. "As much as, I enjoy this car; I can think of something else, I enjoy more." He winks.

"Get your mind out of the gutter Grey." He laughs.

Christian presses the doorbell and it surprises me, I thought he'd just let himself in. It's how it always appeared to me.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Then why the face?" He, says.

"OMG, you're the face police now."

Gretchen is Johnny on the spot, the bell chimes once and she's there interrupting our playful banter. "Mr. Grey." She's chirpy with Christian but gives me the stink eye.

It's obvious that she's just as smitten with him as I'd remembered and Christian is just as uninterested in her. Behind his back, her eyes survey me up and down analyzing every inch of my body. But I get the last laugh; catty, I encircle my arm around Christian's waist when he puts a hand on my lower back.

Christian ushers me through the door, and Mr. Grey approaches just as we enter the foyer. "Son," he booms slapping Christian on the back of his shoulder when he reaches him.

Gently, he pushes me forward. "Dad," he says, taking his father's proffered hand.

A few pumps and Mr. Grey turns his full attention to me. "Anastasia, what a pleasure." He's uncharacteristically enthusiastic.

I conceal my shock. "The same," I say returning his firm handshake.

Christian's eyes pan the expansive foyer. "Dad, where's everyone?"

"Your mother is upstairs putting some last minute touches on her hair. Mia is showing Elliot something out back so they'll be here at any minute."

"Christian, Ana." Dr. Grace calls, practically singing our names the cheer in her voice is so thick. We all turn in the direction of her voice.

Her arms are outstretched. "Mother," Christian says.

"I'm so glad you two were able to make it." She wraps one arm around Christian kissing him on the cheeks. And then she pulls me in with the other. "Oh my darling girl, I'm so thrilled," she whispers as she squeezes me tighter; however, before I can respond Elliot and Mia makes their entrance

"Hey bro," Elliot bellows from the across the room.

"Ana," Mia shrieks at the same time. It's a cacophony of sounds. Dr. Grace politely extricates herself.

"Watch it, Mia," Christian shouts a warning to his sister anticipating one of her enthusiastic greetings.

Rushing across the floor, she hurls herself at me. "Mommy told me the great news. Yeah!" She cheers as she hugs me feverishly rocking me from side to side.

"Mia, let Anastasia go. You're going to hurt her."

"Ah, come on bro, she's not made of glass." Elliot jokes, prying me from Mia's embrace only to take me into a bear hug simply to annoy his brother. "Right, Pup Squeak?" Elliot beams. "I knew he would come to his senses," he whispers in my ear.

"Thank you. Now, what about you and Kate?"

Christian taps Elliot on the shoulder rescuing him. "Hey, stop trying to hit on my girl," he says.

Elliot unfurls his arms and they fist pump. "I'm not hitting on her, I'm just telling her the truth- she's with the wrong Grey man." Elliot teases.

Christian lips quirk up. "But dad's married to mom," he quips.

Elliot lets out a booming laugh. "Jokes, huh? Good one. She's changed you for the better already."

"Okay, you two knock it off. Elliot, take your sister in the next room, we'll be in there shortly. Your father and I would like to have a few minutes alone with Ana and Christian. Gretchen should already have the room set up with hor'd oeuvres."

"Okay." Mia acquiesces quickly, Elliot is a bit more reticent, but he doesn't put up a fight.

Stepping out of earshot of his parents, he mumbles, "good luck," to us as he escorts his sister from the foyer.

Our hands entwine and we follow his parents down the hall. I lean into him. "Is it me or does it feel like we're going to the principal's office," I whisper.

Christian tilts his head down. "As long as we don't go to dad's office, we're good." Just as he says the words, we pass the library. "We're fucked." He says deadpan and I grin.

We enter the office, the elder Greys sit on the small sofa, while Christian and I sit in the two side chairs adjacent to it. Our seats are separated by a small table, Christian will have to maneuver some if he wants to touch me. At least, the lamp is sitting low to the table so our view of each other won't be obstructed.

Reaching in front of the table, Christian gives my knee a reassuring nudge. I nod to him that I'm okay, as we sit through the painful silence waiting for one of his parents to speak. Finally, Dr. Grace gets the conversation started, as Christian's father crosses and uncrosses his legs.

"No problem mother, thank you and dad for having us."

"Well, since you were both going to be here, your father and I thought this would be as good a time as any to have this discussion," Dr. Grace says before Mr. Grey jumps in and commandeers the floor.

"Anastasia, what my wife is trying to say is that we'd like to apologize to you."

"To me," I shriek."

"Yes." Dr. Grace confirms. Christian pulls his hand back. "Christian told me about the baby and I discussed it with Carrick. To be honest, we struggled with the information and what to do with it." Her gaze goes directly to her son and I follow the laser beam she's firing his way. His lips are in a firm line.

My eyes stay on him and once I pull his attention away from his mother, I flash Christian a warm smile. And I'm relieved when he responds in kind. So, the smile doesn't reach his eyes but I'm satisfied anyway. Then, I turn to his parents. "Thank you both, I appreciate the gesture, but you don't have anything to apologize to me for."

"I beg to differ. After the way our son treated you, we felt it was our duty." Mr. Grey says, and Christian slaps his hand down on the table. The lamp wobbles, but doesn't tip over.

"What the fuck!"

"Christian. Watch your language." His mother admonishes.

"Sorry Mom but Dad what goes on between Anastasia and me has no part in this conversation. If you and mom want to apologize, fine. I mishandled the situation with the baby. Everything else with Anastasia and me is not up for a public debate," Christian says and he glares at his mother. He's surprised me for the second time tonight. "Gee mom, what did you tell him?"

"The truth," she responds. "That we had a grandchild that died, that we knew nothing about. That we were denied the right to properly, Grieve said child." She sniffs. Christian shrinks into his chair and running his hands over his head he pins his hair back. It's obvious his mother's words have affected him significantly.

"Dr. Grace and Mr. Grey, you've apologized to me now let me apologize to you. This isn't all on Christian. I share some of the blame. I could've told you, but I didn't and for that I'm sorry," I say. I'm not merely speaking for me, I'm speaking on behalf of the lost little boy next to me, who's not comfortable enough with his own emotions, to share his pain with his parents.

"Ana, that is very noble of you and we will take it in the spirit in which it was given. But I lay the lion share of this at my son's feet," Mr. Grey says.

Christian's harsh breathing, threatens to consume the relatively small space. "Dad, I am profoundly sorry for the pain I caused you and mom. But in case you've left the present, let me remind you. I'm not a teenager that you can reprimand, send up to his room, and not talk to for days." Christian barks.

"Then you shouldn't have acted like one. For God sake Christian you're a grown man, one of the most successful businessmen in the world and you can't protect yourself. I taught you and your brother how to put on a condom; as soon as, you entered high school," Mr. Grey snarls and it's apparent that the heated exchange between father and son is about more than my miscarriage; it hints at an unresolved rift in their relationship. One glimpse at Dr. Grace, confirms that I'm right.

"Dad, I'll let you have that one, but back off," Christian snarls. Turning to him, I try to work my magic again. While Dr. Grace works on Mr. Grey.

Confident that Christian has been contained, I take matters into my own hands. "Emotions are high for good reasons. We lied. It wasn't our intention. We were planning to tell you, but sadly we never got the chance I had the miscarriage. And that changed everything, for the worse. Yes, you lost a grandchild, Elliot and Mia a niece or nephew. But Christian and I suffered the greatest lost- we lost our baby and that will forever be our truth. So, we need to heal together, privately and at our own pace. As much as, I appreciate your empathy and the apology. We bear this cross alone, it's not about communal grief." I rotate my head and my eyes meet Christian's proud gaze.

He mouths, "Thank you that was perfect." This times when he smiles it genuine- it's so broad it reaches my eyes.

Dr. Grace is beaming too. "Well said, Ana. I think we can move on," she says. Straightening her back, she's sitting up a little taller. "Let's talk about something happier, you and Christian."

"Thank fuck," Christian says under his breath, still his mother hears, but says nothing.

"Son, I was hoping to have this discussion in private, but since your mother brought up the topic I guess we can have it now," Mr. Grey says.

Christian lets out an audible sigh. "What now dad."

"Anastasia, don't take this the wrong way…" Christian interrupts him.

"Well, dad when you start a sentence with that phrasing, how else is she supposed to take it?" Christian says sardonically.

"Sweetheart let your father finish," Dr. Grace says, and then she turns to her husband. "Carrick, tread lightly. Very lightly, you're on a short leash." She warns.

Mr. Grey's eyes roam her face and then he stares at me. "Ana you're so young. I need to know if you're prepared for a relationship with my son."

I zone in on Christian urging him to stay quiet. "Mr. Grey, I am 18 and I will be graduating from college in a few months."

"My point exactly – 18. Ana, I'm not going to sugar coat it. The almost 10 year age difference on its own wouldn't merit a second thought. But Ana you're a teenager and Christian you're a grown man, so some people will view the difference as morally reprehensible. Others will go as far as considering Christian a criminal."

Christian leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. "Dad, do you think I give a flying fuck what people think…"

"Christian Trevelyan Grey, your language please," Dr. Grace chides. This time, I shrink back trying to blend in with the upholstery; on this issue I'm a hypocrite, considering my actions.

"Sorry, mom. Dad, don't you think I took Anastasia's age into consideration, I even talked it over with Mom."

"Alright Christian, what happens when the press gets a hold of your news and starts digging? They're going to want to know everything about the woman who snagged the most eligible bachelor in the United States. Yes, Ana is 18 now, but based on my calculation she was 17 when you two were first together and that Christian reeks of a scandal to me," Mr. Grey says.

"Dad, I understand where you're coming from. Your point of view is from a business perspective. I've been there, its part of the reason I fumbled the situation with Anastasia's pregnancy so horribly wrong. I'm well aware that some people will view our relationship as taboo. That it will be fodder for the press, and professionally it could be costly for me. I weighed all the risks, and Anastasia won out. I love her." I catch a glimpse of Dr. Grace's face and she's smiling like a proud mother while Mr. Grey's jaws are clenched so tight, I'm afraid he'll crush his teeth.

But he manages to pry them open and fire back. "I get it. Ana is a wonderful young woman, every member of this family feels the same way about her as you do. But I'm not just talking chronologically, I'm thinking maturity wise too."

"Carrick, what are you getting at, I think Christian has been very clear about his feelings. Let them be. You said it yourself, the press is going to hound them. Then let's make this a safe haven for the kids."

"Grace I want too, but I want Ana to understand what's she's walking into since you and Christian are content with washing over it."

"Really dad. I'm not that negligent before we came here, Anastasia and I were discussing the role security plays in my life."

"He's right Mr. Grey, Christian has been very upfront with me. I'm the one that's been fighting him on the issue," I say.

"Ana, Christian is a very public figure and his private life is for public consumption. So, are you going to be able to withstand the shitload of press that will follow your every move, dissect every morsel of your past, and debate endlessly about why you."

"Yes," I say adamantly when my insides are quaking.

"I'm sorry, but I'm confused, are you two championing our relationship or trying to derail it?" Christian says.

"Sweetheart you know where I stand. My two favorite people are getting together, I'm elated. But speaking as a mother of a daughter, and a woman, I was hoping Ana had resisted a little more. You'd done her wrong and it was what you deserved. "

Christian chuckles. "Wow, thanks, mom. Whose side are you on?"

"Yours, I'm your mother, but I want what's best for the both of you. And I think you should've taken more time to heal together, before getting back together so quickly," Dr. Grace says and Christian Jumps to his feet.

"On that note, baby we better get out of here while we can." He extends a hand to me.

"Not so fast. Ana, do you mind staying behind? I'd like to have some girl talk."

Mr. Grey rises up from the sofa and walks over to Christian resting his hand on his shoulder. "Come on son, I'll walk you out, it'll give me a chance to apologize. And then we can get a stiff drink."

Christian and his father clear the doorway, and Dr. Grace pats the sofa for me to join her. After admiring it from afar, I take the opportunity to study it close up. "I like your sofa," I say, as my palm glides over it luxuriating in the softness, suppleness of the leather. "

Dr. Grace's eyes fall on my hand, and she mimics my movements. "Thank you. It's actually not a sofa, the fancy name for it is a settee because it's smaller. Typically, they're made to hold no more than 2 people," she says and I blush.

"You're so knowledgeable." Picking up her hand she waves me off.

"Nonsense. Don't be embarrassed, I never knew such a thing existed until I picked it out. Carrick is partial to leather but I find it to be garish as upholstery so this is my comprise. It maybe his office, but it's in my home."

"You two, have been married a long time, how do you make it work with him. Like his son, he seems to be a strong willed man. So, how have you kept a sense of self?"

"I get the question often, and always I tell the young women and some older ones the same thing. The key is maintaining a separate identity. I think that's why our marriage has been successful, I've kept my independent spirit. I built my career, I didn't let myself be defined by Carrick. He didn't complete me, and I don't complete him, we're more of an extension of each other."

In my lap, I fidget with my hands. "I know I didn't handle things with Christian, to your liking. I'm sure I set the women's movement back 3 decades."

"Don't be ridiculous, we reinvent ourselves ever so often anyway. Perhaps you're the new face and I'm the one lagging behind. The new breed of woman, that's strong enough to be vulnerable with the confidence to let it show."

I snort. "I doubt it."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. Ana, you're still so young; who you are today is going to be different from who you are tomorrow. And 10 years from now, you won't even remember. So, make your mistakes and learn from them." She pats me on the face. "The whole punishment thing for me, was more about allowing you both the space to breathe."

"Thank you for clarifying. So, what's the story with Mr. Grey? It seems like he was using my miscarriage as an excuse to go after Christian."

Sighing, she rests her arm on the back of the sofa, I mean settee. "It's silly really, it goes back to Christian's time at Harvard. Carrick has never forgiven him for dropping out and whenever Christian does something blatantly stupid passive aggressively his father gets his pound of flesh."

I roll my eyes. "Tonight he gorged, so he should let it rest."

"I agree," she says, and she becomes more reflective. "Thank you for coming to Christian's defense, it meant a lot to me and I'm sure it meant a lot to him. God gave Christian every talent and good attribute he had, then a devil on earth got a hold of him and tinkered with his work. So, Christian is perfection hiding a lot of imperfection and that's what makes him complex and complicated. Which equates to difficult to handle. But don't let the exterior fool you, be gentle with him. It's what Carrick was hinting at when he pushed so hard. He loves his son, he doesn't always say it in a greeting card kind of way."

"I've seen Christian's many sides," absentmindedly, I say.

"I bet you have, is that why you have trepidation?"

I get defensive. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Ana, Christian was beaming, and you wilted except when you acted like a tigress coming to his aid. Which by the way, went a long way in proving to my husband, that you are more than up to the challenge." She gives a wink.

"I didn't realize, I came across as lackluster, I'm just tired.

Dr. Grace smoothes hair off my face. "Sweetheart, I can tell the difference between tiredness and wariness. And you're wary?" she says.

Sticking a hand in my hair, I run it through grabbing a handful. "Dr. Grace you're going have to help me out here, I don't know what you want me to say."

I move my hand and she takes it along with the other in hers. "Then listen and let me talk. I'm comfortable with you, so I'm just going to come out with it. Christian didn't show up to brunch after the Gala, and if memory serves me right, you were crestfallen. I didn't put the two things together until recently." I jerk my hands from hers.

"Dr. Grace, I think I know where you're going with this, but please don't go down that road. Everything is out that needs to be so let it be."

"I can't, I'm a mother to a daughter and I would never want a man treating Mia the way my son treated you." She takes one of my hands back. "I'm not going to push you on it, but I know."

With my free hand, I wipe my nose. "I can't believe Christian, would tell you." My voice cracks.

"He didn't. This is about you and I wanted you to know that I'm here when you're ready to talk."

She sticks a box of Kleenex in front of my face and I pluck a few sheets. "Thank you," I say and Dr. Grace takes a couple herself. We both dab our eyes. "I appreciate the offer, but it's too weird. You're his mother."

She crumples the used tissues in her hand. "That, I am and at one time I wanted to be yours…" I jump in.

"Ewe. Dr. Gray, I know you mean well, but you just made things icky."

She snickers. "Okay, I'll drop it."

"Is that why you wanted to talk to me?"

"Yes, and I wanted some honest answers. In case you haven't noticed, this emotional stuff is new for my son, and he's not exactly forthcoming." She laughs.

"Are you trying to find out if I love him?"

"No." She snorts, "That would be too presumptuous of me and put me in the noisy mother category. Plus it's private until you're ready to share."

"Well, thank you for being respectful of our relationship."

"Always. But there is one thing I think you should know is how fortunate you are to have his love. Christian doesn't love easily, but he loves freely. I'm thankful that you're the vessel, God has chosen to receive it.

This time, I take her hand in mine. "You don't have to thank me anymore. I've lost count the number of times thank you has been uttered in this room tonight so let's call it a truce."

"Deal. One more thing before we join the rest. Love for Christian was hard to come by but it's the everlasting kind. It's not fleeting," she says and right then the bible verse Luke taught me pops into my head, 1 Corinthians13:4-7. Reciting the verse, in my head I get lost and I don't see Dr. Grace's proffered hand.

"Sorry," I say and I let her pull me up.

Our conjoined hands swing between us like school girls as we walk the corridor to the dining room. Pulling on my hand, Dr. Grace gets my attention. "One more thing. Christian is a force of nature, he occupies space, make sure to carve out a little niche for you," she says.

* * *

When I exit the bathroom Christian is already in bed, the room lit only by the lamp on his bedside table. Lounging, an arm is propping up his head and his feet are perched on the pulled down covers. He's staring languidly into the distance. Every breath he takes is reflected in his bare chest. From where I stand, strangely, he's the epitome of a Norman Rockwell painting if the artist explored the erotic side of Americana.

Creeping, I climb up on the bed and crawling to him the mattress gives slightly. It alerts him and he turns his head. "Hey you," he murmurs.

I pout. "Not fair, I was trying to sneak up on you."

He smiles. "Not possible. I feel you before I see you." He yanks me to him.

Falling in his lap, giggling I stare up at him. "Then why didn't you say something sooner?"

He helps me up. "I like making you think you're in control."

I give him a swift elbow to the chest and glancing down, I see the cluster of tiny circles on his otherwise perfect chest come into focus. My gaze comes back up to meet his eyes and they are warning me so I take head. I ignore the question that is bubbling up, and go with my prepared witty comeback. "I don't think I am in control, I know I'm in control. How about that?"

Christian chuckles. "I'd have to say you're right." He kisses me on my forehead and sliding down his chest I fall against him and Christian let's his arm collapse over my shoulders.

"On a serious note, what were you thinking about?"

"You."

"Me?"

He tilts his head down. "Yes, how lucky I am."

I snort. "Too bad you're father doesn't agree."

He squeezes my arm. "My dad is an asshole." Christian growls.

I snuggle against him. "You know him better than I do, but in all fairness, you're mother voiced some concerns too. And I can say with certainty that she is not," I say.

"No, she most definitely is not. So, are you going to tell me what you talked about?"

"Nothing much, just how great you are."

"Yeah, right. I'm not that gullible. I get it you don't want to talk about it."

"No, I don't. I've had enough talk about your parents for one night."

"I can second that, but you showed my dad when you came to my defense. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Though, we were ambushed, I'm still glad we went. It was good catching up with everyone and the night ended on a positive note."

"You're right it did."

My eyes roll up at him. "Is that your honest opinion or are you placating me."

He wraps his other arm around me. "You don't miss a thing."

"Well, I have to be alert to keep up with you," I smirk.

"You're more than capable of keeping up with me. My father underestimates you."

"I don't know," I huff.

He runs his thumb along my arm. "What's on your mind, Anastasia? You're thinking about something I can tell by the change in your breathing pattern."

"Do you think they have a point?" I murmur against his chest.

Christian sighs. "What point, the same points we've been arguing about since I showed up at your apartment. Baby, dad, didn't tell us anything new, he just worded it differently. Anastasia, I didn't enter into this likely."

"You didn't but I did." I finally, voice what's been bothering me all day.

Removing his arm, Christian sits forward bringing me with him. He stares into my eyes. "I pride myself in being in control, even when I'm exhibiting extreme behaviors I'm in control. Yet with you, over and over I mismanage things." He flips my hair over my shoulders. "I want to talk to you about last night." I stand up on my knees before settling down on the back of my heels. "I want to apologize, I behaved badly," he says.

"You're too generous Christian. You more than behave badly, you were vicious. You were cruel, hurtful, degrading, and mean-spirited."

"Don't hold back."

"I'm not being funny Christian, I'm very serious. This time, around you, treated me worse than a whore; the first time, at least, you had the decency to pull out."

Christian flinches. "Ouch, that hurts."

"Really, try being on the receiving end."

He holds my gaze. "If us being together is predicated on who I am then you'll have to decide if there's enough good in me to outweigh all the bad in me. Until you make that determination, no amount of begging is going to sway you. And let's be clear I am prepared to beg. You're that important to me. But under no uncertain terms will I be jerked around so you're going have to make up your mind and live with the consequences."

I maintain his laser-like focus. "The same for you Christian." I pause. "The same goes for you. I'm afraid to broach this subject for fear of retaliation."

"Pull back the band-aid, just say it, Anastasia."

"You were not the only one."

Steam is coming from every pore of his body. "I fucking know this. The question is was he?"

"Yes," I say.

"I'm a jealous man Anastasia," he growls.

"I know." I wipe my nose. "Christian, if I had known that a relationship with you was a possibility I would have waited for you until the end of time."

He presses his hand to the side of my face and I melt. "I was proud to be your first, but I ached to be your last," he murmurs.

I cling to his wrist holding his hand in place. "As chauvinist as that sounds, I can't dismiss its importance to you, and that's why you have a decision make too. Can you be with me knowing, as crassly as you put it that another man has been where you've been- inside me?" His hand jerks, knocking mine out of the way." My chin quivers, but I stay the course. "Either you decide or I will make the decision for you. Because Christian, I won't go through another one of your jealous tirades. The choice is yours and you have to live with your consequences."

"The way I see it I have to lose to win. There's no choice, the alternative is too dire. I've tried it and I'm no good when you're not around." My phone beeps. "You might want to check it. Someone is really trying to reach you. It went off a few times when you were in the bathroom."

I lay collapse down on him. "They can wait."

"I love you," he says.

There's a pregnant pause. "I love you too."

Christian smirks. "Baby, you say it like you're under duress."

I change the subject. "Why did I have to hear at dinner, that you're keeping me here all week?"

"I thought it was understood."

"How? When you never told me. Besides, I didn't tell Mr. Taylor to pack me enough clothes."

"Anastasia Mr. Taylor," he says mockingly, "works for me and follows my instructions. He packed your suitcase to my specification, so don't worry about it."

"Will I ever get used to your heavy handedness?"

"Probably not," he says pulling me in tighter smelling my hair. "Thank you for agreeing to color your hair."

"Christian, in the big scheme of things, my hair color is the least of our problems. I'm going to sweat the small stuff."

"I like this new you."

The light smattering of hair on his chest tickles my nose as I get drunk on his intoxicating scent. It infuses me with some much-needed courage. "I'm struggling because I don't want to be in love with you." Staring at the dark, I'm mesmerized by the rain dotting the bank of Windows. "But then I see you and I get butterflies. And I can't walk away," I murmur against his chest. He's mum, and reaching down Christian pulls the covers up over us. Then he moves on to the lights, plunging the room into darkness which makes the droplets of water on the windows stand out. Eerily, they reflect my mood.

He kisses me on the top of my head. "Let's get some sleep, we have a long day ahead us tomorrow ."

"Christian, did you hear me?"

"Yes," he whispers.

"Please say something."

He gives me another kiss on the top of my head. "Would you like for us to go to couple's therapy? I could arrange it with John."

"No. Thank you though. I have a therapist. I'd like to keep something for myself.

Turning on his side, he forces me to my side. My back to his front, Christin throws his arm over my waist. "Okay, you can have anything you want." He pulls my back close to his front, pressing his expanding penis into my lower back. Staring into the darkness, I stay stock still, trying not to twitch. If I rub against him, his erection will grow and he will want to have sex.

I rest a hand on his. "Thank you."

He rubs his nose in my hair. "You can relax Anastasia. I'm not fucking you again until I've shown you everything." Christian whispers in my hair.

My body uncoils, and in no time, Christian is fast asleep. As I lay comfortably in his arms, I can't get my mind off my phone. So carefully peeling his arm back, I slip from underneath him. And then stretching my arm as far as it will go, after 3 attempts, I manage to pluck the phone from the bedside table. When I have it in my hand, I peek behind me to verify that Christian is still asleep. Then shaking, my fingers as fast as fast as they can unlock the phone, scrolls and locates the texts.

**Want U 2 know Benji, not Kennel- 4 him sacrifice 5 star hotel star motel :)**

**In the end it was all 4 U- so sleep tight**

**Just wanted to say goodnight**

**Tell him you want 2 go 4 a run Mon**

His messages read, I can finally go to sleep. So, I slip Christian's arm back over me. "You give me butterflies too," he murmurs in my hair.

* * *

**Flashback**

The door opens and Mom is standing there like she'd been waiting for me. "Hi," I say like a depressed teenager.

She stands aside. "Hi Christian," Grace says as I walk past her to gain entry into the warm house. I never appreciate how inviting mom has made this grand mansion until I'm in need. "Want to talk about it?" The door slams. "The last time you were this bewildered was after the Coping Together Gala when a particular little girl with a mass of big brown curls and blue doe eyes the size of saucers wormed her way into your heart." Now, standing in front of me our eyes meet in a quick exchange.

"How perceptive." Mom extends her hand, her subtle way of asking for my windbreaker.

"Well mothers are nothing if not perceptive and I'd picked up on the tension. Then the argument I overheard sealed it?" She's says hanging my jacket up.

"It's quiet. Where's everyone?"

"Mia is out with her friends and Carrick had to go to the office."

"Did you hear from Elliot?"

"Stop stalling Christian and tell me what's wrong." I throw my head back and my mother touches me on the arm. "That bad huh?"

I bring my head forward. "Yep."

She wraps her arm around my waist and I drape my arm over her able shoulders. "Since you skipped out on breakfast, come have some tea with me."

We make it to the kitchen and she releases me. I go to the small eat-in table. "I'll need something stronger than tea," I say as mom starts opening cabinets.

"I'll make coffee for you then and tea for me."

"Dr. Grey," Gretchen says, breaking her momentum.

"Yes, Gretchen."

"Do you need some help, I was about to leave, but I can stay." Through her lashes, Gretchen peeks up at me when she makes the offer.

"No, Gretchen. Thank you but I have this. It's just Christian and me."

Her head bows slightly. "Yes, ma'am. 7."

" 8:00 is fine," Mom says and quietly she leaves.

Finally, we're alone and Grace loads a tray with her tea and my coffee. Gracefully, she carries it across the kitchen setting a steaming mug in front of me before walking to her side of the table and put her cup down.

Taking her seat, Mom sips her tea, while I fidget with my mug's handle. "Christian, are you going to talk, or entertain yourself with the damn cup?"

I stare at my coffee like the answer is at the bottom. And then I lift my head meeting mother's concern but comforting eyes. "What do you think about Anastasia?"

"Are you serious, I adore Ana?"

I flick my fingers against the porcelain and it clinks. "What would you say, if I told you I more than adore her?"

She sputters."I'd say it makes sense," she says, and unlike ladylike and so unlike my mother she cleans her mouth with the back of her hand.

Leaning back in my chair, I study her face. "Why."

"Around her, you behave like a schoolboy. You find out she's going to be somewhere, you say you won't be only to show up later. You're charming one minute, cold and distance the next, and finally, there's always some tension. Classic, boy, likes girl and doesn't want to admit it." She stares at me as if to say you've been served.

I drape my arm over the back of the chair. "Smart aleck, but I guess I'm here because you're smart so what do I do now."

"Talk to her."

"What if she won't talk to me?"

"That's silly, why wouldn't she talk to you? I know you two argued."

"Mom, there's something I need to tell you and I need you to not hate me."

"Christian, you're scaring me. I could never hate you, you're my heart."

I rest my arms on the table and reach for her hands. "Love me?" I say and dumbfounded, mom lays her hands in my palms. "I was the father of Anastasia's baby."

My hands close over hers. "I don't understand," mom simpers and conflicted, I let the tears slowly trickle down her face.

I rub my thumbs over the back of her small soft hands. "I think you do."

"If you were the father, then she lost my grand…" Mom jerks her hands from mine, "grandbaby. How could you Christian."

"I'm sorry mom."

She grabs a napkin from the tray and dabs her eyes. "Sorry! You lied to my face. You let me cry for some nameless child, instead of properly mourning my own grandchild."

"I wanted to tell you."

"What about Ana?"

"She wanted to tell you too."

She pounds her fists on the table, and the cups lift slightly. My eyes are fixed on them, but none of the hot liquids spill. "No Christian!" I flinch, her raised voice pulls me from my state of mindlessness. "It was my understanding that she was alone through all of this. What about her and all that she went through. Alone."

"I'd be lying if I said I knew. Our conversations haven't exactly been civil."

"Do you blame her?"

"No," I say.

"When?"

"When, what?"

"Don't be obtuse Christian. When did you impregnate her, can you even narrow down the day?"

I rub my hand over my head. "You think so little of me."

"That's not a question you want to ask me right at this moment."

"It was one time, that's all I will divulge. Anything else would be an invasion of Anastasia's privacy. Besides, it's a moot point." My tone is expressionless.

"I'm not asking for a play by play Christian, I want the day. The month?"

"The night of the Coping Together Gala."

Mom slaps the heel of her palm against her forehead. "What an idiot. I remember that night. I thought it was odd that inexplicably you'd left with Ana when you'd been cozy with Sam all night. But I didn't think much of it, at the time I chalked it up to you being sweet. Taking her some place quiet to catch up with her, talk about school. But boy was I wrong. She was 17 Christian, just a child!"

I hold her gaze, but I'm in no shape to speak. Her disappointment in me is cutting me to my core; her words are hurting me more than the Crack Whore's pimp burning cigarettes. I could probably gain some understanding from her if I brought up the fraud Anastasia perpetuated on me. But it's not worth the risk, her relationship with Anastasia is too special.

"I guess, you spoke to soon. How do you like me now?"

"Stop with the self-loathing. Stop trying to turn me into her; I'm not your birth mother. I love you unconditionally, but I need to know why." Her voice cracks. "You could have any woman in Seattle, the world even, why an innocent teenage girl? I say innocent because I know she was most likely a virgin. I don't need you to tell me that. I know Ana."

"Do you really want an answer?"

"No." Propping her elbows on top of the table, her hands meld into one fist and she rests her head on it. "Give me a moment, please."

My chair scrapes against the floor. "Would you like for me to leave?"

"I don't want you to go Christian. I just need to be alone. Wait for me in the library."

"Okay."

Her face is hidden from me, but the strain in her voice tells me she's in pain. Hurt by me, again. Standing up, I quietly push the chair under the table. Cupping the back, I wait for a second giving her one last chance to change her mind- beg me to stay. She doesn't. So, I have to resist walking to mom, scooping her up in my arms and begging her to let me. Instead, I do as she asks, I leave her alone. Pausing outside the doorway, I hear every heartbreaking sob I've caused.

The sofa dips, as mom rests one knee down on it. "Sweetheart, remove the shame, hurt, and humiliation from your handsome face and let me see you." I stare up at her and Grace takes my face between her hands. "That wasn't about you, it was about me paying honor to my grandchild. I've suffered miscarriages so I know a little bit about what Ana suffered through." She pauses. "Christian, I may detest your actions, but I will never, ever hate you no matter what you do. I'm your always mother, not just when it's convenient." She smiles. "I had to take a moment to heal my heart, but I'm here for you now. Tell me what you need from me."

My hands encircle her tiny wrists. "You give the best hugs, I could use one."

"Oh, Christian." Our hands fall and collapsing on the sofa next to me mom initiates the embrace.

She lays her head on my shoulder. "I love you, mom," I murmur as, I squeeze her tighter.

"From the moment I'd met Ana, an inner voice whispered to my heart, telling it that she was going to be in my life. Automatically, I jumped to the conclusion of adoption. But it's just now hit me. I'd had it all wrong. Ana wasn't meant for me to adopt. She was never meant for us at all, she was always only meant for you," Mom, whispers and her breath against my skin soothes me.

After a few minute, we separate. "So are saying its fate?"

"Do you love her?"

"That's what I've been trying to figure out."

"Needless to say, you got it backwards. You should've sort through your feelings before sleeping with her. Losing one's virginity, is an important time in a young girl's life and it should be treated as such. And I'll leave it at that. You need to make things right with Ana, before you can think about moving forward."

"To confirm, you're okay with me pursuing her, it wouldn't be awkward for you."

"Sure, it may be at first, but nothing to be concern about. Is that what's been bothering you?"

Stretching my arm behind me, I rub on the back of my neck. "That among a myriad of other issues, her age primary among them."

"Sweetheart, that's your problem you're stuck inside your head. Love doesn't reside in the brain, loves lives in the heart."

"Love." I huff. "You keep talking about love. I'm a CEO of a multi-billion dollar company, I can make grown men crumble with one word, there's no way I can be in love. Especially with someone so young."

Mom smirks and a sly grin crosses her face. "You've run into a force stronger than you. It can bring the most powerful man to his knees." She gives me a wink and a nod. "Son, the heart does what it wants, you're not in control. That's why you can't find any peace, you're trying to make it fit in your defined parameters."

"I'm not very religious and I don't believe in luck. I'm got to be where I am because I'm the master of my universe. I control my own destiny."

She pats me on the face. "Well, Mr. Master of the Universe, you've just meant your kryptonite."

"You think so." She nods her head.

"Christian, I don't care what you say, you have to admit that something is at play for you and Ana to be put in a position where a relationship is a possibility."

"Touché. So you're on board."

"You keep asking. I'm not sure you want my permission or approval, but the answer is yes to both. Do I wish you would've fallen for someone a little older, more mature? Certainly, because Christian the world you inhabit would be a lot for a woman far wiser than Ana. I worry about how someone as naïve as she is will fit it into it. But at the end of the day, her age doesn't matter, the only thing that does is how she loves you. Because you my dear deserves to be loved; reverently, with all someone's heart, and without conditions." She sighs. "Christian what I say doesn't matter, you can't run. People have it backwards, we don't find love, and true love finds us. And when it does it won't let go-that's why it's true love."

"So, what do I do now?"

"I think you already know, I don't need to co-sign. I just hope it includes lots of begging. And Christian you need to be patient. You were in the wrong and you need to give her time to forgive you."

"Yeah, about that. I made my task a little harder."

"Oh?"

"Mom, believe it or not, I did something more unbelievably stupid just today."

* * *

**Luke POV**

Letting go of Benji's leash, I follow him into the small dark, dated hotel room. Flipping on the light only highlights the quandary I've landed into. The girl I came back for is with the man that brought back. And if he were any other man, I'd like my chances, but Christian Grey is a formidable advisory.

"Fuck!" I swipe my arm across the counter and everything in my wake comes crashing to the floor; the coffee pot lands with a thud as the carafe shatters into chunks of glass at my feet."


	39. Chapter 39: One Last Night

**Chapter 39**: One last night

**Disclaimer: FSOG Belongs to EL James**

**A/N: **Thank you for reading, following, and reviewing - please enjoy ignore all errors will never get it perfect

The Mile High Club is more elegant restaurant than the posh nightclub, the name conjures. It has a spectacular view of the city, and helping to ward off the chill on cold nights are two fireplaces strategically positioned at either end of the dining room. The decor consists of high-end chrome finishes, glass enclosures, and leather seating with luxurious fabric and warm wood peppering the space to soften the hard lines and bring in an air of sophistication.

My eyes continue to wander and they spy a single table draped in ivory standing out in the cloud of white. From where I stand, it is set with a plethora of silverware, stems, and plates; as if, prepared for a state dinner then a romantic one for two. Roaming some more my eyes land on him. All debonair, Christian is standing in front of the bar, a hand shoved seductively inside the pocket of his trousers and even from this distance, his eyes penetrate my skin. His smoldering stare calling to every part of me and I flash him an equally salacious smile.

His hand comes out of his pocket as he starts towards me, mine skims the railing, as I head towards him carefully navigating the few steps leading down into the dining area in my too high heels. My feet touch the landing and Christian is there. He's in a tuxedo, not simply one of his expensive suits. Downplaying the formality somewhat, he went with a less formal black necktie over the more formal bow tie but what catches my eyes, the most is his tamed hair. It's styled using products for the first time I've seen; slicked back and parted on one side. Dashingly handsome Christian is reminiscent of old Hollywood.

"Miss Steele, you're a fetching sight."

Keeping with his formal tone, I offer him a cheek. "As are you, Mr. Grey."

His head retreats and he gives me an approving nod. "Your hair, it's stunning. Now, I see her. The girl I fell in love with."

I drop the formality and scrunch up my face. "Stunning, eh, too many curls for my taste. But I said nothing, I'm learning. The people you employ, respond to a higher power and it has nothing to do with me even if it's for me." I cut my eyes at him.

His lips twitch. "God," Christian smirks.

"No. Just somebody who thinks he's God." I tilt my chin up at him.

Christian chuckles. "Touché Miss. Steele, I see you're in rare form tonight," he says eying me up and down, "and you're dressed ravishingly for it. The dress fits you like a dream. It's exactly what I wanted for you for tonight."

Glancing down, I pick at the front. "It's very flouncy."

"Flouncy, is too cutesy. Alluring, more accurately describes the way the fabric is floating over the contours of your body. Flowing is probably the word you were searching for?"

Demurely, I smile at him. "Flowing it is then, though, a flouncy frock would've had been less expensive." I jest

He laughs. "Frock? Did you just step out of a Bronte novel?"

I shrug. "Maybe, I do love my British Authors."

"Be that as it may, your frock as you call it, to me is priceless. It's one of a kind."

"As in the designer made only one?"

"As in the designer made only one for you. I had it designed specifically for you."

My jaw drops. "Are serious?"

"Very."

"Christian." I cast my eyes down at the fanciful dress. "It's too much."

"Anastasia, I had a distinct idea of the dress I wanted for you for tonight so I had it designed. I can afford it. When it comes to you, there's no such thing as too much."

I smile warmly at him. "I love it and I love your generosity. Thank you," I say and standing on my tiptoes I give him a light peck on the edge of his jawline and then I lick my thumb rubbing at the lipstick it left behind.

"Leave it, I like being marked by you," Christian says.

I ignore him. "There," I say wiping off the last bit of smudge. "Perhaps, but you are too dapper to have anything marring your perfect face. And speaking of alluring, you are very dashing Mr. Grey from the hair to the tuxedo."

"Does it look like I'm trying too hard? Because I am." In a gentlemanly manner, Christian gestures for my hand and in a prim and proper fashion I flick my wrist presenting it to him and he closes his hand around my fingertips bringing my hand up to his lips where he plants a chaste kiss on the back.

"No. It's just the right touch," I whisper.

Christian gently lowers my hand. "Keep that thought and prepare to be dazzled."

"I own the club…" I gape at him and he ceases talking."

"That's not the dazzling part, that's a fact," He smirks cockily. "But I take it surprises you."

"I'm not sure why but it does," I say.

"Don't overthink it Anastasia. I have lots of money and I own lots of things and this restaurant happens to be one of those things. And just for you, I closed it. I have a special evening planned; we will dine on an 11-course tasting menu prepared by a world renowned chef, we will dance to songs hand-picked by me. I've cast the musical selections in the role of Cyrano de Bergerac, enlisting them to help me woo you. Do what I've failed so miserably to do; convince you of how in love I am with you. Some would say I'm eloquent orator yet with you, I've flubbed every line. So, I'm going to let the music speak for me."

"Christian," I sigh.

"You'll be happy to know, the tattered box…"

I interrupt him. "You mean memory box."

"I stand corrected…memory box. Anyway, the keepsakes gave me the inspiration to use music."

"We're just getting started and I'm already dazzled." Sniffling, I fan my eyes. "Why go to such length?" Christian picks up one of my hands placing it on his shoulder, the other he holds in his hand.

"When I reveal my secret to you, it may be the thing that tips you over the edge. So, if this is the last night I have with you, I wanted to create an evening so magical that if you leave me, it will haunt you for the rest of your life. The memories of it will be so strong you will chase after it like a first high. The way your hand melted into mine when we danced." He holds our conjoined hands up in front of our faces. "My smell, when you laid your head on my shoulder." His eyes go down as if he has the exact spot picked out. "Lastly, the way I tasted when I kissed you for the last time." My eyes close, in anticipation of the demonstration. When it comes, it's not the heated one I'd expected, it's tender. His lips are billowy soft when they touch mine in the feathery kiss. His taste is of grapes, something spicy, and Christian. I want more, but I don't want to seem greedy. "You can open your eyes now."

When my eyes flicker open Christian's demeanor is smug. "I'll never forget that," I whisper, "and what if I don't leave?"

"You'd make me the luckiest man in the world, and the night would be the night I should've given you the first time we were together," he says and the music starts. Frank Sinatra, but I don't recognize the song. "Shall we dance?" Christian asks, and we start moving right where we are not bothering with the empty dance floor.

We glide around the tables as if they were props put there for the sole purpose. I am not a great dancer but Christian is moving with such fluidity and leading me with the musical precision of a maestro that I feel like I am. As Mr. Sinatra sings about witches and their crafts, Christian twirls me and the dress performs on command, spinning with cylindrical force in a whirl of plum chiffon and crepe.

The song ends, and the musical intro for dinner starts. Resting his hand on the small of my back, Christian escorts me to the well-appointed table and a waiter waiting there helps me with my chair.

"Marvin," Christian, says as he takes his seat.

The man nods his head. "Mr. Grey, Sir," he says.

I press my chest against the edge of the table. "I didn't notice him," I whisper.

Christian eyes me speculatively. "That's the point."

Marvin leaves and another waiter approaches, and the parade of waiters continued for a few minutes, I just sat back and marveled at the show.

"What."

"You don't get tired of people calling you sir ad nauseam. I've sat through it for about 5 minutes and I'm over it," I say.

Christian, sips his water. "No. In fact, I can't wait until I have it coming from your lips.'

"Huh," I sigh, "never going to happen Mr. Grey."

"Anastasia, your moxie is going to get you into trouble because you know I will be more than happy to pick up the challenge."

I sip my water and ignore the mischievous glint in his eyes. "Anyway, overlooking their eagerness to please you, I'm impressed. Your staff moved like a well-oiled machine."

"It's their job. The attention to detail I expect," Christian says, but before we can get into a full-blown debate, a very handsome middle age black man, wearing a white chef's coat flanked by two waiters with trays joins us.

"Mr. Grey."

Christian stands. "Chef?" They shake hands. "Please meet my lovey date, Miss Anastasia Steele," Christian says and there's a sudden heaviness in my heart. I'm just his date. He fixes his eyes on me and I manage a tight smile. "Anastasia, meet Chef Marcus Samuelsson."

"It's nice to meet you Chef," I say.

"Marcus is one of the preeminent chefs in the country. He has a restaurant in Harlem, called Red Rooster. But as luck would have it, he's spending time in Seattle and graciously accepted my offer to be a visiting chef here at The Mile High Club," Christian continues.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Anastasia and Mr. Grey you're too kind," Chef Samuelsson says.

"And you're too humble," Christian says.

"Maybe." He laughs and it's infectious. My attitude gets uplifted. "I'd like to go through the menu with you and your lovely guest if you don't mind. First I'd like to confirm that there are no food allergies."

"I have none," Christian says. "Anastasia."

"It's not an allergy, but I really don't like cilantro," I say.

He winks. "I think we can accommodate that," Chef Samuelsson says.

"Thank you," I say.

Chef Samuelsson clasps his hands. "Great. I'm starting you with a small salad consisting of a tower of orange slices, topped with shredded ahi tuna, garnished with arugula and finished off with a drizzle of olive oil. Since I'm from Sweden, many of the dishes will have elements of the sea. But I've also infused the menu with a myriad of flavors marrying the cultures of my three homes, Ethiopia, Sweden, and New York."

"It all sounds delicious chef," Christian says.

Chef Samuelsson takes a step back, and the waiters step forward placing two large porcelain spoons filled with food onto our plates. They then disappear and the Chef steps forward again. "In front of you are two tasting spoons of amuse bouche," he says.

"Amush what?" I blurt out.

Both men smile broadly. "Don't be fooled by the fancy name," Chef Samuelsson says before Christian jumps in.

"It's basically an appetizer you can eat in one bite."

"Think of it this way, the appetizer before the appetizer." The Chef adds before going into an explanation of what's in each. Butter lettuce with stilton and a honey walnut on top drizzled with poppy seed dressing is in one. The other consists of a crostini topped with beluga caviar, crème fresh, and a sliver of scallion. "Enjoy," he says gesturing to the table with his arms opened.

"Thank you Chef," Christian says and he exits stage left just as a nattily attired young woman in a designer suit instead of a uniform like everyone else approaches. She's cradling a bottle in each arm and already I'm finding her perkiness off-putting, I prefer the stilted demeanor of the rest of the staff.

"Mr. Grey," she says setting the bottles down on the table.

"Poppy," Christian says and then he introduces us. Apparently, Poppy is a hotshot Sommelier and she glowed when Christian went on and on about how she's one of only a handful of female Sommeliers in the Country. I'm not familiar with a Sommelier, but I act impressed since Christian is.

She serves or drinks and leaves. "A toast," Christian says lifting up his wine glass and daintily I grab mine by the stem and hold it in the air. "To an evening to remember. I can't wait to see how it unfolds."

"Cheers," I say, and the crystals clink.

We sip our respective drinks. "How's your vignette?" he says.

"Good," I say.

"Good. I had it ordered especially for you," he says, and I roll my eyes to the ceiling. This man is incorrigible.

The classical music fades and my ears perk up when, "Angel," comes to life replacing it. "You remembered." I mouth.

"I never should've forgotten." Scooting his chair back, Christian stands up and saunters around the table to me. Dance with me?" I give him my hand and he jerks me to him. "You smell, divine," he whispers. "Pear, and figs?"

I tilt my head back. "How did you know?"

"It's on your body. It's my business to know."

I bite my lip. "Well, you smell divine too. My nose isn't as keen as yours, but it doesn't matter it smells of you."

Christian touches my chin. "Miss Steele, what are you trying to do to me? You already have my heart," he murmurs, and then he leads me to the dance floor.

We start moving covering one end of the floor to the next. I just lay my head on the spot on his shoulder he'd picked out for me and let him lead me where ever he wanted to take me. I have some questions, but I decide against asking. Instead, I savor dancing with him to our song. We've come full circle and my dream is in the midst of playing out in real life.

The song ends and I stare up at him. "You're rendition is still my favorite."

"I think your bias," he says.

"I think you're right, but that doesn't make it untrue."

"Come," Christian says ushering me back to my seat.

Our second course gets carted away and Christian's next selection fills the space; the sad, forlorn voice of Edith Piaf. I gaze at Christian.

"Non Je Ne Regrette Rien. No regrets." My stare is blank, but Christian reads my mind. His English is perfect, but his French accent is too die for.

"She emotes so much in her music. You can hear the heartache, and sadness in her voice. You played it for me our first night together, I didn't understand the words, but I understood her pain."

"I have a different take. She's reflective but not sad. Edith Piaf lived a turbulent life, this song allowed her to bare her soul so the world would know she was okay with it and had no regrets."

"Are you speaking for Edith Piaf or yourself?"

"Both." His chair grates against the floor and standing up Christian walks to my side. I take his proffered hand. "Dance?" He asks if it's not a foregone conclusion.

As soon as, we're seated the waiter sets down the salmon tartar piled neatly in a petite homemade waffle cone in front of us and like a petulant child I start rearranging my cubes. "Ahem." Audibly, I sigh.

"I've watched you pick at your food long enough. What's wrong Anastasia are you tired?"

"More full than fatigued." The courses are taking their toll on me. I'm beyond full. They might have been small servings, but they were deceptively filling. Christian snaps his fingers and the waiter standing guard rushes to his side. He whispers in the man's ear and he disappears.

I pin him with my gaze. "I just told him to make a request to the chef that he spaces out the remaining courses."

I waggle my brows. "You. Make a request? I thought you gave orders."

He takes a sip of his wine. "When necessary. Now tell me." He points with his chin. "Honestly, how's your drink?"

I glance at the pale sparkling liquid. "Um. It's different."

"You don't like it? I'll get you something else."

"Slow down, I don't need you to send your jet to Paris and have some peasant girl hand pick fruit to make me a drink. This is perfectly fine. Tasty actually, it's my palate that needs an adjustment; it's used to ginger ale and cranberry juice."

"That won't require a trip to Paris or any peasant girls, we have it here. I'll have Poppy get it for you."

I shake my head. "You don't have to, but your eyes tell me you will." I say and then I hear the first strains of, "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face", and my heart swells.

Our eyes lock in mutual adoration. "Dance with me," Christian whispers.

The song ends, and burying my face in his chest, I stay still in his arms. "It was so tender." I snivel. "I listened to it once on YouTube, but it didn't have the same emotional effect on me."

"I share your sentiments, it's always been a favorite song of mine, but has taken on new meaning for me of late," tilting his head down Christian locks eyes with me. "I'm in love."

"You didn't need to do all of this," I murmur

"I didn't need to, I wanted too. Going to that photoshoot was the best decision I've ever made. One turn and my whole world turned upside down. It was like setting my eyes on you for the first time and from that moment forward, I'd been changed."

Hanging onto to his forearms, I lean back and gaze up at him. "I was all grown up, it kinda was."

He's done it so often, Christian automatically wipes at my eyes. But the tears have dried up. "Ready for the next course?"

I grimace. "Not really. Don't get me wrong each dish was as delicious as the next, but I'm stuffed."

His hand presses on my back. "We're half way there, you can make it."

"I can count you know, we're not close to halfway."

The next course was actually a palate cleanser of lemon sorbet. I didn't ask and didn't care, but Christian launched into one of his hoity-toity explanations. I was merely relieved that it wasn't a food dish. My stomach was full and exhaustion was toying with me. Who knew fine dining could be so tiring from trying to recall FORK to discerning the difference between soups and consume. It was quite daunting.

"That was refreshing," Christian says interrupting my idle thoughts.

"Very," I say

In preparation for our next dance, Christian stands as a very familiar popular tune erupts. I press the shell of my ear forward, to make sure I'm hearing it correctly. "You. Christina Perri?"

A shy smile crosses his face. "It's Mia's favorite's song. When the Twilight Saga came out she killed us with it, she played it so often. Then recently I was visiting my parents, and 'A Thousand Years' was playing. Because I was melancholy about you, for the first time I heard the lyrics, and understood the depth of Edward's and Bella's love."

I shove on his shoulder. "Now, you're being funny."

He feigns hurt. "I was." He chuckles. "It's not a song that will go down as my all-time favorite or survive on any list for very long. But I can't deny the heart-stopping lyrics of how much in love someone is with somebody else," Christian says, and making it to the dance floor we get lost in the music. In each other.

We make our way back to the table and; as soon as, Christian takes his seat, the next course is placed in front of us. I've reached my limits, I can't do it. I can't even pretend.

"What's wrong? If you don't like it, I'm sure Chef Samuelsson will gladly make you something…"

I reach across the table and touch his hand. "Stop Christian. Let your staff off the carousel." I smile at him. "Now. You're trying too hard."

"Am I."

"Yes, you are. I understand. We don't know how the night's going to play out. No pun intended, but we've been dancing around what awaits us at Escala. You've succeeded in creating a magical night for me. I feel like a princess. Everything has been superb but it's time," I say.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Unless you're enslaving women and small children in your basement or running a human trafficking ring out of Escala, I think we're good."

Crumpling his napkin, Christian tosses it down on his food and his chair scrapes against the hardwood floor. "It's definitely none of those things," he says, flashing me his panty-dropping smile. I don't lose my panty, but the strings sure get wetter.

* * *

The key suspended at the lock to his playroom, Christian peers back at me. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

His secret has morphed into my suspicion. Since he's most definitely not a gamer, and we're not here for fun, I doubt the room houses XBOXs and such. But I don't want to get ahead of him so I don't let on to what I suspect.

"Open the door, Christian," I implore.

The key turns, the lock disengages, and the door opens confirming my suspicion. It's a dungeon in all its naughty glory. The dark red walls cocoon the space giving it a womb-like feeling, lulling you into believing the myriad of implements lining the walls and filling the room are for your pleasure and not his need to inflict pain on you.

"Say something. You're scaring me," Christian says.

I walk further inside and my eyes pan the space, wandering over every flogger, whip, belt, cuff, cross, and instruments I can't name. Then they lock with his. "You're a Dominant."

Fear drains from Christian's face replacing it with something fierier. "What the fuck do you know about a Dominant? Wait, do not tell me." He booms, but my spine stiffens refusing to let his bellicose nature intimidate me.

I touch him on the arm. "Christian, I'm not going to bicker with you, I will not let you bully me. This isn't my dark reveal. We're not standing in the middle of a dungeon in my apartment so I refuse to let you make me the villain; you need to redirect your frustration."

He scans my face. "You've gotta give me something Anastasia. My mind is racing. What do you know about dungeons and Dominants?"

I clasp his hand in mine and hold his wary gaze. "Alright. You can stop boiling. I was never in the lifestyle but heard about it from my time on the streets and recognize the set up as elements of BDSM. I also know that Dominant is the **D** in the acronym." There's an emptiness in the pit of my stomach and dropping Christian's hand my eyes go to the floor."

"What is it, Anastasia?"

They dart back up at him. "Since, you're a Dominant that must mean you're searching for a Submissive." My voice cracks. "And not a girlfriend."

"What!" Christian wrenches my hand from in front of me. "You've seen enough. Let's get out of here," he says, and we hurry out of the room.

I trip over my feet trailing behind Christian as he sprints to the stairs. "Are you angry at me?" I beseech.

He peeks back. "I'm not angry at you, I just don't get your thinking process."

"Then why are you dragging me?" He slows some.

Back in the living room, he sits me down on the sofa. "Would you like some water?"

"No."

Hiking up the legs of his pants, Christian joins me. Angling his head, he then reaches in front of me and grasping my chin he pries my teeth from the bottom lip I didn't realize I was biting. "I lied. I do have a regret. I yelled at you about your lip biting." His thumb brushes my chin. "It wasn't because I hated it, the exact opposite, it turned me on so fucking much." He leans in to kiss me and I turn my head away. Touching the side of my jaw, he draws my face back to him. "Don't deny me."

"I'm not denying you Christian. I just want an answer," I whisper.

He switches seat from the sofa to the ottoman in front of me. "First of all, it's not a dungeon. It's a playroom."

Audibly, I sigh. "Really, Christian." I roll my eyes. "Tomatoes, tomatoes. Dungeon, playroom who cares it's all the same. On the other hand, a sex slave and a girlfriend are two different things entirely. So, which is it?" My heartbreaks, waiting for his response.

Exasperated, he glowers at me. "A Submissive isn't a sex slave."

Now, I'm exasperated. "Really!" I rake my hand through the curls.

"I've been a part of the BDSM lifestyle on and off since I was 15. But after leaving Harvard, I immersed myself in it fully. It was a way for me to maintain control and at the same time, it allowed me to have the similes of a relationship with women. The boundaries were well defined. I had a contract; everything was documented in black and white, there were no shades of gray. It was under my terms. Everyone knew their roles, likes, and dislikes, and, it made for a satisfying albeit cold existence." His expression softens. "However, it pales in comparison to what I want with you."

I sniffle. "I need to hear you say the words." My voice is small.

He continues rambling. "While you were building a fantasy world, I was dismantling a nightmare. What you didn't know at the time is, I was a Submissive."

I gasp. "You, a submissive. I can't see it."

"Not now, but then I was young, immature." He sighs. "About your age I guess; too bad I wasn't as confident."

My eyes flutter. "Please, I'm not confident Christian. You know that. I'm scared all the time. I'm afraid right now," I say.

"Being scared is better than being angry; you can corral fear. Anger isn't reined in as easily." He smooths away the loose curls dangling in front of my face. "During that period of my life, I was angry to the point of being destructive. BDSM gave me coping skills. A way to channel the rage into something more positive. Being a Submissive gave me the control over my life I needed. Ironic. But it's true. I had to relinquish control to gain it."

"So if you were a Submissive who was your Dominant?"

"Dominatrix, a woman. Elena Lincoln," he says, nonchalantly.

"Elena Lincoln!" My body tenses. Christian touches my hand and I slide it back.

"Anastasia, I need you to keep an open mind. She was the one to introduce me to the lifestyle."

"Open mind, are you serious. You were 15, the woman was old enough to be your mother. In fact, she was your mother's best friend for God sake. Her criminal act was not only a violation of your rights it was a betrayal of her trust. She's nothing but a despicable child molester!"

"Enough!" His veins are protruding from his neck. "Stop being so judgmental. For you the world is divided into two distinctive corners; there's you and the rest of us sinners lumped together. It didn't happen the way you are thinking, in the same way, our relationship didn't happen the way people will judge it. Elena came to me at a time in my life when I needed what she had to offer. I will forever be grateful to her, and will not apologize."

Cold fury courses through me. "The only thing she offered you Christian was lots of deviant sex and as a horny teenager, you ate it up. Figuratively and literally. So, you can stop with the revisionist history."

"Think what you will, but I wouldn't be here without Elena. I would've met a similar fate as my birthmother or worse yet end up in prison."

"Tell that to the man and woman who drilled me last night, somehow I don't think they'd see it in the same way." Sardonically, I say.

"Don't be cute Anastasia."

"Why are you giving her so much credit Christian? What about the people that took you away from that environment; your parents. Where do they fit in with your growth and development?"

"I owe Grace and Carrick a great deal, but I needed more than what they could offer me. It wasn't just sex, Elena taught me to dance, love music, appreciate art..." I break in.

"Great Christian. Did she have the best of you? Do you need more than what I have, because there's nothing I can teach you."

"Anastasia, you still don't get it. What you do to me. How lost I'd been without you."

"If only it were that simple. Your world is so much darker than I'd imagined. In a way I understand you so much more, at the same time, you feel like a stranger to me. So, far removed from that young man that sat on the dock with me and sang to me until I felt safe and cared for. Even if I surrendered to you, I doubt that I'd be enough."

"How can you say that, when I've done nothing for the last 48 hours but beg you? You're exactly what I need. Even more, you're what I want. Has tonight taught you nothing?" Christian grabs my hands. "You're teaching me more than anyone ever has... to love."

I jerk my hands away. "What about Sam?"

"Sam."

"Yes. Sam, who was all over you at the Gala. Sam, who I'm pretty sure, you've slept with this whole time."

"I know who she is, the question is why are you bringing her up?"

"I get why Elena was so nasty to me at the Gala. It was jealousy. Sam, on the other hand, is a bit more perplexing, was she or is she your Submissive?"

"Firstly, I'm monogamous so I do not have a submissive at this time. If I did, I wouldn't be pursuing you. And no Sam was never my Submissive."

To keep my chin from quivering, I lift it slightly. "If she was not a Submissive, who was she to you? Your girlfriend?"

"It's complicated."

"Try me, I'm a pretty smart cookie," I quip.

Christian glowers at me, then averting his gaze he takes a deep breath. "Sort of," comes out of his mouth and I no longer try to suppress my bubbling emotions. I'd suspected it but I wasn't aptly prepared to hear the admission. "Anastasia, please. What I had with Sam doesn't compare to what I want with you. She was simply my attempt at a healthy relationship, but it never evolved into one. In the end, we were just fuck buddies."

I cringe. "Does she know about your proclivity?"

"Yes," he says.

"You gave her the same speech."

"Not quite. I've known Sam for a long time and related to her on some primal level. And at the time it was as close to an emotional connection I'd ever had to anyone outside of my family. But it wasn't real, no one took us serious as a couple, we never acted like one. The media saw her as my cover; since, they swear I'm gay and to my family she was seen as a Business Associate that I was fucking."

"Did Sam love you?"

His eyes pin me to the sofa. "Yes," he says.

I hold his gaze. "Do you make a habit of sleeping with your Business Associates?" I put air quotes around business associates.

"No. I don't Anastasia." He's offended. Internally, I chuckle at his audacity.

"Am I your cover?" I say deadpan

Smugly, Christian smirks. "I think I've more than proven to you that I am not gay. But perhaps you need a reminder. I could throw you across the table, rip the panties I picked for you from that pretty pink pussy and fuck you until you beg for my forgiveness." Reaching up, he touches the side of my face and I incline into his touch. "Instead, I'd much rather make love to you. The only thing I have left to prove is how much in love I am with you."

I throw my arms up pushing his hand out of the way. "I'm not running," I murmur as my arms encircle his neck. Christian peels them back and hopeful eyes search my face.

"You're not?"

My hair swings from side to side as my head moves. "I still have questions, but right now all I want is you."

Christian grasps my face with his hands. "I love you so much, I'm terrified," he says and covering my mouth his tongue curls around mine. He abandons the kiss but keeps his hand on my face. "Let me make love to you."

He's left me breathless. "Okay."

* * *

Christian stops short of his bedroom. "Do you want to freshen up?"

"Sure." Releasing my hand, he opens the door for me.

I flip the light on and the small bathroom I'd stumbled into yesterday is much different today. It's not small at all. Under more favorable conditions, I can appreciate the size. Walking to the mirror, I check my face out. Most of Franco's handy work remains in place. The long-lasting lipstick he'd bragged on faded some, still the stain left behind is more color than I normally wear on my lips so I leave it and move on to the rest of my body. Inspecting the dress in the mirror, I flatten out the wrinkles and give my curls one last fluff. And I'm done.

When I reach Christian's bedroom's door, I come to a halt. The space had been transformed into a romantic boudoir. Lamps are on dimmers, with squares of lace draped over their shades casting an intricate design against the ceiling. The walls. Candles line the perimeter and every free surface giving the room a softer glow. And punctuating the dramatic change is the replacement of Christian's arousing masculine scent, with the more feminine aromas of pear and fig.

But what causes a lump to catch at the base of my throat is the sight of him. He's ditched his white shirt and my eyes devour the hard planes of his chest and the define lines of his well-sculpted abs. But what tempts me most, is the way his tuxedo pants are hanging low on his hips exposing the V pointing to what lies beneath the layers of fabric. Amongst all the enchantment, Christian remains the stand out in the room. The pomade is practically gone from his hair, he's run his hand through it so much; still it hasn't quite reached his level of messiness. Right now it's somewhere in the middle and like the rest of him, it is sinful perfection.

He steps forward and I gulp losing the lump. I'm mesmerized by his bare feet teasing me as he walks. Alone they have the power to make me come. "Are you going to gawk all night or are you coming inside?"

"Cu-mm-ming…" I stutter; and although I caught myself, it gets a rise out of Christian. His eyes are brimming with mischief. "Don't, you dare stare at me in that way, you know what I meant."

His lips quirk up into a sinister smile. "What?" His shoulder lifts and I delight in the slight twitch of his muscles. "I agree with you. You'll be coming. Like a freight train, that is." He smirks and grabbing my hand he hauls me to him.

I careen into his chest. "When did you do all of this?" I murmur.

He releases me. "I didn't, Gail did it when we were at dinner."

"A Ms. Jones. I was beginning to think she was the deep dark secret you were hiding since I have yet to see her."

Christian chuckles. "That's kidnapping, I don't break laws remember." He winks and I roll my eyes at him. "You'll see her soon, she's just as anxious to see you. Unfortunately, she had to stay with her sister overnight and only made back to Escala in time to put the room together."

My eyes adjust and I pore over everything. "She's outdone herself. But Mr. Grey it has your fingerprints on it too."

"I might've given her some suggestions, but made only one requirement – That the space have the smell of you. The rest of it came from her feminine mind." His eyes flash around the room.

"That explain all the candles." I chortle.

Christian rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah," he laughs, "let's hope we don't start a fire." His eyes blaze into mine. "On second thought, let's hope we do."

His eyes trained on me, he lets his hands slide up and down my arms. "Yeah," I say

"You're trembling?"

I sigh. "Just nerves."

"Why. We've done this before, Anastasia."

"But this time, is different. I know who you are-A Dominant. I feel inadequate."

"Anastasia, being a Dominant is something I do and enjoyed immensely, but it is not who I am. And you have no need to feel inadequate, you more than please me. And what you lack in, I will teach you."

My nose wiggles. "Sorry, I just figured out that the fragrance is coming from the candles."

His eyes widen. "Are you allergic?"

"No, so don't overreact and go blowing all of them out."

Relieved, a smile returns to his face. "Good. In Gail's defense, I didn't give her much time; the scented candles were easy and served double duty...providing the fragrance for me and the ambience for her."

I sniff. "I can't believe she captured the essence of my perfume with candles."

"I agree," he says."

"I'll have to ask her where she got them. Good candles are hard to find."

"Is that true? I'm just elated that you approve. I wanted it to be perfect for you. I was selfish, your first time, incapable of putting your needs ahead of mine. I didn't appreciate the gift I was given."

"Gift. What gift?"

Christian's fingers caress the side of my face and instinctively my lids close. "You." My eyes open. "So, I want to rectify it." His thumb glides across the bow of my lips and I'm breathless. "I know sorry isn't sufficient, and I can never give you your virginity back, but let me have this as a redo. Make tonight the first time I should have given to you, your first time."

Tears beckon. "I'm at a loss for words, you've done so much already." With the pad of this thumb, Christian wipes under my right eye then the left.

"Yet, it's still not enough." He twists a curl around his finger. "You don't have to say anything. I don't want to talk. All I want is to take you out of this dress and feast my eyes on what's beneath," Christian says. Pressing the tiny black remote in his hand, he unleashes the melodic sounds of Vault's, "One Last Night".

"I love this song," I whisper.

He stuffs the remote in his pocket. "So, do I. Since we left the restaurant prematurely, you didn't get to hear the entirety of my playlist which works for me because I much prefer to make love to you to music than dance."

"I don't know, dancing was gratifying." I mock.

Christian smirks and motions with his chin, "turn around," he orders.

Pivoting, I mutter, "bossy," under my breath.

He hears and takes great pleasure in issuing me a stern warning. "This isn't the time for your smart mouth Anastasia." When I come to a stop, he leans in to get closer to my ear. "This plum color compliments your dark hair, beautifully," he whispers as his fingers skate across the nape of my neck sweeping a handful to one side. "And it's a sultry contrast against your pale complexion." Christian pants, as he locates the zipper drawing it down exposing a patch of bare skin. Tilting his head down, he presses his lips to the area.

A quiver runs through me. "Yess," I whimper

"I'll have to buy you more dresses in the color," Christian vows, as his palms, at first, cool to the touch heats up when they absorb the warmth radiating from my body, moving smoothly across the blades of my back they push the flowy fabric over my shoulders. The delicate crepe floats down my body on its way to the floor, leaving me standing in the white slinky La Perla number. I recall the name because Franco wouldn't stop gushing about it and I was wearing the exact brand the first time Christian saw me in my bra and panties.

"Um...," slips from my mouth, but I go silent when Christian snakes around to my front and leers at me like I'm prey.

"Stockings, stilettos, and silk…The holy trinity. I'm pleased." My body shudders from a mix of sensual desire and self-doubt.

His eyes drink me in and I sway. Capturing my hand in his strong, powerful ones, Christian steadies me and then he helps me step from under the plume of plum fabric billowing at my feet.

My mouth goes dry, as Christian continues to consume me with his hungry gaze. "This is as much a slip as it is a negligee, in the same way, my panty is more a piece of string than anything else," I babble.

Grazing my skin Christian lets his finger slide the sagging spaghetti strap back up my arm to my shoulder. "Can't it be both? I chose it for its versatility, to give you an example of the sleepwear I like for you."

My head lolls to the side. "I take it you're not a fan of my pajamas."

"Not particularly." He strokes the side of my cheek, letting his thumb linger at my lips and my subversive streak fades. Instantly, I'm more yielding. Swooning I lean into his touch. "You should be in silks and satins," Christian murmurs and his hand falls away.

"Yes." I pant.

As for the panties, instead of going pantyless," Christian says, running his fingertips along the lace hemline of the slip, teasing the strip of naked skin peeking from underneath, "it's what I want you in at all times Miss Steele. Now arms up." Incapable of coming up with a witty retort to his X-rated musings, I comply.

The silk licks my skin, as Christian brings it up my body exposing my stomach and swollen mounds. Glancing up at him through my lashes, a coy smile flits across my lips. "Now what?"

"You don't disappoint is what," Christian says, flinging the shell to the pile, " and I'm very pleased." Stepping in closer, he palms my breasts sinking his fingers into the flesh sensually massages them, making me simper. "You fit my hand perfectly," he growls as he tweaks my nipples between his fingers.

His hands slide down to my waist anchoring me to the floor and lowering his head he sucks a swollen mound into his mouth his tongue lapping at the sensitive pebble. Brushing his nose against the hardening peak, he licks his way to the other heavy globe aching for the same level of attention. Latching onto the nipple, Christian alternates between biting down and lashing his tongue against it. "Oh, yes," I cry out.

Stopping, Christian angles his head up to peer at me. "I could make you come like this, but I want to feel your walls contracting around my dick," he says as he starts trailing soft wet kisses down the length of my body. Pausing at the apex of my sex, he goes down on his knees and my hands weave in his hair as he lavishes light pecks on my inner thighs and labia. "Your scent is intoxicating," he mutters nudging the tip of his nose along the slit."

My knees wobble. "Christian," I moan and he clutches the back of my thighs urging me back so I land on the edge of the bed.

"Lie back," he orders and then he manipulates my feet removing my shoes. Tossing the heels behind him, Christian starts on the next obvious target. My stockings.

Lifting a stocking-clad leg, he props my foot up on his shoulder and lets his fingers dance over the leg. Mewling, I embrace my inner-masochism and come up on my elbows to watch as he tortures me by slowly inching the sheer black stocking down my tingling limb.

I scrutinize his lascivious expression. "Why are you doing this to me?"

Christian chuckles. "Patience Anastasia," he says massaging my calves. "Your legs are sexy as hell; long, lean, and tone." He lets the barefoot slide down his body and picking up the other stocking-clad leg he rubs it against the outline of the bulge in his pants before bringing it to rest on his bare chest where he starts the erotic removal of the stocking all over again.

I collapse back on the bed. "Please, Christian."

Lowering my foot, on his knees he hustles closer to the bed and sidling up between my legs Christian grips my thighs hoisting them one at a time over his broad shoulders. Then, forcibly he tugs on the three strings ripping them from my waist revealing my wetness to him. "Fuck, me."

I feel his eyes searing into me. "What?" I pant.

Christian groans. "Anastasia you should see how you look. Your pussy is so fucking beautiful; naked, pink, and glistening. You're so wet for me your juices are smeared all over your upper- thighs." I try to pull my knees together. "Oh, no you don't," he says bracing his hands down on them keeping them apart.

"Ugh," I sigh, "then stop with the descriptive," I warn.

Christian sighs . "If I can't view or voice my opinion, then I'll have to probe," he says playfully, as he plunges two fingers into me.

My back bows. "Ah," I moan and Christian presses his free hand down on my stomach pushing my back flush against the mattress.

He wiggles his fingers stretching my opening. "Stay still, I haven't actually touched you yet," he murmurs and just as the words pass through his lips he starts pushing the digits in and out, in and out…"

Grounding down on his long, deft fingers, I cry out, "I'm going to come," and Christian lets up on his carnal assault on my core.

Smugly, he laughs. "No, you don't, you come when I say you can come." He asserts his dominance and plunges his fingers deeper into me only to bring them back out to start the malicious teasing of my sex all over again.

I writhe. "If you keep that up, I don't see how you can stop me."

He stares at me until I meet his gaze. "Are you testing me Miss Steele or challenging me?"

"Neither," I'm quick to respond.

He smiles. "Oh, because I'd gladly show you how. I wouldn't let you come at all. I'd get you so close and yet keep you so far away," he says coyly as he rubs my nub. The slick bundle of nerves easily slides between his fingers as the friction brings me that much closer to an orgasm. I fall back down on the bed.

"Oh gawd Christian," I groan and abruptly his fingers leave me and the building ebbs.

"See Anastasia, I control your orgasms; therefore, I control your body, therefore you're mine."

"Yes," I mumble. Denying it is useless.

"I told you not to worry, I'd teach you how to please me," Christian says. spreading my folds so I'm open to them. "I want to see all of you," he whispers. I sense his eyes boring into me as the air titillates the sensitive area."

I luxuriate in the pleasure derived from the million small fires ignited by his heated gaze. My back arches and coming back down to earth, I sit up on my elbows to discern what's sending the surge of electricity through me without so much a touch. "What are you doing?"

"Committing every inch of your pussy to memory because once I make you mine no one will ever again have you."

Throwing my forearm up, I collapse back on the bed and cover my eyes. "Christian, please," I moan my embarrassment threatening to douse fires burning inside me.

"Please what Anastasia." He blows over my clitoris.

"Gah."

Christian snickers. "Gah. Oh, Anastasia, you do have a way with words." He drives a finger in me. "But I prefer watching my finger disappear in you," he says, sliding the digit back to my entrance, "and reappear," he murmurs against my wetness thrusting the finger even deeper into me before pulling it back and quickly lifting my thighs. He then climbs up the bed. It dips slightly as Christian straddles me dragging my forearm from my eyes. "Don't be ashamed Anastasia, every inch of you is beautiful," he says, plunging the same fingers into my mouth that were just inside me. "See how you taste."

Sucking, "yes," I mumble and Christian extricates the digits.

"Like that huh, but I think you'll like this better. I know I would," he says, leaning down and drawing my tongue into his mouth. Cradling my head in his arms, Christian holds me in place as our tongues glide over each other and I taste him tasting me.

He grinds down on me and my legs part some more, granting him the leeway to rub his fabric clad cock against my clit with more fervor. Needing what only he can give me, I try moving but I'm pinned beneath him. His arms slacken and extricating his tongue, Christian gives me space to shift so freeing my hand I tug on the waistband of his slacks. "I need you out of these," I breathe. "Now." I pull harder.

He gives me a mischievous grin. "While I appreciate your sauciness, you're not topping from the bottom. In due time." Tilting his head down, he tugs on my bottom lip. "It's when I'm ready. Remember." Removing his arms, Christian kisses his way down the column of my neck, clavicle, and chest plate to my breast. "I want to savor you. Your taste is suspended in the moisture on your skin and it is divine."

"Um," I moan as my fingers thread is unruly hair. He blows over by nipples and his tongue juts out lashing at one from the other. "Yes," I gasp, as my hands fist in his hair. Nudging, Christian urges me to loosen my grip and when I do he slides down the bed to his feet.

My back rises and I come up on my elbows to observe the peep show...Christian divesting himself of his trousers and briefs.

Breathing hard, I can't take my eyes off of him. "Are we okay?" Christian asks as he fists the base of his cock.

"Yes, I'm on schedule with my pills, if that's what you're asking."

Salaciously, he grins. "Good girl. Come here. I think it's time you remind me how those luscious lips feel wrapped around my dick." This is the first time tonight, I've had a scintilla of thought about Luke, but I'm in a precarious situation. Luke was instrumental in getting me comfort with performing oral sex; so much so, the prospect of fellatio on another man has me squeamish, even if the man is Christian.

"Correction Mr. Grey. Your eyes have seen, your fingers have explored, now it's time your tongue take a dip. You may be a Dominant out there but in here I'm in control."

Puffed up with arrogance Christian pins me with a self-satisfied stare. "It doesn't work like that baby. I dominate out here and in here. But lucky for you, we walked out before the desert, and I'm ready for some so I will treat myself" Phew! My fake courage worked. Relieved, I flop back down on the bed and automatically my legs part for him.

His head buried between my legs, Christian lets his tongue spread my folds as I let Vault serenade me and gliding up and down my wet flesh his tongue laps over the bundle of nerves in the middle. "Oh, gawd Christian. Going to come." The plea is disjointed.

He lifts, his head slightly and his mouth is glistening with my juices. "No, you're not," Christian mumbles against the pulsating nerve and he lets the tip of his tongue flick my clit. My hands fist the covers. "I won't let you," he claims.

I gasp. "Oh, please Christian."

"You're begging me. I do like that, but you know what I'd like more?" Simpering, I squeeze my eyes and press the back of my head into the mattress concentrating on the lyrics to keep from coming. "I don't hear you, so I'll give you a hint. What do I want to do to your sexy mouth, Anastasia?"

My eyes open and I glance down at him. "Fuck," I finally say.

He gives me a wicked grin. "Demanding little thing," he says, coming to his feet. "Bring your head down here," Christian orders and I rotate my body getting situated so I'm level with his erection. "Open. Not so wide," he instructs.

Sliding his hand up and down his engorged cock he increases the slick moisture forming on the tip, then he rubs the cockhead over my lips smearing them with the pre-cum. Coming out, my tongue licks the briny taste. "Mm, yum," I purr.

Christian is flushed, his eyes dilated. "Anastasia, you vixen what are you doing to me?"

"Whatever you want?"

He grunts. "Is that right," Christian says, as he coaxes my mouth apart with his cockhead sliding it through the partially parted lips. The further he glides his considerable length, the wider my mouth has to stretch to accommodate his girth.

"Um," I garble.

Christian gasps. "Oh fuck! You're incredible." He grunts, as he penetrates my mouth and cupping me at the nape of my neck, he pushes my head, coaxing my mouth further down to the base of his cock until he's lodged at the back of my throat. I struggle not to gag and I don't. Proud of myself, I relish in the feel of his throbbing cock sliding in and out as he fucks my mouth.

"Mmmm," I moan.

Christian is breathless. "You feel like velvet." He pants and withdraws in a hurry. "Now, you're going to make me come."

Staring up at him, my tongue curves over my top lip lapping up the last drop of him. "Then do it. I want the taste of you filling my every orifice." Christian falls to his knees and clutching my face in his hands, he ravishes my mouth.

He ends the kiss and releases my face. "Get in the bed," Christian demands and getting on my knees I crawl to the head of the bed. Lying on the pillow, I wait for him.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes," I whisper.

Christian strokes his erection. "Anastasia are you sure because baby this is for keeps."

"I was sure the first time. I'm surer now. I know what I want and I want you Christian."

The bed dips and he climb over me. Hovering, Christian runs the back of his knuckles up and down my jawline. "I love you Anastasia Steele and I want you as my girlfriend along with all the frivolous romantic shit that goes along with it."

I smirk. "Hearts and flowers."

His eyes glint. "Yes, hearts and flowers. Your love inspires me, it makes me want to be better. Do better. No one has affected me in the ways you have and I will spend my every waking moment making up to you for all the ways I've hurt you."

"Mr. Grey I'd say you're off to a pretty good start," I murmur and Christian presses down on his arms lower himself so he can sample my bottom lip.

"Your mine Miss Steele," he mutters against the swollen lip.

"All yours Mr. Grey."

He comes back to his hovering position. "Then, prove it," he says and my thighs spread wider showing him further proof of my arousal.

"Please Christian, I can't wait anymore."

Keeping a palm flat on the mattress, he lifts a hand lining his erection up with my entrance rubbing the tip along the seam. "You don't have to beg, I can't wait either," he says. "Open your eyes, I want to see you when I reclaim you." My eyelids flicker and holding my gaze he slowly eases his cockhead into my entrance, the sweet friction of his erection pulsating against my channel is making it difficult for me to keep my eyes open. Holding my breath, I stay transfixed on him, as he sinks into me and my walls clench around his throbbing cock. "Mine." Christian mouths.

My eyes widen and simultaneously close as I cry out, "yesssss." The S's coming out like hisses.

Collapsing down on me, Christian wraps his arm around the top of my head locking me in place. Shrouding me, his forearm pressing down on my head as he takes his time using slow, steady motions to drive deeper into me. He's specific with his rhythm, unleashing deep penetrating thrusts finding my special spot with every stroke.

Our harsh breathing and smothered groans reverberate in the room competing with the music, while the scent of sex undercuts the sweet aroma coming from the candles.

"Fuck," Christian shouts and then removing his arms, one at a time he positions mine above my head. Then his long fingers slide in between my smaller more delicate splayed ones and the digits curl over each other. Burying his face in my hair he gets close to my ear, and he draws a breath before he starts singing," _'You are pulled from the wreckage of our silent reverie'." _I stifle a sob as a trickle of water trails down my cheeks.

My hips lift to meet his thrust and Christian is tender as he rolls his hips slipping deeper and deeper into me until I start building. Then his rhythm surges pushing me over the edge. "Oh God. Help me…..oh yessss." Incoherently, I scream

My singing dissipates as her silky moist heat starts clenching around my straining cock. And then her walls constrict sky-rocketing me to nirvana completing Anastasia's ownership of me. She had my heart and now she has my body, my soul can't be far behind. "Holly Fucking Shit," I cry out as a spasm hits me. Untwining our fingers, I come up on my knees as my orgasm roars through me. Bracing my hands down on Anastasia's thighs, my fingers sink into her skin as I try to keep myself upright. My head lolls back as my love drains from me flowing into her, filling her. Depleted, I bring my head forward and collapse on top of her.

The brooding Jeff Buckley opines, "_She broke your throne and she cut your hair and from your lips, she drew the Hallelujah_". My face smothered by her pillow, I blow at the hair strands tickling my skin. The line is perfect, Anastasia has put her spell on me.

He collapses down on me and I hook my arms under his shoulders holding him in place. Christian is drenched and I kiss his skin savoring the saltiness mixed with the masculine scent of him. "I love you," I murmur.

His harsh breathing consumes me. "We seriously need a new phrase because I love you isn't potent enough to explain how I feel after that."

I giggle. "But I'll settle for it," I murmur

"Then I love you ten times over," Christian says. "Thirsty."

I sigh. "Where did that come from?" He lifts his body.

"Baby, you zapped everything out of me. I need to replenish." He climbs down to the floor and once he's on his feet Christian glances back at me. "Gatorade or water."

"Water." Sitting up I tug the sheet to my chest, and I flip the script- I worship him. My eyes follow the Adonis as he leaves the room, every muscle on his body rippling.

When he returns, Christian hands me the glass of water and switches off the music. Setting his bottle down on the nightstand, he then joins me on the bed.

I wait for him to get in place. "Where did you get the lace?"

"Belgium. I was on a business trip and thinking about you. Brooding, I took a stroll through the streets and wandered onto a marketplace. An old lady merchant was selling these intricate panels. I didn't intend to stop, but the delicate lace pieces drew me in. They reminded me of you. No, idea what to do with them, I just knew I had to have them." His eyes roam over each one. "I guess they came in handy, huh."

"Yes, they did." Resting a hand on his chest, I peer up at him. "You did a magnificent job, pulling tonight together; from picking my outfit to picking the music, especially giving me a little taste of your rendition of Angel. I know you didn't want to do it. But I appreciate. Thank you."

Glancing down at me he gives me a peck on my forehead. "Anything for you." Smiling, he says as his finger rub small circles on my shoulder.

"I hate to ruin the mood, but I have some more questions."

"I thought you might."

"How many submissive did you have?"

"About 25, but to be honest, that number is inflated because, after you, I went through a lot searching for someone to take my mind off of you."

"Did you ever want Sam as a Submissive?"

"Sam wasn't submissive material. She was too much like me, which is precisely why we didn't work."

"Wow, that's not what I was expecting."

"Anastasia, don't read anything into it. It's what it is."

"Am I Submissive material?"

"I thought you were?"

I shift and I glare at him. "Great! What's that supposed to mean?"

"Anastasia are you asking me questions for a better understand or to be argumentative. If it's the latter, I'll stop now. The answers are not going to be agreeable for you to hear, they are not particularly pleasant for me, but I'm not going to hold back simply to make you or me comfortable. I want everything out in the open. To be honest so there's nothing left behind that would give you pause. But also, I'd prefer to not ruin the night. So, what's your pleasure?"

I settle back down. "The truth. All of it," I say. My words are cringe-worthy considering the lies I'm keeping from him.

"Initially, I wanted you to be my next Submissive. You presented yourself as the perfect candidate dark hair, pale skin, and you had a meekness about you."

"So, all your submissive look like me?"

"No. A couple maybe. Until you, I didn't realize I had a preference."

"What about now, do you think I would make a good submissive?"

"No. Baby, all your yes ma'am and no sir to Taylor and Gail were a ruse. You don't have a submissive bone in your body."

"I wouldn't go that far; I think I have some submissive tendencies." I peek up at him. "I think your playroom is interesting. I wouldn't mind going in there."

"No. You're too young."

"Too young. Hypocrite. You were younger than me when you first started."

"Precisely." His eyes are distant. "It's too dark, I don't want to expose you to that shit."

"Earlier, you said enjoyed it immensely. Well, I want to share in your likes."

His arm tightens around my shoulders. "Anastasia, I have many diversions, BDSM is the least of them. You could go sailing on my boat, flying in my helicopter, gliding in the glider...you name it. Why this preoccupation with my playroom?"

He's drifting so to pull him back to me, I let my fingers trail down his damp skin. Pausing at his navel I peek up at him through my lashes and his wicked stare is urging me to go further.

"I want more."

"More what?" he says.

"More of you," I say.

His large hand covers my hand. "I want to fuck you."

"I want that too."

"Are you sore?"

"Christian, have you seen what's dangling between your legs. That's a given."

"Good point," He smirks. "Flip on your stomach," he orders, but before I can, he inverts me. "You have a delectable ass," he says, his palms sliding over each globe and then he slaps one.

"Ouch," I purr. I wasn't expecting the lick.

"Oh baby, that's nothing." He gloats. "Did he have your ass, Anastasia?"

I recoil. "Christian."

He lays prostrate on my back and whispers in my ear. "Relax. This isn't an inquisition, it's informational only."

Pressing the side of my face into the pillow, I decide how to respond. Tell the truth or lie. I could test him on the control he boasts about.

The truth wins. "Yes," I say. The lies are stacked up against me. I needed to rid myself of a few. Christian bristles and the tremors vibrate against my skin. His body rises and I panic. "Naively I saw it as a way to be with him without giving myself to him entirely." The words rush out and Christian says nothing. Then, he parts my cheeks slipping a finger in the puckered hole.

I buck forward. "It's still tight," he says, wiggling the pinky until it's engulfed. There's some discomfort, but it doesn't hurt. "Should I reclaim your ass tonight too, Anastasia." My cheeks clench.

He withdraws his finger. "Whatever you want Christian. I'm yours," I pant, as the muscles in the pit of my stomach tightens. He smacks me. Hard. This time, I'm prepared. The pain is sudden, but fleeting; however, the desire it sparks lingers.

"You're damn right, you are and nobody touches what's mine." Christian presses his front to my back to gain better access to my ear. "You hear me, Anastasia? Nobody." He seethes.

"Yes, Christian. Nobody." I breathe.

He swats me on the other cheek and I squirm. "You like that?"

"Yes." I gasp.

His breathing is labored. "Do you want more?"

"Yes."

Grabbing me by the waist, Christian brings me up on my knees and he starts raining down licks on my ass, each as glorious as the next. I think I'm going to come each time he lands one. To ease the sting, he rubs my cheeks between each wallop; I chalk the action up to his dominant side. His expertise increasing my hankering for a turn in his playroom that much more. I want to experience his domination in his habitat. I want him to expertly work me over with a crop like I'd observed in the dungeon Luke and I had visited.

Christian lands the last one of how many blows, I do not know. I was so delirious with pleasure I lost count after 20. "I've wanted to turn your sweet ass pink ever since you brazenly, flaunted him in my face," Christian says and holding on to my waist, he slams into me from behind.

My body trembles. On his first stroke, my orgasm hits and rages through me, as I cry out his name. But Christian doesn't let me fall, he keeps driving into me, fucking me through my orgasm. Gripping my waist, he shouts profanity as his cock pulsates releasing his warm semen in me, at the same time, another orgasm washes over me.

His arm coils around my waist. "Mine," Christian grunts as he slumps onto my back.

I try to catch my breath. "When did I flaunt…" I pause to let air into my lungs.

"Your birthday. Is the little stunt coming back to you now?" His eagerness to taunt me comes through in his tone.

The memory comes flooding back and I squeeze my eyes. "Oh." I pant.

His body twitches. "Oh. That's it. You took great pleasure in giving me a blow by blow of how you were going to be thrown across your sofa and fucked in the ass. And all you have to say is, oh."

"Yeahhhhh." I draw out. "You remember."

"Remember, I can't forget it." He snarls and his cock twitches. I feel him expanding. How is it even possible, the man is a machine?

Uncoiling his arm, Christian withdraws and flips me on my back. Throwing my legs up in the air he starts pounding into me and my own orgasm builds. How is that possible, I just came? Hard. Twice. I'm going have to reconsider his proposed exercise regimen; running alone isn't going to cut it if I'm to keep up with his stamina.

"Oh, yes Chris-shen."

"Fuck me. God, I love you," he screams as he as his orgasm hits.


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40**: Power of Love

**Disclaimer:** EL James owns FSOG

**A/N: **I'm so sorry it has taken me so long to update. Life got in the way of my fun and updating just wasn't possible. But things have settled down and I should be back to a regular schedule. Thank you to everyone who followed up with me on PM, I appreciate your concern and your desire for my story. And thank you all for hanging in there as I continue this story... Please enjoy. Always thank you for reading, following, and reviewing.

Thank you Thank you for your patience and waiting

* * *

"10 minutes Gail," I say negotiating the corner of the breakfast bar, heading to the hallway.

When I get to my bedroom door, I pause for a beat, thinking about how the girl behind it has so profoundly changed me so quickly. My heart swells filling the cavity to capacity, a sensation unfamiliar to me but one I will never tire of. Smiling, I inch the door back selfishly hoping she's not awake just so I can watch her sleep. Peaking through the crack, I'm rewarded; she's on her front hugging her pillow.

Tapping the door, I push it back slightly then all at once. Leaning against the frame, I stare at her recalling my life before I allowed her light to cut through the darkness. If romance and politics were equal, I'd be on the fringe, an isolationist with an ideology outside of the mainstream. Reconciling my recent past with the present, I ponder the list of archaic views I held that she systematically dismantled. I don't make love, I fuck hard, I'm not hearts and flowers, and I don't do the girlfriend thing. More than mantras they were my conviction but she's my passion and that proved to be stronger than any force I'd encountered.

In her current position, Anastasia looks as if she's face planted. Her hair is one big brown mass covering her head fanning out on the pillow and still she's the most ravishing creature I've ever seen. I could stand here for hours beholding her sleeping form, but a glance at my watch lets me know I don't have the luxury. The intrusion of time, brings urgency to the moment so clearing my throat I begin the fun task of waking up sleeping beauty. Anastasia stirs, but doesn't rise so I raise the decimal and like a fish flopping on the deck of a boat, she flips to her back.

Slowly, coming up on my elbows, my eyes peel open and they land on Christian propped against the doorframe. Handsome as ever, his arms are crossed in front of his chest, and his feet at the ankles. And he's dressed. Sitting up, I push the unruly hair from my face sleepily rubbing my eyes. "You're dressed," I say, groggily a tinge of disappointment seeping through the garbled words.

Smirking, Christian's shoulder lifts from the door. "Yes. I am," he mutters crossing the threshold, "some of us have to work." Loosening his tie, he strolls further into the room towards the bed and my eyes track his every step until he close. And then he flops down on the edge reaching for me causing a slight dip in the mattress.

"I haven't brushed," I grumble.

Grasping me by the nape of my neck, like a lever he pulls my head down so my ear is close to his mouth. "I. Don't. Care." He whispers, before trailing kisses along the edge of my jaw to my lips. Running the tip of his tongue along the seam, he coaxes them apart, slipping his tongue inside exploring every crevice, including the back of my throat. Then he extracts it. "I wanted to greet you properly," he murmurs against my lips.

Breathlessly, I pant. "That wasn't properly."

Christian holds my forehead against his. "No." His head rubs against mine. "By, properly I mean waking up inside you."

Coquettishly, my lashes flutter. "Why didn't you?"

"You were tired," he says removing his hand and we separate going back to our corners. And then a sinister smile grazes his lips. "Not to mention I'm sure you're sore."

Crossing my eyes, I shake my head from side to side. "You and your obsession with me being sore."

"I just want you to be reminded -."

"Of where you've been." Mockingly, I say completing the idiotic misogynistic statement.

Christian shoots a threatening glance my way and I laugh. "Cute."

Scrunching my face up at him, I rake my fingers in my hair and they get stuck. "With this hair," I lament, inspecting the tangled knots, "I'm highly doubtful." After some wrangling, my fingers slip through. "I can't believe I slept with it wet."

Christian stands up. "I have no idea what that means and I'm not going to ask," he says, his eyes darting to the front of the room. "But you and your hair are perfect. On your worst day, you're prettier than the most beautiful woman in the world." He starts to the door and I panic.

"You're leaving?"

"No."

"Good," I say, "By the way, you know it's because you like me right?" I yell at him.

Christian pauses and turns to me. "Correction, I love you." Pulling the covers up to my chest, a broad smile promptly graces my face. Will I ever get used to those words coming from his mouth?

I caught a glimpse of Gail's shadow hovering at the door so I leapt from the bed before Anastasia spotted her ruining the surprise. "Sir," Gail whispers failing miserably at suppressing her shit eating grin.

Ignoring her smug giddiness, I take the tray. "Thank you," I simply say and turn to go back into the room. Then I have an epiphany. I pivot forward and so does Gail. "Eavesdropping," I say forcibly, and her smile falters. "Gotcha." I flash her my boyish smile and I'm rewarded with her Cheshire grin.

Anastasia's eyes grow wide when the tray comes into view. Sticking my chin out, I signal for her to hustle against the headboard for support. She shifts back, and I wait for her to get settled before setting the tray on her lap. Lifting the glass dome, I uncover her breakfast; a bowl of yogurt with granola, blueberries, drizzled with maple syrup, half of a grapefruit, toast, and a glance of orange-cranberry juice. And to mirror her beauty, Gail added the one perfect rose I selected from the bevy I had delivered this morning.

She sniffs the bloom. "Mmm," Anastasia sighs. Her head rotates and she pins me with her dreamy blue eyes. "What's all this?"

Extending my legs, I get comfortable on the bed next to her and reaching in front of her I pick a blueberry from the bowl. "Another stop on my apology tour," I say popping the berry into my mouth.

Crooking her finger, Anastasia beckons me closer and she captures my face in her hands. "Christian, you have to let it go and forgive yourself. I have."

"Never," I whisper.

She stares into my eyes before her hands fall away. Leaning forward, she digs into her breakfast without so much as a word, and I'm certain it's to appease me. Or perhaps it's the lighter fare that she's finding appetizing; a Gail suggestion that I'm going to take credit for.

Setting her spoon down, Anastasia picks up her napkin and wipes the corners of her mouth. "Are we good or do I have to eat everything?"

Sitting forward, I pick up the juice glass handing it to her. After a few sips, she hands the tumbler back to me and setting down, I lift the tray moving it to the table on my side of the bed. In the process, a loose wicker pokes me, but it doesn't break the skin. I've suffered far worse, so I don't let on and put my attention back on Anastasia. "Does that answer your question?" I say, sticking my hand into my pocket.

Fishing out the red leather box, I hand it to her; however, instead of taking it right away she stares at it. "Chrisssstian." She draws out my name.

"Relax. It's not a ring," I say shoving the box under her nose, "unless you want it to be," I say, half joking because if she wanted a ring, I'd have a jeweler summoned here by the time she got out of bed.

She snatches the box from my hand. "No." She weighs it, gently bouncing it in the palm of her hand. "What is it?"

"Just, open it."

Peaking under the lid, Anastasia gasps. Sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, she tilts her head up, fixing her eyes on mine and I'm mesmerized by them. They are gleaming more brilliantly than the two 2 carat diamonds flanking the message engraved on the bar of the bracelet. "Christian, it's exquisite," she says and before she can break into her refrain of, "it's too much" with my eyes I give her a stern warning.

Reaching across her I take the box out of her hand flipping the lid back removing the platinum bracelet from its nesting place. "You raise the ordinary to the extraordinary." From memory, I recite the inscription as the delicate piece of jewelry encircles her dainty wrist. "This is how the next morning should've played out our first time," I say, securing the clasp. Keeping my eyes trained on her I lift Anastasia's wrist up to my lips planting a butterfly kiss on the inside. "This time, around I went with the bracelet since you have a necklace that I'm pretty sure you'll never part with and I don't want you to."

Simpering, she cups the side of my face with her other hand. "Christian, let's not dwell in the past. We've been stuck there too long, it's time to move forward."

Inclining into her touch, I release the hand I'm holding resting it on top of the hand she has on my face. "Hold on to that thought," I whisper relocating her hand to her thighs, and leaning back I reach under the bed. After some rooting around, my fingers land on its target. "Something else for you," I say, producing the Waterford crystal keepsake box I had designed especially for her to replace her old tattered one.

She studies the box, then me, and without any prodding, she liberates it from my hand. "Christian, it's beautiful," she whispers.

"I want to move on too and we will, but I said I'd spend the rest of my life making things up to you and that's a promise I want to fulfil too," I say, smoothing the hair from her face.

Gently, Anastasia lifts the top and the piano solo of "Angel" I'd recorded starts filling the air.

Our eyes meet and hers are misty and mine is in awe. "Christian." She whimpers and I think to myself that she has no idea of the lengths I'd go to be the man I see reflected in her eyes.

"Keep that up, and you're going to wear my name out," I mutter.

"I don't care," she whispers.

"Neither do I."

She slides the sheet of paper out. "What's this?"

I take it from her hand. "I hope you don't mind, I had your mementos upgraded," I tell her and I proceed to run down the changes starting with the paper I'm holding.

The faded computer printout with the lyrics to "Angel" was replaced with a signed copy I had Taylor procure. The rose and unidentified chip of metal was professionally handled and hermetically sealed in acrylic boxes. Finally, I had the the motto etched on top of the lid like her old box; in addition to, the underside. Opened or closed I wanted the words in front of her so at all times she's know how I see her.

"You sir, are unbelievable. You're the one that raises the ordinary to the extraordinary."

"If there's any truth to that, it's because of you. You make me want to be better. Unique to you, you actually make me believe that I can be better. Do better."

Setting the box down on the bedside table, Anastasia raises her arms and says, "Come here," and hustling in closer I let her enfold me in them. "I love you," she murmurs, and instead of my dick twitching, my heart races.

Returning her embrace, I pull her tighter to me. "I love you too and as much as I'd like nothing more than to stay right here, I have a meeting I need to get attend." I release her. "I've already pushed it back. Unfortunately, it couldn't be rescheduled."

I sigh. "Christian, you didn't have to change your schedule for me."

Resting a knee on the bed, he leans across it tucking my hair behind my ear with his fingers. "Sure I did," he says, and coming back to his upright stance, he opens his palm and tosses something at me. I flinch letting the object drop to the covers in front of me.

Panning down, my eyes land on the menacing Scrunchie. Picking it up, I push the hairband over two fingers holding it up in the air and speculatively, I scan his face. "Where in the world did you get a Scrunchie?"

"The bathroom. I had a suspicion you'd need it." He winks. "It's my job to anticipate your need and be prepared to supply it."

I gather a hand full of hair in my hand at the nape of my neck. "Someone has morphed into Dom mode." Teasingly, I say twisting the band around the bundle.

Christian gives me a disapproving look. "I'm not your Dom and never will I be. I'm your boyfriend," he scolds. "I read the good boyfriend handbook, and just so happen some of the same qualities are applicable," he says deadpan interjecting some humor to downplay his previous statement and on cue, I giggle.

"Really. There's a boyfriend handbook?" I tilt my head briefly. "And you read it?"

He pauses at the end of the bed. "Skimmed it?" He smirks. "But I have plans to read it in its entirety before the week is out." He pats the covers hitting my feet. "You should get up, Luke will be here shortly." My body tenses. Luke's presence is looming heavily over me and his name on Christian's lips wreaks of betrayal. "It's still wet outside so instead of having him take you out for a run, I had him secure the gym."

I snap to attention. "Backup. Can you repeat that?"

"I don't want you getting sick, so you're going to work out in the gym downstairs. The equipment and track are world class."

"Before you, I ran in the rain you know." He glowers at me, and I quiver under his intense glare. "What exactly does secure mean?" I say with less rancor.

Pleased that he's gotten his way, Christian softens. "In security terms, vetted and then secured ensuring that you and Luke will be alone."

I hear the word **alone**, and all other words fade away.

* * *

Like two lovers in a romantic comedy reuniting Ms. Jones and I run towards each other culminating with a hug in the middle of Christian's kitchen. Embracing me she's quick to remind me that she told me he'd come to his senses and in return I thank her for the support and unwavering belief in us. However, too soon our reunion is disrupted by Luke announcing himself. Ms. Jones and I release each other, and I wheel forward. Luke is standing at the edge of the room. His measured tone belies the scowl he's wearing. Mindful, that we're not alone I hold in the snippy comment bubbling up inside me.

"Ms. Steele", Ms. Jones calls and I rotate my head. "I'm going to the grocery store is there anything special I can get for you?" she says.

The elevator pings open. "No," I say and when I swing my head forward Luke is waiting for me.

I enter the steel box and in his new role as my CPO, Luke plants himself in front of me. This is the first time we've found ourselves alone since our inauspicious reunion and soon as the doors close the tension erupts. We're plunged into a silence so loud, it's deafening. My hands grip the rail for support as I reminiscence; staring at him from behind, I can't help the image of him naked that's corrupting my mind. It's not like his workout shorts are tight or revealing, it's the memories that are vivid. As handsome as he is in a suit, I'd always found him to be his sexiest in casual attire or work out gear. The memories are choking me, I have to break this quiet, but the snide comment I'd banked feels too incendiary.

Benji comes to mind. Or should I say he's always been there. He's noncontroversial, so the topic should be safe. "Where's Benji and how is he?"

Staring at the door, Luke remains stock still. "Benji is fine. A house sitter is taking care of him today. My parents are picking him up tomorrow. They're going to keep him for me," he says, matter factly never turning to look at me.

My hands slip from the railing and I stand up straighter. "You're sending him back?" My voice breaks. "Why?"

Luke whips around. "Why?" he shouts. "That's your question, why. I brought him back for you," he seethes. "What else would you like to know?" The elevator lands and the doors slide open. Grabbing me by the forearm, Luke drags me out hauling me the few feet to the exercise room.

He makes we wait at the entrance while he does another sweep of the place. Assured that there are no boogie men or women for that matter lurking behind the elliptical machines, he makes his way back to the front snatching me by the upper arm. "You're hurting me." Tuning out my cries, he yanks me inside slamming the door. The steel frames bash against each other creating a bang that makes me jump and I listen for the crash. But the class holds up, I'm guessing it was reinforced.

Seemingly, oblivious to the thunderous noise, Luke spins me forward and releases my arm. "Speak," he bellows.

My arms cross in front of my chest, and I hug myself my hands sliding up and down my upper arms. "What do you want from me?" I bark.

His nostrils are flaring and his teeth grinding down on each other. "Fuck Ana, I need some answers." Reaching over my shoulder, he slams his hand against the brick wall and I flinch. "I came back for you!" he pauses. "And I find you on his arms. Christian fucking Grey, Ana. Are you fucking kidding me?"

My arms drop to my side and I stare him in the eyes. "Did you ever consider telling me? Getting my thoughts, before just showing up? What do you want from me Luke, I'm in this predictable with you. I'm seeking answers too. I had no expectation of finding you on that roof. Heck, I had no idea you were in the country?"

His breathing is harsh, but he's adjusted his temperament. "Things were so fluid that night, I didn't have time to think. There was barely time to act. Getting back to you was the only thing on my mind," he says.

"I'm sorry, so sorry you had to find out about Christian in that way."'

He huffs. "When I told you to live, love, and laugh he's not who I'd pictured for you. In fact, he never entered my consciousness."

"From your perspective, I'm sure it's confusing. And yes we have some things to work through but we're going to get there." Luke chuckles. The amusing outburst takes me aback.

"Sorry, laughing is how I keep my sanity. How I make sense of everything - our time together. When I think about all the fucking clues, I'd missed…Seattle, young, wealthy, all I can do is laugh. Considering my profession, it is beyond comical that I couldn't put them together. It doesn't bode well, for inspiring trust in my abilities." He smirks. "You haven't said it, but then again you don't have to, a blind man can connect these dots. Christian Grey is your baby's father?"

My "yes," is barely audible, but it's loud enough to wound him.

"Fuck," he says throwing his head back.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am that everything came to a head in such a dramatic fashion. But you have to cut me some slack, I had no reason to believe you'd ever find out. One, we're no longer in a relationship. Two, you're not the only one that missed the clues, I did too. I didn't know you worked for Christian so there's no way I could've foreseen this quandary. And three you left me." My voice cracks.

He sighs. "Your blame is misplaced. I did everything by the book. I did right by you Ana, can he say the same? Yet he's the one that ends up with you."

"What we shared wasn't built to last. We admitted that it was created in a bubble and we were happy with not confronting the truth. But the thing with bubbles eventually they burst. We didn't miss clues or was negligent in putting them together, we didn't try. We were content in the not knowing."

Exasperation is clouding his blue eyes, but when I wade through their murkiness, it's apparent that the bulk of his fury is directed at Christian and not me. He's only questioning my judgment and I can't blame him. I've asked myself the hard questions, but there are no easy answers. They're as complex as the man himself. In the past 48 hours, Christian has demonstrated the same capacity to love as to destroy. He's used his words to eviscerate me, but in the last days, his words have exalted me. I haven't forgotten, but I have forgiven.

"You know, I wanted to kill him."

"Luke."

"Don't worry," he sighs, "it's before the faceless, nameless monster had an identity."

"And that has changed things?"

"Everything." His hand comes up and, he grips my chin between his fingers. "Did you tell him about us?"

I swat his hand away. "There is no us Luke," I say.

"Despite your insistence, your body is giving off a different vibe. I felt the quiver when I shook your hand. You were trying to camouflage it, but here's the thing you can't hide our kind of chemistry. Like now. When I'm this close to you the warmth I'm igniting in you is enveloping me like a cloak in the depth of winter." Holding my gaze, his hands tenderly wipes the moisture from my cheeks. Closing my eyes, I relish in having his hand on my skin once again and then things escalate. Fast. Bracing my face between his hands, Luke forces my face up to his. "We're not finished," he mutters crushing his mouth to mine pushing me backwards.

My back bumps into the brick wall jolting me, but what's radiating through my body isn't pain. I wish it were. His erection is pressing into me as he thrusts his tongue down my throat and my body goes lax. His lips on mine are too soft and too familiar, considering that I'm not his, but Christian's. So; as much as, my body is craving more, I quickly come to my senses, and in one defensive motion, my hands sweep upward breaking his grip on my face. First, his tongue comes out and then he stumbles back slightly, giving me the space to escape.

Sliding down the half wall, I draw the back of my hand across my lips wiping away the taste of him. And the feel. My insides are on fire. Blazing into him, I can feel my eyes scorching a hole into his skin. "What the hell!" It's not in my nature to swear, but profanity seems fitting.

Wiping the tinge of blood from his lip where my teeth accidentally nipped it, Luke returns my heated gaze. "Yeah. What the hell." He runs the tip of his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip. "I only gave you what you've been begging me for since you first saw me," Luke retorts and as much I want to protest denying his claim I can't. Stepping right in front of me he gets in my face. "Tell me your body didn't just melt under my touch. Tell me I imagined you kissing me back with the same fervor. Tell me you're not happy to see me." He is calm, cool, and direct. "Come on Ana, the atmosphere was filled with anticipation. The situation was ripe for us. Something was bound to happen, and you have to admit that for a moment time and space stood still. It was just you and me."

The rage subsides some. "That wasn't anticipation crackling in the air Luke; that was apprehension. Trepidation. Consternation. You fill in the blank." My hands flail. "Pick any ominous word. A dark cloud was following us all morning. If anything you were smelling fear, my fear because I'm vulnerable. Yes, I'm happy to see you, and of course, feelings would stir. What we shared was special, intense at times. And right now I'm a tidal wave of emotion and I'm vulnerable to you but lets be clear that doesn't change how I feel about him."

Dismissively, Luke snorts. "Christian Grey. You're really staking your happiness on Christian Grey. Good luck with that," he says snidely. "It just occurred to me why I never pegged him as the culprit. Your paramour. Christian Grey, doesn't fuck little girls like you."

His bitterness has never been more evident than in those words. "You're not nearly as smart as you think, I get the interference and if I were you I'd be careful."

He claps. "Taking up for him already. After every shitty thing, he's done to you, you're defending his honor. That's rich. I'd find it hilarious if it weren't so fucking sad," he barks.

"I'm not defending his honor I'm protecting your job." I snip. "You signed an NDA!" Breathing hard, I pause to catch my breath and let go of the wall. "One thing I know for sure is that Christian values loyalty from his employees and that comes in the form of a confidentiality agreement of which you signed and is getting very close to breaking."

"How fucking benevolent of you, taking my employment into consideration."

"You're not the center of my world Luke-."

"That's the problem, I never was," he interjects.

I narrow my eyes at him, not allowing him to take me off message. "I didn't appreciate your tone or the disrespectful way you referred to me. I'm not a little girl."

He smirks. "You're so naïve. It's ironic that the one person that has suffered the most at his hands and knows better than anyone what he's capable of is the person that is so quickly to forgive him. One night on his dick and extravagant gifts can't change facts or history though. He did unthinkable things to you Ana, and it nearly destroyed you."

His words sting, because they ring true, but I don't return fire. "You're hurt, so you want to inflict your pain on me. I get it."

Luke nods his head. "I'm not the one who's going to hurt you. Don't let his smooth taste fool you. It's all smoke and mirrors. Christian Grey doesn't do romance and I know you know all of this, but it bears repeating. You want the romantic ending, but he's not the one to give it to you. I am."

"We tried. Have you forgotten," I say sarcastically and I step around him to walk to the wall of glass that has been tinted to shield the people on the inside from the interlopers on the outside. In its reflection, Luke's shadow is larger than life as he comes up behind me.

"I haven't forgotten. Hell, I wished I had. Your pull on me wouldn't be so great. I've thought about you every moment of every day."

I spin around. "You left," I say wiping my face, "you left me."

He frowns. "You keep saying that, as if repeating it makes it true. But you must know it's not, when I left at the behest of your doctor, with your consent. This is revisionist history Ana and not a fair interpretation of the truth. So, to now try and use my leaving against me. Is fucked up."

I sniffle. "You ran. It got tough and you ran. Alison was right, you don't fight. You run."

"Alison, really. That's a low blow. Comparing us to what happened between Alison and me doesn't hold. I'd never loved her as much as I loved you. So, why invoke her name?

"Because we have shared experiences when it comes to you. Like with me, you gave up and just walked away."

"Wow," Luke sighs. "Is this is a game to you, do you think any of this was easy for me. I'd just proposed to you for God sake. I was ready to spend the rest of my life with you."

"You've just proved my point. You were days from marrying Alison. What does that say?"

He runs his hands over his head. "Your theory might fit your narrative except for one little fact- Alison left me and in a lot of ways so did you. So, yes I guess you two are similar. She hid behind her parents, you, your Therapist. What does that say about you?"

A lump catches in my throat. "You're missing the point, you never fight. You didn't fight for Alison and you sure the hell didn't fight for me," I say in a strangled voice. "You gave up. Say, whatever you want about Christian. Judge him. At least east, he fought for me. He didn't give up." I snivel.

We're so close, I can almost see the 'what ifs" running through his mind, and he lets his lids slide close blocking me out. Then his eyes flash open boring into my soul. "Whatever I did, I did for you. I loved you then, as much as, I love you now." Coming in closer, Luke caresses the side of my face with the back of his knuckles. Closing my eyes I give into the tears, letting them trickle as he strokes my face. "And you love me," he whispers. "I know it. When I see inside your eyes I see everything clearly; why you needed me."

His words, grip my heart and I open my eyes so he can see my response not just hear it. "No." It wasn't put to me as a question, but the implication was there. He planted the seed, but I didn't have to let it take root and become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

The disappointment registers immediately on his face. "Then why did you go to the house?"

"We covered this on the phone. I went through it with your friend. You're putting too much stalk into what happened. It wasn't intentional, it was an accident."

"I'm not convinced, but if that's what will let you lay next to him and sleep at night, I'll let you believe it. I don't need your affirmation, the facts speak for themselves and they were enough to bring me back."

I smirk. Unbeknownst to him he's handed me the opening I'd been hoping for. "You need a fact check Luke, now who's making the talking points fit their narrative. It sounds good and makes for a good fairytale ending, but the truth is you didn't come back for me. You came back for the money. I know Luke, I heard everything. You may badmouth Christian, but you're comfortable with taking his money. You hypocrite."

"Sense you were eavesdropping you I'm sure you heard that I turned him down at first. So, why do you think I went back to him?"

"You tell me. How much did he offer you?" I say.

"Despite what you may be thinking, I'm not ashamed Ana. He doubled my salary and committed to contract with my company for his overseas' security needs. The contract alone could net my company upwards of 100 million dollars. I just had to agree to protect the new woman in his life for a year. I'd also help with finding my replacement. To answer your question, I accepted because I saw it as my best-fasted opportunity to get back to you, and it was a plausible reason I could give to my father as to why I was returning to my job instead of starting my own business as planned."

I didn't consider the ramification this has for him. "Your parents. Do they know about all of this?"

"No. I made up some story about why I couldn't keep Benji."

"Thank God, I don't want to give them another reason to hate me."

"They don't hate you. Like me, they could never hate you."

"Luke, don't do this to me."

"Do what?"

"This, what you're doing now. Looking at me like that."

"What. You're going to control my eyes now. Geeze, Grey is rubbing off on you. You're not omnipotent you know. Neither is he. Grey is a formidable foe, but he isn't God. Of all the girls in the world, he could've fallen in love with, he chose mine. If I can't have your heart, I'll protect it."

"Me nor my heart needs your protection," I say.

"Yes, you do."

"It's too dangerous."

"Why. You feel nothing for me so why would it be dangerous?"

"Don't be coy Luke, you know Christian better than me. He has a six sense. He will pick up on the tension between us."

"Yes, the man is jealous-."

I snort. "That's an understatement. I had to stop him from pummeling Copper."

"Copper. What the fuck. How does he factor into this? All these names from the Christmas past. What gives?"

"I wouldn't consider Copper part of the past though his present and future in my life are in question."

"You've thrown out enough red meat, you gotta fill me in." I give Luke the cliff notes version of Copper's run in with Christian's fist.

Clutching his waist, he bends over. "I should shake Grey's hand." He chuckles, returning to an upright position. "I've wanting to clock that asshole for the longest time. I just never saw him."

"Sorry. I don't share you and Christian's view of him. Copper is a nice guy."

"A nice guy doesn't show up at a girl's door uninvited and sticks his tongue down her throat. That's borderline creepy heavily leaning towards sexual assault territory."

"Now, you sound like Christian."

"Of course, I do, we have you in common. Neither of us wants another man touching you."

"I'm sure you know how ridiculous that sounds, so I won't bother telling you," I say.

"Yep. Forget about Copper, our problems are bigger than him. From all account, Grey has been very forthcoming with you, have you considered," he pauses, "telling him the truth."

I scoff. "The truth about us? Are you kidding me? You'd be a dead man."

"Don't worry about me, I can take care of myself."

"I'm not willing to take the risk." Luke steps in and I step back. "Stop! Another example of why it wouldn't work, you acting as my security guard."

"Why, because you still have feelings for me."

I walk around him. "That shouldn't come as a surprise, I told you, you'd always matter to me. That hasn't changed, but the situation has. I'm not trying to hurt you, but I want Christian."

"What if I said, I'm willing to fight for you?"

"I'd say it's too late. I'd say, you need to move on. I'd say I'm no longer available." I reach into my pocket. "Here."

He backs up and says, "I don't want the ring, it's yours."

"It's not the ring, it's the pendant."

"The necklace. Why? It's of you and the baby. What could be wrong with that?"

"It's from you. I'm not in that same place anymore and with this triangle brewing, it no longer holds the sentimental value it used to. I can't define it, but it feels too much like betrayal and I don't want the memory of my child linked to negative feelings."

He glances down at my wrist. "And that holds sentimental value?" His head comes forward and he locks eyes with me. "Tell me, Ana. What about him captures your attention the most; looks, power, or money."

"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer."

"You don't have too, the bling weighing down your arm tells me all that I need to know. You've hit the trifecta, you don't have to choose."

"I think I should go," I say.

When I reach his side, Luke grabs my arm. "Wait," he says. "We should get some reps in. If I know him, he'll inspect you for sweat." My anxiety rises and my head swings upward examining the rafters and the perimeter checking every corner. "Relax, there are no cameras in here, it's a private gym."

"Oh," I sigh, "then we're okay, Christian's at the office."

"I know, but he has his ways," Luke says.

I eye him speculatively. "I'm not sure I trust you, but I'm not going to take any chances," I say, jerking my wrist from his grip.

Gesturing, Luke steps aside. "After you."

I scamper to the first machine on the circuit and throw my legs across the bench straddling it. Gripping the handles, I easily lower the bar as I sit down. "More, weight please." Pressing his front flush against me, Luke leans over my back moving the peg a few notches increasing the plates on the machine to 60 pounds.

He checks with me. "How's that?"

I give the bar a little tug testing the resistance. "Good," I say and with that one-word response, my workout begins in earnest.

Luke, returns to his spotting position, and I don't know if it's intentional or not, but his manhood grazes my back. Each time he gets closer to me, I feel him growing and it's unsettling. Ignoring, the tingling between my legs brought on by his nearness, straining I bring the bar to my nape, completing the shoulder press.

"One," he counts, and his breath hitting the skin on the nape of my neck is doing precious little to lessen his effect on me.

Panting, I relax my arms and clinging to the handles I let the bar recoil. "Where's the music? It just hit me that there is none."

"I didn't think we'd need it. Next time I'll make sure to have it," he says, as I lower the bar.

"Two," he counts.

"You're tanned, I take it you got lots of sun," I say, holding the bar in place above my head.

"Something like that. One day I'll fill you in on my adventures," Luke says, dispensing with my attempt at small talk. Taking his hint, I focus on my workout and before I know it I reach 75. "Okay, Rocky I think we're good here." Teasingly, Luke says uncurling my fingers from the handle and a surge of energy shrieks through me, propelling me to jerk my hands back.

Holding them in front of my chest, nervously I fidget with my fingers. "Thanks, I'm ready for the next machine."

"Wait. That was a lot of reps, the muscles in your shoulders must be burning. Let me," Luke says, his fingers sinking into my shoulders. There's a layer of clothing separating his fingers from the surface of my skin but with the flames he's sparking in me, I might as well be naked. Adding to my frustration, every time he manipulates my shoulders, his growing erection pokes me in the back.

Rolling my shoulders, I shrug his hands off. "I'm good," I say jumping up.

"You're okay? You're breathing is labored."

"I'm working out." I snap and passing up on his hand, I bring one leg from over the bench.

He smirks. "That explains the breathing. What accounts for the flush skin, racing heart, and wet panties?"

Bringing my feet together, I squeeze my thighs. "Oh, you have ex-rayed vision now ."

Grabbing my arms, he pins me against the next machine. "I don't need it, I know you're body."

My head lolls to the side. " I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you do." he says, lifting my shirt. "Your eyes are glazed too." His hand then slides down the plain of my stomach.

"Luke, please."

Leaning in he gets closer to my ear and whispers, "Please what? Tell me what you want a baby."

My head rolls forward. "Mmmm," I moan, his fingers slipping under the waistbands of my shorts and panties.

"You don't want me to stop, do you?" he whispers, as his fingers part my folds flicking the tip of my clitoris.

"Aha," I groan. "Luke."

"Yes, baby. Missed me; as much as, I missed you." Nipping my earlobe, he inserts his fingers into my core.

"Ugh." I gyrate against his fingers as he plows deeper into me. I want to tell him, no, but he's plucking all the yes strings.

"Yes, Ana, feel it." Luke grunts and I shrink back against the machine. My skin makes contact with the cool metal, waking me up.

Shame seizes my whole being. "Oh God," I sputter then anger sets in and I shove Luke on his chest pushing him off of me.

Stumbling backwards, he pulls his hand out and with tears trailing down my cheeks I bolt not bothering with straightening my clothes. "Are you a girlfriend or a Submissive?" Luke's voice is abrupt stopping me dead in my tracks. "If I were you, I'd get it in writing. Whatever it is you are to him."

Swiveling around, I toss the pendant to the floor. "Don't. You. Ever. Touch. Me. Again." I scream and dashing out of the door I rush to the elevator before he can catch up to me. Luckily, it's parked and open so I run inside. Fumbling, I press the penthouse floor and watch the steel doors slide together just as Luke reaches them.

Unable to shake the shame, anger, and guilt I bawl all the way up on the ride to Christian's penthouse. When the elevator doors slide open, I race out relieved to be in the safety of his home. I want nothing more than to make it to his bedroom, be next to his things, collapse on his bed and forget that anything after our breakfast together happened. Scrambling, I bump into a wall. A wall of muscles covered in some of the finest Italian fabric in the world.

His arms envelopes me and I fall into them. "Baby, what's wrong?" Christian inquires.

Tears, large and plentiful flows across my face soaking into his fancy suit. "Please don't make me. I don't want security." I hiccup, and the elevator beeps.

"An -." My name fades on Luke's lips and I suspect it's because of Christian's presence.

"Luke, what the hell is going on?" Christian booms and I clutch him tighter out of fear and to distract him.

I regain my professional composure, casting my aspersion for him aside, I put her first. "I'm not sure sir, but if I had to guess. I'd say security. Ms. Steel doesn't want it," I say, keeping my eyes trained on the girl in his arms whose shoulders are trembling.

Angry and envious that he gets to be the one to sooth her, I stand at his attention pretending to be his faithful servant as he rubs circles on her back, caressing the woman I love. My, how the roles have gotten reversed; I've become the villain and he's the hero.

"I've got it from here Luke, you can go," Grey says, in his dismissive tone.

My eyes dart from his to the back of Ana's head then back to his. "Yes, sir," I say and it's taking everything in me not to jerk her out of his arms pulling her into mine. I'd take her away from this beautiful fortress. On the outside, Escala and Grey represents everything a woman would want when in reality they're both toxic. He drains the life out of women and this is where their souls go to die. I can't let that happen to Ana, I won't let it happen to her. She's too bright of a light for him to dim. He's done it once, but I'd be damn if I'd let him do it again.

"Luke."

Grey's voice stirs me from my thoughts. "Sorry, sir I just wanted to apologize to Ms. Steele." I throw out as an explanation to why I didn't jump when he said jump.

"It's okay Luke." Her voice is small, but the message is clear so I make my departure.

I hear the elevator going down and already breathing is easier. Relaxing some, I rest in Christian arms as my tears wane. "Want to talk about it?" His chin slips from the top of my head and he tilts his head downward.

"Luke, pretty much said it all," I say against his jacket.

Christian expels a breath. "Okay." Nudging my shoulders, he forces me back so I can I look at him. "We need to get something straight; you do not call him by his first name and he doesn't get to use yours. I have some strict guidelines on the topics when it comes to my employees. Sawyer knows better. This time, I let it slide, but I heard him. You're Ms. Steele to him, and he's Sawyer to you." Putting a finger under my chin, he tips my face up. "Understand."

"Yes," I say when in actuality I don't. His logic has some holes; primary among them, he wants me to use Taylor and Ms. Jones first name and Luke's last. But I'm not in the position or the mood to point out the inconsistencies.

"The tension between the two of you was palpable. So, is there anything I should know?"


	41. Chapter 41: I Get Jealous

Chapter 41: I get Jealous

**Disclaimer:** FSOG belongs to EL James

**AN **Thank you for your patience. 41 chapters and it still takes me a couple of days before I have the courage to post a finished chapter. One day I'll stop being nervous. Anyway, thank you for reading, following, and reviewing.

* * *

The door slams. It's not resounding, but my steps falter and trembling fingers flip the light switch. Checking over my shoulder, I make sure nothing was disturbed. The fluffy towels and masculine apothecary jars are safe, so my obsession with the door quickly vanquishes and fishing inside my pocket I walk further into the room. Cell phone in hand, I flop down on the toilet. Thanks to the heavens the seat's closed.

Large tears rolling profusely down my cheeks, I feverishly scroll through my contacts and when I land on the number, out of habit, my thumb hovers a fraction before tapping the screen. Startling me, Dr. Ryan answers, on the first ring, the best I was hoping for was her voice machine.

Hesitating, I say, "hello." My voice is shaky and small.

"Ana. Are you okay!"

"I'm so sorry to bother you on your vacation."

"Let me worry about vacation. Talk to me."

I condense the conundrum into two sentences. We set an appointment for Monday morning, I'll meet with her after my group. That handled, I decide to tackle my texts. Swiping right, I open the icon- Kate's name pops up. I swallow the bitter disappoint that it's not his. My ladylike sensibility takes a leave and I reach for the toilet paper roll instead of the Kleenex box ensconced in a handsome gold cover displayed invitingly on the counter.

Dabbing my eyes, I read Kate's message; she's chastising me for being unresponsive and a dismissive snort escapes me. Blowing my nose, I finish the scathing note but put off responding. She'll have to wait to quench her nosey journalist thirst; I don't have the strength of mind to deal with her. So, I thumb through her numerous texts, stopping at one from Lulu. I'm certain it's one of her cryptic messages letting me know she's among the living, still I can't ignore it. I'm not that hardened. Mopping the screen with what's left of the tissue, I start perusing but get distracted by the note below it. A ping of guilt hits, I got so swept up in the Christian Grey phenomenon, I forgot about Sean. So, I make a mental note to call him when I'm back in Portland. Update him on my relationship status. If I have one after today, that is.

Tossing the remnants of the toilet paper in the trash, I ram the phone into my pocket and stand. I manage to put one foot in front of the other, despite their heaviness. It feels as if I'm on something akin to a death march; instead of the guillotine the sudden demise of my fledgling relationship is the threat. The gnawing in my gut rumbles louder, and I crumple over sinking my fingers into the edge of the vanity. My head droops, and I'm reminded of the fragility of the dandelion plant. During the life cycle of the flower, it develops a fluffy white dome that from the slightest breeze the delicate star-like seedlings float away. It parallels my life- happiness is fragile. There's always a storm brewing; some in nature, some manmade, waiting to snatch it from my grasp.

Pushing the uneasiness aside, my head pops forward and my pathetic image comes into view. Tear stained tracks line my cheeks, as more trickle down joining them. For our relationship to collapse, right here, right now is beyond heartbreaking, it's unfair. Unfurling my fingers I turn on the faucet and cupping my hands, I capture cold water splashing it on my face. Plucking a hand towel from the rack, I lay it over my lids. The cloth slips and my eyes flicker. I study them in the mirror; aside from red-rimmed, they're sad, scared, and confused but it's not what's seizing my imagination. It's the bathroom. There's a chameleon-like quality to the space, it seems to reflect my mood; expansive when I'm gleeful and constricting when I'm glum. Like now.

Gently, I close the door and trudge the short distance down the hall. Christian must've been anticipating my appearance because; as soon as, I reach the end he greets me drawing me into his arms. I press my ear to his heart just to hear it beating. "Better." He's hopeful, but the tears soaking through his crisp white shirt dashes it.

"I'm sorry." I whimper

He tightens his embrace. "Don't be, just talk to me. Tell me what has you so upset." Giving me an encouraging kiss, on the top of my head, he unwraps his arms, draping one over my shoulders leading me to the sofa.

Holding on to my hand, he waits for me to get settled before he lets go. "Thank you," I whisper.

Sitting down next to me, he lifts his hand moving the matted strands of hair littering my cheeks tucking them behind my ear. Folding his hands in his lap, intently he stares into my eyes and my face contorts; it's ugly, but I'm powerless to stop it. "Come here baby." His soothing voice beckons to me and I fall into his opened arms. "Talk to me please, you're scaring me." Christian's head tilts down, mine goes up and I examine his facial expression. "I hate to see you this upset." Concern is worrying his gorgeously handsome face.

"I love you." I whimper and my head falls.

Christian plants another kiss on the top. "I love you too. So much. More than I thought it was possible to love another human being and right now it's killing me that I can't stop your tears. So, you've got to help me out and let me know what I can do. Helplessness isn't something I do well."

Pressing the side of my cheek hard into to his chest, I try to pierce it, I want to touch his heart not merely listen to it. Clenching his waist tighter, I murmur, "just hold me."

He sighs. "That I can do." Tightening his grip, Christian rubs small circles on my back his fingers grazing the nape of my neck. "Where's your necklace?" I bristle at the harmless question.

I shift against him, and his arms slacken just enough for my fingers to creep to my throat. Playing things off, I sweep across it. "I don't know," I mumble.

Drawing his arm back, Christian sits forward bringing me with him. "You had it earlier so most likely it fell off when you were working out. I'll have Jason check the gym."

Lurching, I catch his wrist just as he starts to rise. "No!" He pauses in mid-air and peeks back at me. "It's okay." Softly, I say without the tension. "It's part of my past. I don't need it. We're moving forward."

I free him and dumbfounded he slowly lowers his body making contact with the cushion. "Anastasia, that's crazy, you love that necklace."

I nibble on my bottom lip. "Not as much as I love."

"It's not a competition; it doesn't have to be one or the other," he says.

I sniffle. "Perhaps, I just want the past to remain in the past and focus on the present- on us."

Cradling my chin, his thumb skates across the damp skin. "Our baby is part of us." My lips quiver and sweetly his thumb flits across them. "Don't downplay the significance of the necklace or its importance to you. I saw how you'd clutch the locket when you thought I wasn't looking. Like it was the most precious thing you owned. I wasn't there when it counted the most; when you needed me when our baby needed me. But I love him too Anastasia so I get it- the sentimental value. Keeping it doesn't diminish what we're building, it strengthens it." His hand falls to his side, but he keeps his eyes pinned on me.

I'm so in love with him and if possible, he's made me fall even further. "What are you doing home? I thought you had a meeting," I say in a strangled voice.

Smoothing his palms over my face, he rubs the moisture away, his lips quirking up into a playful smile. "Jacket's too far." Teasingly, he says pointing to the stool with his head and I can't help it. I giggle. "Hmm, I love that sound." His smile widens. "Just so you know, I see what you're doing, but I'll bite. I couldn't get you off my mind so half way to Grey House I had Taylor turn the car around."

Sniffling, I lift my shoulders. "What can I say you got me?" Dropping them, I meet his gaze. "I thought you said the meeting couldn't be rescheduled." Unable to look him in the eyes for too long, I distract him with the idle chit chat.

"It couldn't so I canceled it. There's no meeting more important to me than you. And from the looks of things, it's a good thing that I did.

Christian hustles back, throwing his arm on top of the sofa and drawing up my legs I curl into a ball next to him. Finding a safe passage in his arms, I relax. Some. "Thank you," I whisper and his hand slides up and down my bare forearm feeling the goose pimples.

"Cold."

"No."

He sighs. "You don't have to thank me, you know."

"I know."

He tilts his head down. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Then talk to me. 30 minutes later and I still have no clue to what has you so upset to almost distraught."

"I'm scared." The words slip out of my mouth.

Peering through my lashes, I try to get a glimpse of his visage but all that's in my line of sight is the space between his elbow and forearm. He's running his hand through his hair. "Believe it or not, I'm scared too. Because your silence leaves me to draw my own conclusion and I don't like where the clues are pointing. Instinctively, his fingers sink into my skin; there's nominal pain. I wiggle my arm forcing him to loosen his grip. "I conclude that your hatred for security isn't behind the flood of tears. It's far deeper that. It's what I'd long suspected." My ears perk up. "The tension I witnessed gives credence to an idea I'd thought as possible but farfetched. But if you think about it, it makes perfect sense." I squirm in his arms. "The timing lines up; you two were at Harvard during the same period." Inwardly, I cringe as Christian bolsters his claim. He's getting close and the thought is petrifying.

Tremors bolt through me, but I manage to somehow keep my wits about me hanging on to his every word. Lowering his head Christian searches my face for clues and I do my darnedest not to give him any. He's cracked the door, and I should take the opening, but I'm too much of a coward. And with the vision of us grumbling before my eyes, I listen as with the skills of a seasoned prosecutor, Christian lays out his circumstantial evidence. Expertly, he pieces the jigsaw together while I work out a way to crush it.

I gulp, swallowing the lump at the base of my throat. "I don't know what you're eluding to." My voice cracks.

Abruptly, he sits forward dragging his arm from behind me. "Come on Anastasia, don't be coy. It's Luke. I'm talking about Luke." My tears instantaneously dry up; Christian stops dithering on the name going all in on the accusation. I don't recall moving a muscle, but I'm at his eye level. "I need you to be honest with me." He is stern, but not harsh. "Luke Sawyer is this mystery ex-boyfriend?"

I slap my hand on top of his. "Christian." His name is a prayer on my lips and he decimates my heart when he yanks his hand back.

"You must take me for a fucking fool." Christian booms, leaping to his feet. "And so does he." His every word is dripping with contempt. "I will fucking kill him," he bellows, his incendiary words sound more like a promise, than an empty threat. Scowling at me, in the same breath, he hollers for Mr. Taylor.

Any cogent thought disappears and all I see is blood on my hands. My shorts rise, as anxiously I scoot to the edge of the sofa, stopping shy of standing. I can't. My legs are like jelly. "Copper." I blurt out at the same time Mr. Taylor appears at the edge of the living room. He doesn't say anything right away, his eyes zone in on his boss, who's about to blow. Shock and disbelief crowd Christian's vision, as rage overtakes him.

"Sir," Mr. Taylor calls, but Christian doesn't budge, his laser-like focus is fixed on me. I'm intimidated by the blistering stare, but I don't avert my gaze; bravery in the face of his indignation is made easier because I'm seated. There's less worry of wilting under his intense scrutiny. "Mr. Grey." Mr. Taylor shouts. The third time is the charm, Christian's head jerk's in his direction and I let out the breath I'd been holding. "Sir. You called."

"You can leave Jason." Christian barks. "I don't need you after all. In fact, why don't you take Gail to the movies or something?" He throws out, his head snapping back to me. "I need to be alone with my girlfriend." Mockingly, he spits out his fingers clenching in and out of a fist.

"Are you sure Sir?" Mr. Taylor says, his eyes squarely on me and I'm the center of attention of two alpha males.

Christian spins around, Mr. Taylor's eyes stay on me. "Yes Jason, I'm sure," Christian shouts, but Mr. Taylor doesn't flinch. He maintains his stoic pose and silently I motion to him with my head assuring him that I'm okay. It is only then that he retreats, diffusing the standoff.

The sound of the elevator interrupts the stillness in the room, but not Christian's stern, unblinking stare. "You lied."

Bawling, I mutter, "I'm sorry." It's garbled but conveys my sincerity. "Say something."

"What would you like for me to say, Anastasia, seeing that I've been begging you to do the exact same thing for the last hour? "He storms to the bank of windows, I stay on the sofa rotating my body so I can follow him with my eyes. "That. Prick," he says bitterly, "he's the Prick you were seeing." His blatant disdain for Copper is evident. The veins protruding from his forehead is proof.

"Y-." His booming voice cuts me off.

"That wasn't a question!" Closing his eyes, Christian inhales sharply.

"I'm sorry," I murmur. He visibly recoils, his eyes shooting open boring into me.

"Sorry," he says sardonically. "Wasn't it you who said sorry isn't enough?" Reveling in using my words to his advantage, Christian glowers at me. "You lied to my face. Again." He seethes, happily reminding me of my past transgressions.

"I know, but you have to see my position. When I was supposed to tell you? I thought you were going to kill him."

His nostrils flare. "Let's see," He growls. "What about when I asked you. Over. And over. And over." To drive his point home, he pauses. "Or any fucking time during the last 72 hours." The steam emanating from Christian is tangible, but heat isn't fueling it- cold fury is. "Regardless, my reaction to the truth isn't a justification for you to lie to me." He berates me and a dubious smirk creeps across his face. "As it turned out he wasn't invading my territory, I was invading his."

"It wasn't like that."

"And I should believe you why? What was it like Anastasia? Explain it to me, because the way I see it, it's precisely how it was. He's the reason you were so anxious to get rid of me."

"No," I cry out. "I didn't lie about expecting Copper-."

He roars interrupting me and I jump in my seat. "Don't. You. Dare. Let. His. Name. Leave. Your. Mouth?" He emphasizes every word and his diabolical tone is aggressive. This new bellicose attitude marks a change in the tenor of the discussion; he's gone from angry to belligerent.

"W-We," I say faltering, "we'd broken up long before that night, so I had no reason to think he'd show up at my door. I definitely didn't anticipate the kiss." My voice breaks ever so often. "You have to believe me." The irony of the statement isn't lost, in the process of selling him a bill of goods, I've bought the twisted tale of deception as the truth.

Christian advances and when he closes the distance, his mouth quirks up into a nefarious grin. "Okay." Dropping his hands to the armrest, he cranes his neck getting in my face and involuntarily I shrink back. "The snotty nose, college Prick explains the ex, what explains the tension between you and Luke?"

My stomach flips flops, he's still on the Luke tip; my head bows slightly as I work through my fragmented thoughts. "Sawyer picked up on my distress. I needed someone's opinion and since he knew you, I told him. But I didn't like his answer. You know the rest of the story." The ease at which, I carved together that explanation is scary.

His jaw clenches and Christian releases his grip on the armrest. His body jerks up, and his posture stiffens. "You tell my fucking employee, my personal fucking business on the first fucking day of working with him." He kicks the chair. "The damn story gets better and better." He's pugnacious and I quiver at his combativeness. "You can trust him and not me."

Surprisingly, his trademark, confident tone slips. His voice is unsure, and staring into his gray eyes, the realization is swift. At this moment it's hurt feeding his ire. In his rage my betrayal is palpable. The idea that I could I trust Luke and not him; hurts. "I'm sorry." The cliché is weak, but it's all I have. I want to confess to him, fall into his arms, and let him tell me it's okay; but even in this moment of weakness, Christian won't see it my way. It's not how he's wired. Leaving little doubt that there a sentiment that could soothe the kind of pain I see in him anyway, it's too steeped in history.

He eyes me warily. "Sorry. There's that word again," he says snidely. "All of this could've been avoided if you'd just been honest."

"You have a quick fuse-."

"Damn right I do, but that doesn't let you off the hook. Lying is the wedge that drove us apart in the first place."

Using my knuckles, I wipe my cheeks. "I wasn't thinking. You have to forgive me."

"Forgive you. While I was pleading my case, dying to prove myself worthy of you, you were perpetuating a lie. Another lie Anastasia."

"Christian don't," I plead, "let's not go there. I'm so ashamed."

"I know the feeling; shame and regret have been constant companions since I've met you. But here's the difference between you and me. I'm doing my level best to change the past and you're hell bent on repeating it." He scoffs. "BDSM has it detractors, but at its core, the lifestyle is unflinching in its attitude towards honesty. It's one of the countless reasons I'm drawn to it. One thing I've learned in my life is that if you don't have the truth you have nothing. It's why I was upfront with you. I was concern about your reaction, hell I was mortified. I was on the verge of losing the only woman I'd ever loved. But I'd spent the first half of my life surrounded by lies, so, in the end, I knew I'd rather lose you with the truth than keep you with a lie." Tugging on the end of his tie, Christian drags it through his collar tossing it to the side chair. "You deserved honesty, to make your own choice. So, did I. My reaction to the truth is on me. You're not telling it is on you so don't conflate the two." Without saying another word, he strolls out of the room.

I scramble to my feet, but they won't move. "Christian," I cry out as he disappears around the corner. Clasping my hands over my face, I sink back down to the sofa.

Water seeps through my fingers draining down my arms, some of it landing on my thighs. Resting my elbows in the wetness, I mull over the choice I'd made. Sure it's a knock on my trustworthiness, a cruel resolution I had to reach to save him. I have no doubt that Christian would kill Luke or have him killed.

The thought of losing him engulfs me and the need to see him is overwhelming. To touch him, if for nothing than to remind me that for a nano-second he was mine and he loved me. And I was happy. Leaping from the sofa, I steady my wobbly legs and start walking, picking up the pace the closer I get to the door. Running out of hallway I pause at the doorway ogling his muscular back. Christian has divested himself of his slacks and is in jeans. A blue t- shirt is imprisoning his arms waiting to cover his sculpted body, so racing across the threshold I slip my arms around his waist.

I rest the side of my face on his back, and the tears roll across the bridge of my nose to his bare skin. "I'm sorry," I say in a hushed tone. The phrase is on a loop on my tongue.

Simultaneously, he slides the t-shirt over his head and arms then he untangles mine. "Not now," he snarls.

A sob catches in my throat, and I swivel to the front in time to watch him leave. My heart crashing against my rib cage, I trail behind him out of the room that last night was awash with light and is now filled with darkness. I come to the end of the hall and my eyes pan the cavernous space. It's inhospitable, empty and I don't belong, but I don't have anywhere to run. I'm stuck.

My knees hit the edge of the sofa, twisting my body I collapse down on it. Reaching to the side table, I pick up my phone. Whimpering, I press the number and as it rings, I gather myself.

"Dad."

"Kiddo. Are you okay?"

"I'm all right."

"You're far from alright. You're crying."

"Allergies. It's that time of year so don't worry about me."

"Kiddo, I will always worry about you."

"That's why you're my daddy."

"You damn right," Ray says trying to stifle his emotions. "So, what day are you coming to see your old man so he can see for himself that you're okay?"

"You're far from old. And about that, it's why I'm calling. I'm in Seattle."

"Seattle! I thought you were staying home for Spring break."

"That was the plan. But, I'll tell you all about it when I see you."

"The last time you uttered those words you were pregnant."

I sigh. "I promise, that's not the case this time. If it all works out, I think you'll be pleased."

"If you say so. I won't pry, I'll wait for you to tell me. But kiddo if you need me to come get you. I will."

I hold back my tears. "Ray, that means so much to me, but I'm okay. I promise." I lower the phone and let the tears flow freely.

* * *

**Luke's POV**

"Fuck." My head falls back, as my erection pulsates filling the damp towel. Regulating my breathing, I bring my head forward and curse her name. I cleaned up and frustrated I let the dirty towel fly. It sails beyond the hamper, landing in a heap in the corner. I leave it and get up from the edge of the bed for the bathroom. Soon as I hit the door, the residual steam greets me.

Quickly I wash my hand and get out of the sweat box. Back in the bedroom, I grab my brief from the bed dragging them on and I do same with my jeans. Walking to the other side, I pick up the t-shirt I threw there slipping it over my head. I slide my arms through the holes and tug on the hem as I trek to the dresser. Pulling the shirt down all the way, I grab the brush and in the mirror, a glimmer catches my eyes.

Rifling through the mess on the dresser, I find it. The pendant, you bought for her and she threw away, my subconscious reminds me. Setting the brush down, I pick the piece of jewelty up and reminiscence. Opening the locket, first I inspect her smiling face, then the sonogram. The baby that didn't get a chance to experience her kind of love. And selfishly I wondered if he'd survived would we. "Grey. Fucking Christian Grey." How to compete with a man who has more money than the original boy king, a mug prettier than Cleopatra, and a bravado the size of Caesar's.

Benji whines, disturbing my hapless musing. "You thinking what I'm thinking?" He sits up and his head tilts to the side as if he understands my words. Clamping the pendant shut, I slip it into my pocket and rub him on the head. He may not be communicative, but he feels her loss. "Why so sad she still loves you." Great, now I'm jealous of a dog.

I get Benji situated with food and sit down at the small table in the kitchen. Sliding the necklace from my pocket, I hold it up by the chain letting the pendant dangle. The memories of how it came to be in my possession flood my brain. The sound of the metal crashing to the concrete floor when she threw it at me, her words "don't touch me again", and her expression when she said them. All plowing into my heart like a dull serrated knife.

Like a pendulum the locket swings from side to side and with every movement the answer becomes clearer. You don't compete. Tugging on the silver chain, I pull the necklace into my palm, and pick up the cell from the table.

"J.T."

* * *

**CPOV**

Anastasia is curled up on the sofa asleep, in the fetal position. I'd stand here and watch her but she must be uncomfortable, her head resting crookedly on her folded arm. So walking quietly across the living room, I kneel on one knee at her head shoving her loose strands back so I can have an unobstructed view of her face.

I chuckle, when she swats at my fingers, but grazes her face instead. "Hey, sleepy head wake up," I whisper in her ear and tilt back to watch her eyes peel open.

"Christian." Sleepily, she whispers.

I sweep my fingers across her forehead moving a phantom hair. "Yes, baby it's me."

Slowly, she comes up on her elbow. "You forgive me. I'm sorry," she says in a strangled voice, her tears starting up again.

With my thumb, I wipe the droplets from her under her eyes. "I know you are. And yes, I forgive you." Her eyes sparkle, and she sits up a little straighter.

"Really." The wishful lithe to her voice speaks to her youth and innocence. Something I tend to forget. Despite her quick wit, intelligent mind, and sexy body Anastasia is young. The universe has a twisted sense of humor; I didn't date girls in their teens when I was a teenager, so what happens I fall in love with a teenager when I'm almost thirty.

I flash her a boyish grin. "I didn't want this to ruin our first official day as boyfriend and girlfriend."

She smiles with her whole face. "Aha."

Standing up on both knees, I stare into her blue eyes, redden by tears and sleep. Still it does nothing to detract from the clarity or from her beauty. "You don't get it. I might've been late to this whole romance thing, but I'm hopeless now. I'm in love with you. Hopelessly."

Tilting forward, Anastasia flings her arms around my neck. "I love you too."

Closing my eyes, I clutch her tighter to my chest. "Good." I breathe in her scent; light perspiration, figs, and Anastasia. "Promise, not to lie to me again." Untangling my arms, I grip her shoulders and hold her back staring into her face. "We have, to be honest with each other if we're going to make this work. I'm jealous, and that jealousy is going to manifest itself in ugly ways; verbal assaults, financial annihilation, and physical torture to name a few. Still, not a rationale for you lying to me."

Her messy ponytail bobbles, as her head moves up and down. "I understand."

Chuckling, I throw my head back. "I'm not reprimanding you," I say bringing it forward. "Yet you look as though you're being scolded." My hands slip from her shoulders and I tap the end of her nose.

"If you were, I couldn't blame you."

I come to my feet and offer her my hand. "Come. I ran a bath for you."

"You did."

"Why the disbelieve, I just told poured my heart out to you. Besides it was part of my original plan, and I think you could use the pampering. I was gruff so I have some making up to do."

Anastasia gives me her hand. "I deserved it."

"Maybe, but I want to worship at your feet, not make you cry." Tugging on her hand, I haul her to my chest.

Her breathing hitches. "If that's your goal, you'd better stop with the sweet talk."

"Aww, Ms. Steele you're too easy, I wasn't even trying." Lowering my head, I nibble on the soft flesh of her earlobe. "Hmm," I moan as Anastasia rubs against me and I seductively whisper in her ear, "let's get you in the bathtub. I'll wash your back. Hair. Then I'll leave you to soak. The room's set up for you with candles and music."

She inclines back, her pupils are dilated. "That's it?" I wiggle my eyebrows.

* * *

When I come out of the bathroom, Christian is deep in thought. "Hi," I say.

His head pops up and his fingers curl clutching something in his palm. I'm unable to discern what or the expression he's wearing. "Hi," he says and he hesitates. "Did you go to the Hampton's with Copper or alone?"

Nervous, I tuck the towel tighter around my naked body. "What?" I feel exposed.

He rubs his free hand over his hair. "The pendant." His fingers unfurl and in his palm, the shiny object comes into view. "I was looking at it and it hit me."

I close the distance between us. "Where did you get that?"

He glances down and then back up to me. "Luke found it, and called Jason."

"So, Mr. Taylor and Ms. Jones are home?"

"Yes. Would you like to answer my question now, no changing the subject? Did you go to the Hamptons with Copper or alone?"

"The Hamptons?" I repeat, trying to buy time.

"To run down a copy of your sonogram, we had to go though a hospital in the Hamptons. And seeing your picture and the sonogram in the locket reminded me of it." I swallow. "Remember. The truth no matters how hard it is."

I remove the towel from my head and cling to it for support. "With him." I'm cautious not to use his name. "I had an accident, so we went to the hospital. It's how I found out I was pregnant."

"I forgot about the accident. You never told me what happened."

"No. I'm okay so it doesn't matter."

He hands the necklace to me. "See, that wasn't so bad," he says giving me a peck on the forehead before walking by me.

I glare down at the piece of jewelry. "I don't want it," I say turning to my front to face him.

"Okay," he says stretching his hand out for me to give it to him. "You haven't eaten so Gail is making a snack for us before dinner. Get dressed and I'll meet you in the kitchen."

"Alright," I say relieved that he didn't push me on the issue, delving further. But the relief is short- lived, guilt crashes the party, and as soon as he clears the door I collapse on the bed sobbing uncontrollably.


	42. Chapter 42: Ordinary People

**Chapter 42:** Ordinary People Wednesday 2

**Disclaimer: **FSOG belongs to EL James

**A/N: **Thank you for reading, reviewing and following. Please enjoy.

In a sweeping motion, Christian's arm gestures towards the sofa. "Dinner was great." Concurring I take a seat "Then it always is," he adds.

He throws an arm across the backrest, inclining into the sofa. "What?"

"Nothing." He crosses his legs resting his ankle on his knee. "Just thinking how lucky I am," he says just as Mr. Taylor strolls into the room.

His body jerks forwards, arm flies, and his legs uncross as he plants both feet firmly on the floor. "Here you go Sir," Mr. Taylor says, thrusting a sheet of paper at him. Scooting to the edge of the sofa Christian snatches it from his hand coming to his feet. Perusing it, he starts pacing. I can't make-out the document, but I have some idea.

Breaking Christian makes eye contact with Mr. Taylor.

"Thank you, Jason."

"Ms. Steele," Mr. Taylor says. I aim to correct him; Christian must sense it, his eyes dart to mine giving me a stern warning.

I'd also like to apologize, but Christian's strong rebuke has me intimidated. So, instead, my mouth widens into a broad smile, which hopefully says what I can't. "Good night Mr. Taylor," I say, and he exits.

The paper flutters as Christian holds it up in the air. His focus strays from the document to me. "This is the NDA from your boy." In this context, boy has a pejorative connotation, and he knows it.

My hands clench into a fist and using them as leverage I press down into the edge of the sofa standing up. "Finally."

"What did you say to get him to sign?" My mouth opens, but I clamp it shut when he opens his. "If I'd known what I know now, I'd taken care of it myself." Christian quips.

In two long strides, I'm at him. "You're not going to hurt him are you?"

He crumples the paper, hurling it across the room. "If I were, he'd be dead." His tone is unapologetic.

"Christian." I sigh. "You scare me with talk like that." Hair gets stuck to my lip; I peel it off, and it dances in the wind.

Peering at me, he singes my skin with his gaze it is so fiery. "You should be scared." I shudder. "As much as, it pains me that he's heard the noises you make when you come, for you, I'll spare him."

On the surface the statement is misogynist, but for Christian it's a heartfelt sentiment; therefore, I take it in the vain it's given. "Thank you. I appreciate that you're so protective of me. It's what I remembered most about you, your ability to make me feel safe. But Christian the threat of physical violence is beneath you."

I study his expression, and in his troubled gray eyes, the internal war he's waging is visible. "I left you in the lobby of the Heathman, went upstairs and plotted how I was going to exact revenge on the people that had failed you so miserably when you were in the Foster Care system. That included the Social Workers whose responsibilities were finding you a safe nurturing environment and the families that were tasked with being that safe-haven."

"What did you do?"

His eyes are haunted. "I destroyed them." His voice void of emotion sends A tremor through me. "Don't worry; I didn't harm anyone," he says an evil smirk creeping across his lips, "not physically anyway."

"Again Christian, what did you do?" My voice is shaky but forceful.

"I had the Social Workers fired. They had no business being around children in the first place." He sneers.

"And the families?"

I'm transfixed, imprisoned by his cold and distant gaze. "I removed the men from the homes, ruined their careers, and had their freedom taken away."

"You were thorough." I parse my words carefully; his mood is unreadable. "Took away their freedom, how?"

"The wives were more appreciate than you; I was an answer to their prayers."

"I bet; I'm sure you threw money at the situation."

"Damn right. I set them up financially, established educational funds for all their school age children, and made sure their deadbeat husbands were gone for good. So you can drop the judgmental attitude."

Rising to my tiptoes, I cup the back of his head. "I'm not judging; you did right by those women. And me." My fingers dance in the hairs at the nape of his neck and his curl around my wrists gripping them pulling my hands back. My feet lowers connecting with the floor.

When I lock eyes with his, the iciness cuts through me like a chard of glass. "I didn't hurt those bastards because I suddenly grew a conscious." His nostril flares. "I didn't want to soil my shirt. Their blood wasn't worth it." I yank my wrists from his hands. "Instead, I had Barney sweep their computers for child pornography, so I could turn the evidence over to the Authorities. The intimates would take care of it for me. In prison a child molestation wrap; is tantamount to a death sentence. " He pauses. "Still think murder is beneath me."

"I need some water," I croak. Wheeling around, I scurry to the kitchen.

Christian follows. "Anastasia?" He calls.

Ripping the refrigerator door back, I digest his words. Scanning the contents, I land on the bottles of water in the center of everything. Plucking one from the shelf, I back out of the frigid air bumping into Christian. The door slams and he nab the bottle from my hand. "What do you want from me, Christian? Do you want to be the dragon or the dragon slayer? Because I don't know anymore." He hands the opened bottle to me, the cap clicking on the floor. I lift the drink to my lips letting the cold water glide down my throat soothing the scab he's picked. "I thought I'd put distance between me and my past. But it's all flooding back like a torrent." Christian takes the bottle from my hands setting it down on the counter enveloping me in his arms.

"You're safe." Soothing me, he runs his hand down my hair. "I'll never let anyone hurt you again."

Instinctively, I incline back in his arms my head jutting up so he can see me. "No. Enough!" I sniffle. "I don't want to be the girl who needs rescuing." Before he can articulate a proper response, the elevator pings at the same time Mr. Taylor reappears.

The doors slide open, and two nattily attired young men emerge, pushing a rack with two huge garment bags. Christian untangles his arms, and as if we weren't in the middle of a heated discussion, he winds his hand around mine leading me out of the kitchen to where the men are standing. Mr. Taylor takes a defensive stance in front of them blocking his boss from their line of sight.

"Thank you," Christian says to no one in particular, but Mr. Taylor reacts, angling his body he feels for the zipper on one of the bags.

Inch by inch the zipper descends, unveiling exquisite articles of clothing, and I slap my free hand to my mouth. "Christian." I gasp, and my head zooms up to his, a lot of the strain has left his face.

He waggles his brow. "Whew! At last my name isn't an expletive on your tongue." I squeeze the hand I'm holding; I prefer sardonic Christian to his other incarnation.

"I can't believe you did this. I have clothes."

The big reveal complete; Christian gives Mr. Taylor an approving nod, and he escorts the young men to the elevator, where I witness him pulling out a wad of cash from his pocket. Dividing the bundle, he hands one to each.

I avert my eyes from the momentary distraction moseying closer to the rack. My fingertips graze the fabric of an outfit. "You are maddening Mr. Grey. You are out of control."

"No. I'm in love."

Mr. Taylor announces himself, interrupting the moment. "Yes Taylor," Christian says, never taking his eyes off me.

"5:30 Sir."

"5:30?" Christian repeats, as if his brow lift is the passcode that let me in on their secret.

"For what?"

"You're running with me in the morning."

"I am?"

"Yes," he says bitterly, and I bristle at his sudden brusque tone. "Taylor, 5:30 is fine."

"Are we okay?" My voice wavers. He's so mercurial it's hard to keep up, just a moment ago he was playing defense- now I am.

"We're okay," Christian says wrapping me up, and wanting so badly to believe in the fantasy I ignore the internal rumblings falling against his chest. Leaning down, he kisses me on the top of my head. "I love you. The clothes are just my way of apologizing."

"For earlier-."

"For everything."

I bury my face in the crook of his arm. "You've apologized. I'm the one who should be apologizing." My voice is muffled, so I rotate sides. "Sure, it had nothing to do with my clothes."

"Maybe," he says deadpan and pushing back on his arms, I gain the space to swat him on the shoulder. "Ouch. You asked."

His arms fall away, I pivot forward and skim the dresses, pants, and tops in my reach. "You don't approve of my clothes."

"I approve. Very much." He leans back, his eyes going directly to my rear. "I think your ass is perfection in jeans. But I'd like to see you in some other things."

From the rack, I pluck the pale blue ensemble the standing out in the mostly muted pallet of black, gray, and ivory. "Silks and Satins."

"Among other fabrication." He pulls out a shirt dress. "Like this charcoal number, it will show off your legs."

"Hmf. Charcoal, the rich man's grey."

He holds up the tag on the dress. "No, charcoal as in the color description."

Parting the clothes on the rack, I ignore his sensible response, placing the nightgown and robe set back. Then I take the dress from him. "It is nice. " Appreciatively, I smile. "Everything is nice."

Standing behind me Christian encircles his arm around my waist, and he rests his chin on the top of my head. "See that wasn't so hard, that's how you accept a present." Mr. Taylor clears his throat and Christian's chin lifts.

Walking further into the room, he informs Christian that Mrs. Jones will put the clothing away in the morning before Christian can issue the edict. Christian moves me to the side, giving him access to the rack, and he hauls it out of sight.

"How does he do that?" I whisper.

Clinging to my waist, he starts walking me back to the living room. "He's good at his job. It's the kind of CPO and principle relationship I was hoping you'd develop with Luke."

I angle my head up. "Sooo, you're keeping Sawyer?"

"Why wouldn't I?" We reach the sofa, and he waits for me to sit before he does.

"Can I ask you question without an explosion."

"Please don't let it be about Luke." He throws both arms across the back of the sofa. "Go ahead, Anastasia." He sighs.

"Is this what your father warned me about?"

Removing his arms, he shifts his body, so we're face to face. "I don't know Anastasia you'll have to ask my father. I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."

My teeth sink into my bottom lip. "All of it; the clothes, the security, the power."

"Define power."

"Your scorch earth approach, don't you think it's a bit much."

He inhales sharply. "I don't. I make no apologies for my actions when it comes to you or our relationship. I'll do whatever it takes when either is threatened. I have a lot of money, which equates to even more power-."

"And you're drunk with it?" As the words topple out of my mouth, I'm beset with a sense of foreboding.

He folds his arms across his chest. "This can't be about, the incompetent social workers and child molesters. I'm no different from any other man that would protect his woman-."

"Woman." I huff. "That's the problem when you see me; I'm that fragile little girl you need to protect from her shadow instead of a woman that's your equal."

"You didn't let me finish. I have more money-."

"Then God," I say unable to resist the temptation.

"Constant interruptions and you have to ask why I treat you the way I do-like a child." My face falls, his lips quirk up, and somehow we erupt into easy laughter. His eyes drop to my mouth, and cupping my chin he flicks his thumb over my lips. "That sound is music to my ear." His thumb falls away, and the laughter fades. "It's why I do it. Go overboard. I have so much to atone for; I'm doing it the only way I know how. Making others pay for their sins against you and mine."

"Is that why you forgave me so easily."

His eyes flicker with resignation. "Yes. If you could forgive me, surely I could find it in my heart to forgive, after all; it's the heart you built."

Throwing myself at him, I fling my arms around his neck and whisper, "I love you." My arms slide away as he pushes me back plying my lips with urgent, fervent kisses.

Mr. Grey echoes in our ears, and we separate. "Do you need anything else," Mr. Taylor says.

Christian's fingers knead my shoulders, and I melt. "Thank you, Taylor. Inform Luke about tomorrow. For Miss Steele's safety, I'd prefer to have both of you on the run." I smile warmly at the gesture; it's his way of assuring me I've satisfied his inkling, and he's put it behind him.

"I already have." Of course, he has, does Christian have his brain hotwired to the man. Regardless, I'm thrilled that he has someone looking out for him the way he looks out for me.

Mr. Taylor disappears to his bat cave. I have to get acclimated to how the 1% percent lives, I think to myself. Tugging on my wrist Christian pulls me out of my head and onto his lap. "Are you prepared for your slumber party with Mia tomorrow?"

"Kinda. I'm excited about getting to know the first girl to steal your heart."

His head cocks to the side. "That would be Portia Mitchel."

I stare at him. "Who."

"Portia Mitchel. We were in the 8th grade together. I was mesmerized by her brown skin and long flowing braids. And her eyes. I'd get lost in them. It's a wonder I passed; I was so enthralled with her I'd stare at her all day. She and the horrendous lunches were the only reasons I went to school. She reminded me of the beautiful African women that _National Geographic_ would feature from time to time. In fact, my nickname for her was African Warrior Princess."

He's speaking so freely, of his past I want to keep him talking. "You're lauding some heavy praise on her. Did she know your feelings?"

"I was socially awkward, and she was out of my league. She didn't know I existed."

"I bet she does now."

"I'm doubtful; my last name was different."

"But your handsome face is still the same." His ears flush red.

"Handsome, eh."

"You're blushing Mr. Grey." He flashes me a boy next door smile. "Yes, you're very handsome. The African American girls in my business class will be elated to know that you don't discriminate. Your taste in women has fueled many a debate when you come up in class, or there's a picture of you in some magazine."

"It's just a pretty face."

I roll my eye. "Christian Grey God sculpted you and created everyone else." He chortles. "Stop laughing you are perfection."

"Yet, I'm not worthy of you."

The corners of my mouth curve upward, but they don't reach my eyes. "Were any of your subs black?"

"Nope." Clutching my hand, he brings it to his lips and gazes at me reflectively. "I didn't bring the topic up to start a conversation about me." He plants a kiss at the bottom of my palm at the top of my wrist.

"I know, but I'm happy you are sharing. It's the first time you've spoken so fondly of any part of your childhood. Normally you paint such a bleak picture. This snippet gives me a different glimpse into your past. It's an insight into you, not simply your circumstance; you were hearts and flowers long before me."

"No. My heart has never beat for anyone but you."

"It's okay Christian; somehow it warms me to know that you had that piece of heaven in all that hell."

He pushes, my hair behind my ear. "You're right my sister is pretty loveable, despite her annoying ways." Without warning he switches topic- I hit a nerve. So, I relent.

"You're her big brother; she's your little sister it's the law of nature to feel that way."

He fidgets with my hair. "Is it natural that I'm jealous of her? This week was designed to be about me."

"It is about you. You'll have me for the rest of the week."

"Hmm." he groans. "What if I wanted a lifetime?"

I clasp my hands in front of me. "Christian, you can't say things like that and expect me not to be affected."

* * *

We finish stretching our quads and Christian pulls me to his body. "I love waking up with you." Peppering kisses along my neck, he ends at my lips. For Christian, it's a chase kiss, and cognizant of Luke I resist running my hands through his hair, deepening it. "Come, lets gets started, I have a meeting to get to, and you have a Mia to get to."

Luke walks up to us. "Mr. Grey, JT said you wanted to see me." Christian is clipped when he addresses him. I'm nervous, but willingly I step back so they can talk in private. As they converse, I contemplate Luke's nickname for Mr. Taylor and consider calling him the same, but dismiss the idea because of the ire and suspicion it would draw from Christian.

Their conversation is quick. Wasting no more time we get into our places and start running- Christian and me in front, Mr. Taylor and Luke behind us. The city hasn't the fully awaken, but there's the scattered noises of the garbage trucks, buses, and earlier risers. There's still a dampness in the in air, and every time my feet hit the pavement the chill from the concrete penetrates my bones. Or maybe it's Christian's frigid reaction to Luke; that is the pin prick I feel every time my feet hit the sidewalk. Another reminder of my deception, and of how volatile and fluid the situation is.

"The temperature has dropped some," I say.

Christian holds up, and everyone stops. "Is everything okay?" Mr. Taylor inquires.

"Anastasia is cold," Christian says.

I roll my eyes at him. "I'm not." Luke eyes me suspiciously. "I was simply pointing out the obvious. The temperature has dropped."

Dismissively, Christian waves off his henchmen. "We'll cut it in half- 5 miles, instead of the 10." Mr. Taylor and Luke retreat to their places, and we start up again.

I hate him; I'm struggling, and he's barely broke a sweat. "How many is this?"

"About 2." His head swivels my way. "How are you?"

"If you were sweating more, breathing harder, I'd be much better."

He laughs. "Stamina."

I cut my eyes at him. "On top of it, you have the energy to laugh." I huff. "Life's not fair."

"Baby, my pace is faster and harder."

"Does, everything with you have to lead to sex." I pant.

"I was talking about my running pace. I'm way behind my time."

"You should look her up or have you?"

"We're not talking about running anymore are we?"

"No."

"That's what I thought."

"Christian, you should reach out to her."

"Anastasia, you're so different than me. I want to pummel any man from your past, and you want to embrace the women from mine."

"Correction, one woman." I hold up my finger. "Not women. Like I said last night it's sweet, you felt passionately, and deeply about her. It contradicts so much of what you've told me about your childhood."

He slows. "I felt a lot of things deeply and passionately; the twinge of pain in my belly from the lack of food, the burn of cigarettes being snuffed out on my chest, and the absence of my mother's love. So, let me put an end to your romantic rumblings. Portia was an anomaly, not the norm. My mother was a crack whore, I lived in squalor, and was hungry all the time- that was my childhood," he says jetting off. Mr. Taylor sprints past me after him and Luke, comes up beside me slowing to my pace.

"What was that all about?" Luke says.

"Me not knowing when to say when," I say, my heart aching for the little boy who resides in the body of the strong, resilient man running away- from what. I'm not sure he knows.

"About yesterday."

"No. Not what you're thinking. Anyway. What were you two talking about?"

"Nothing important."

My feet make contact with the pavement jarring my body, the one reminder that I'm still running. Suddenly, I've become numb. "He knows," drifts out of my mouth.

"What?"

"About you." Luke slows to a crawl. "Keep running; you're still alive. I told him it was Copper," I say in one breath, it's a wonder I didn't pass out.

Luke nearly stumbles. "Are you crazy? Why not toss a grenade, better yet yell fire in a crowded theatre they're just as nuclear?"

To avoid falling too far behind, and catch the attention of Christian and Mr. Taylor we pick up our speed. "He was suspicious; I had to squelch it."

"By lying."

My head rotates to him. "Yes, to spear your life," I grunt.

"What about Copper's life."

"When did you start caring about Copper."

"I don't. It doesn't mean I want to see him in Grey's crosshairs."

"Well, you can stop worrying, it's resolved," I say taking off sprinting.

"What's resolved?"

Christian and Mr. Taylor are far ahead of us, so they don't hear him yelling at me. Eventually, he does catch up, but we run in silence the rest of the way. "You can't run away from the problem." Luke huffs just as Escala comes into view. I take off at full speed as if I'm trying to prove him wrong.

When I reach the building, I collapse into Christian's waiting arms. "You did it baby," he says pulling my sweaty body to his drenched chest, and his scent fills my nose. The perspiration dripping from his body is doing nothing to dull the smell of him.

"Don't placate me."

"You're mad," he says tightening his embrace. "I knew you were safe with Luke; I needed to exert some excess energy."

He releases me, and we continue talking as we cooldown."

"I'm the one who pushed too hard, "I say, "and I'm the one who hit the wall before we started." I joke.

"I'm setting you up with my trainer. You need stamina." Precipitously Christian stops marching in place grabbing me by the shoulders stilling me. Leaning down, he whispers in my ear," now I'm talking about sex." The warmth of his caramel smooth voice makes every muscle in the pit of my stomach clench. "Taylor we're going up." Christian peeks at his watch. "I'll be ready at 8:30."

Smirking, I stare up at him. "Someone's cocky."

He pushes the door back, holding it open for me. "More like confident," he boasts as I duck under his arm.

* * *

As Christian dresses, my back shimmies up the headboard, and I ogle him. He's adjusting his tie, his deft fingers gliding down the length of it smoothing it over his white shirt. He's stunning, in black on black, the crisp white shirt adding just the right amount of sophistication and sex appeal. Our relationship is so young; I'm still getting used to him as the other half of our couple.

"You, look handsome," I purr raising my knees to my chest hooking my arms around them.

"And you looked well fucked."

"Christian."

"Baby, you should be used to my language by now. Though I worship at your feet, this isn't a house of worship."

"Speaking of which, have you ever been inside a church?"

Playful Christian is out and on his way to the bed, he gives me a lighthearted scowl. Sidestepping, he barely misses the small box I threw to the floor, and I wince. "Sorry."

"I'm nimble," he says, bending down retrieving the red box. He sets it on the bedside table and props his knee on the bed causing it to dip.

He leans into me. "More like graceful. Even when you're clumsy, your movement is fluid."

Nudging my arms away, he snakes a hand under the covers. "Too bad I have to go," he murmurs against my lips, his tongue seeking entrance. Kissing me deeply, Christian parts my thighs cupping my wetness. "Hmmm," he moans, "but I have to." His fingers tweak my clitoris before he jerks his hand back.

"Nooo," I growl the bed dipping as he backs off of it coming to his feet.

His eyes roam my sheet cloaked form. "You have some time."

Intentionally I let the sheet slip, revealing my bare chest. "For what?" Seductively, I say.

"Not that." He smirks. "Sleep. My mother isn't expecting you until 1: 00, so I told Luke to be here at 12:30."

Covering back up I tell him, "thank you."

"You're welcome," he says, "Oh, Anastasia, don't touch yourself. All your pleasure is for me." He winks.

"I wasn't planning to, Mr. Sex on Legs."

"Good." Chuckling, he saunters into his closet.

I tug the sheet up to my neck, and the hardness of the stone touches my hand. My fingertips rub over them. "You don't have to buy me things you know," I say to Christian when he reappears.

"Wasn't it you who keeps telling me I have more money than sense."

"Christian, I'm serious." My eyes dart from his closet to my wrist, and back to my décolletage. "The clothes. The bracelet. Now this necklace. I hate to sound like a broken record, but it's too much."

"Anastasia, you're going have to lose that refrain, in the same way, you're going have to get used to my money. They are just an outward expression of my affection not a measure of it. Within themselves, they mean nothing like you said they're things. Some very expensive things that I enjoyed buying for you, that I hoped you might enjoy."

I stop fiddling with the pendant and start fidgeting with my hands. "I do. I-I," I stutter, "like them. A lot. I just think you could put your money to better use."

A gleam in his eyes, Christian stares down at me. "Let me reiterate; there's no better use for my money than spending it on you." He assures me. "But since it worries you; in addition to the work in Africa, I donate to numerous charities nationally and internationally."

"Oh my God, Christian. It just occurred to me, are you invested in Africa because of Portia Mitchel?"

He runs his hand through his hair. "Two things. Portia Mitchel isn't from Africa; she was born and raised in Detroit. It was just a nickname, my pet name for her. Finally, I want you to listen carefully. My work in Sub-Saharan Africa has nothing to do with Portia Mitchel, and everything to do with my goal of eradicating hunger in the region."

I settle against the headboard. "I know, but-."

Christian leans down planting a kiss on my forehead cutting me off. "No buts. You've had your fun, now drop it." Straightening up he walks to the door and circles back. "Don't worry about packing; Gail will do it for you."

"Christian, I can throw a few things into luggage."

"So, can Gail?" he says, disappearing down the hall.

Soon as I hear the elevator whisking him away, like a ninja, I throw the covers back and my legs over the side of the bed. When my feet hit the floor, I luxuriate in the warmth of the hardwood. Heated floors are the bomb; it's a shame everyone can't afford the luxury. Even without slippers, my feet are cozy.

Stomping to the bathroom, I jerk the door back and traipse to the shower. Getting the water toasty, I take a quick one. Drying off, I wrap the absorbent towel around my chest and grab another one for my head. Exiting the bathroom, I go directly to his massive walk-in closet straight to the row of expensive clothing. I flick my fingers over the hangers, checking out the outfits. And as much as it pains me, I have to admit Caroline Acton hit the nail on the head. Minus a piece or two, the clothes are what I'd pick out; simple and classic. Sifting through the rack, I narrow my selection down to the one or two designers I recognize. Pulling a Free People skirt set down, I pick the Tory Burch ballet flats from the multitude of red bottom stilettos.

Dressed, I scamper out of the closet dragging the towel down my hair. It's still damp. Christian wouldn't be happy; I'm going to let it air dry. Smirking to myself, I rake my fingers through the wettish strands celebrating my disobedience. Fashionably attired for my audience, I race back in the closet rolling out another one of Christian's extravagant gifts- a Louis Vuitton overnight bag. Maintaining my defiant streak, I stuff it and roll it down the hall to the kitchen.

"Miss Steele," Mrs. Jones says when she eyes me clutching it. "I was going to pack that for you, I was just waiting for you to come out of the room."

"Mrs. Jones." Recognition dawns.

"Ana." She smiles. "But not in front of Mr. Grey."

"Deal. Now. Despite his belief, I'm not a cripple. I can do things for myself."

"Give him a break Ana; this is new for him. He's a man, give him the space to be one; after all, you hold all the power."

"I'll try."

"Good. Breakfast. What can I get for you?"

"The same as yesterday."

"Fruit?"

"Yes. What do you have?"

Blankly, she stares at me. "Everything and I what we don't have I can have here in ten minutes."

Closing my eyes, I shake my head. "Blueberries are fine." She nods.

By the time, I finish my yogurt and granola, my hair dries, and I comb it with my fingers. Tossing my head back, I flip my hair over adding volume and some polish to the style. Just as I give it a final toss, the elevator arrives delivering Luke.

"Hi, Luke," Mrs. Jones says. "Can I get you something to eat? Breakfast is over, but I can make you a sandwich."

A genuine smile covers his face, and it's nice to see. "Thank you, Gail, I'm good. Ms. Steele and I should get going."

I increase the grip on the luggage handle when he fixes his gaze on me. "We have time; you can eat if you want," I say.

Gail nods her head. "You should take her up on it; you'll need your energy for when Mia Grey starts fawning all over you." The suitcase handle slips from my hand clinking loudly against the marble floor.

Mrs. Jones flinches, and Luke rushes to my aid. "I'll get it," he says.

I glance down, as he glances up and our eyes lock. "Thank you," I say.

He keeps his eyes trained on me; it's like he's discovering a part of me I've never visited; only he knows of its existence. I'm a stranger to my own body, but in front of Mrs. Jones, I pretend not to be phased by his penetrating gaze. "You're welcome," he says straightening his spine. "Should we get going?" He switches the handle from his left hand to his right.

"Please." Suddenly, I'm longing for the privacy of the Audi.

I swing my legs inside the back of the SUV getting comfortable in the leather seat, and Luke closes the door. Hard. In the elevator, he was quiet, we both were, but the tension we'd suppressed is coming to the surface. Putting his TUDE, aside I slide the seatbelt across my chest buckling it. Jerking his door back, Luke slides into his seat. The door closes, and he snaps his seatbelt in place before starting the engine. Just as I tap out the first few words of a message to Kate, the car slows then stops.

Luke cuts the engine, throwing his arm over his headrest staring dubiously at me. "I didn't want to have this conversation in the garage Taylor might see us." He answers, my unasked question.

I peek out the window at the scenery and back at him. "Apposed to a block from Escala?"

Luke rolls his eyes at me, ignoring my keen observation. His body positioned this way, showcases his profile; his defined jaws are strong, but not quite as pronounced as Christian's or his eyes as intense, but he's a work of art too.

"Tell me. What did he say?"

"Who."

"Ana, don't be coy. Your boyfriend."

I clutch the phone and verbatim repeat the conversation with Christian back to him. "Now, it makes sense," he says his body slumping back against the door panel.

"Care to share."

Luke sits forward. "When I returned from Harvard, inexplicably Grey pulled me into his office. He claimed to want my opinion on a lectureship, but clearly it was a fishing expedition. Fuck." He slams his hand down on the headrest. "Another clue I missed."

"We both failed to connect dots."

"Perhaps, but we can't claim dumb luck, this time, the curtain's lifted."

I unsnap my seatbelt. "Go ahead let me have it. You don't agree with my decision, but you weren't there."

"No I wasn't, but here's a radical thought." He pauses. "You could've been honest with the man. I told you not to worry about me, but you won't listen. I'm no wimp; I've been on the battlefield. Fighting a real war, not the play, play bullshit Grey wages."

"That's at the crux of it, your egos. Fake or real wars have consequences."

"Yeah there's collateral damage like Copper."

"For the hundredth time, Copper will be fine. Christian has promised not to harm him in any way. So, leave Copper out of the equation."

He smirks. "You overestimate your sexual prowess." Exasperated, I turn away from him and stare out the window. "Grey's no pushover; he's a man but unlike the rest of us mere mortals he's not susceptible to cheap sex tricks. You're playing a dangerous game of chest." He waits for a reaction but gets none. "He's already two steps ahead of you, and you don't even know it."

I swing my head forward. "You think I'm stupid."

"No. I do think you're thinking too much. You're playing in a different league. He's not gullible Luke."

"Confess to Christian; he leaves me. Voila, you're there to pick up the pieces. Right?"

He snorts. "Based on your logic that's highly unlikely. I'll be six feet under or receiving my food through a tube." His snide remark ticks me off, but I hold my fire. "Who says it will unfold the way your overactive imagination predicts. Have a little faith, if not it the man, in your relationship."

"Why aren't you running far, far, far away from this mess. Neither ending bodes well for you?"

"This is me fighting for you. I'm not running." He holds my gaze. "Don't worry I'm not thinking nonsensical. I'm in my right mind. You chose him. And no matter how much I tell myself it's because he has more money, a prettier face, and more power I know it's not true. He's your happily ever after."

"I tried you know. With us." I clarify.

"Is it work with him. Do you have to try?"

"No," I answer. "Luke, I had no reason to believe I had a chance with Christian, I'd given up hope. I'd moved on from that part of my life, focusing on rebuilding me into someone I liked."

"You don't have to justify yourself. I understand when something is so potent you can't stop yourself from falling." His eyes land on my neck and extending his arm across the seat he lets his fingertips graze the exposed skin on my chest. My arms drop to the seat, as a shiver runs through my body. He picks up the diamond encrusted locket rubbing his thumb over it. "Grey." It's rhetorical; I answer just the same.

"Yes." My voice trails.

Recoiling, he stops toying with the pendant. "Very nice." Luke yanks his hand back, twisting in his seat he starts the engine. It roars, and he puts the radio on full blast bringing the conversation to a premature end."

I incline forward hugging his seat. "Tell me about Mia." My voice competes with the blaring music, but he hears and abruptly shuts the engine off plunging us into quiet.

Unbuckling his seatbelt, Luke whips around in the seat. "Mia Grey." His head sags. "I'll give it to you, for the fragile little flower you purport to be you have balls."

"I don't pretend to be anything; it's how people see me."

"Well, if you're out to change minds; creating chaos isn't a winning strategy."

"That's a low blow.

"Yes, it is. I'd tried being nice, sympathetic even now I need you to wake up. While we created a bubble we didn't live in a vacuum people saws us together." Jazz and Amanda pop into my head, but I don't let on; I don't want to give him more ammunition."

I release his seat, falling backwards. "Why is life so complicated."

He chuckles. "Let me make it easier for you." I slump back in the seat, but soon as he starts talking about Mia my interest fades. Time alone with him is precious; there are more paramount topics to discuss.

My hands flail, interrupting him. "Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. She has a schoolgirl crush, she's immature, she's Christian's Sister-I get the picture. Can we talk about something else like, why are you playing the martyr card? Again. Sacrificing your feelings for mine? You resented it before why do you think it will be different this time?"

"It's on my term. After our fight, I went home, jerked off a few times, fed Benji, and experienced a moment of clarity."

"I could've done without the masturbation reference-." Snorting, he cuts me off.

"It was about you."

"I know." My lips purse. "How's Benji?"

"Better than me. My parents picked him up," Luke glances at his watch. "So, can we get back to the topic at hand."

"Sure."

"I thought about you, about us, about how we met. Our courtship-."

"Courtship." I chuckle. It wasn't his intention, but he's provided some levity. "Courtship is so old-fashion." I break into another fit of the giggles.

Luke knits his brows. "Finished." I motion across my mouth zipping it. "The moment I saw you in that Starbucks, I was more in love with you in those first few seconds than at any time with Alison." He holds my gaze. "I only wish he was capable of loving you the way you deserve. He's not- the- ride -into- sunset type."

"I think you're a little harsh on Christian."

"I'll capitulate, but spare me."

"If Christian finds out about us, he'll view it as the ultimate betrayal."

"He'll be furious, but it will be out there, and you won't have to worry about it tripping you up."

"Ugh." I sigh, burying my face in my hands.

"What's wrong Miss Steele, things getting too hot."

I peel my hands from my face. "In here we're Ana and Luke. Drop the Miss Steele crap."

He grunts. "No. Ana and Luke are dead; we're Miss Steele and Sawyer." Tears, prick my eyes. "If I'm going to do this, I need to make the adjustment. Accept my role. He's your lover; I'm your bodyguard."

"Why did you return the necklace?" I sniffle.

His eyes flash to my neck and back to my face. "What does it matter? You have a better, more expensive one."

I pick up the pendant. "It's not better; it's different." There's a pregnant pause. "Humor me. I'd like to know. It's important to me."

He smirks. "You like this. Knowing you have the both of us whipped." I stay silent, refusing to acknowledge his absurdity. "I returned the necklace because the world Christian Grey inhabitants is hyperbolic, I wanted to remind you that outside of it something real exists. Yes, I've come to term with your relationship with Grey. But that doesn't mean; I don't wish you'd chosen me. It doesn't mean that every time he touches you, I don't wish they were my hands. It doesn't mean that at night when you lay in his bed with him, and I'm in mine alone, I don't dream of you falling asleep in my arms. Or when you give him a loving glance, I don't wish it was me you were longing for."

I run a finger under my eyes. "You reached acceptance quickly, what happened to the other stages of grief?"

"There's no grief. Disappointment, heartache, but not grief. Grief is not seeing you at all. Been there done that, got the scars to prove it; this is a relief. Relief that I get some part of you. I didn't get your heart, but I take protecting it seriously."

* * *

**Save me- AS** I text to Christian.

**LOL- CG**

**LOL,my**** butt call me…RESCUME ME!- AS**

I send the magic words and stash the phone away inside the pocket of my skirt waiting for my White Knight. As I listen for his ringtone, I pretend to be invested in their shallow conversation. Mia has grown on me, she's quirky in a charming kind of way, her best girlfriends are different than I'd expected. Heather is prim and proper with an earthiness to her, but it's obvious her wholesomeness has been corrupted by Lily, an original mean girl. When she's not insinuating that she and Christian had a thing, she's bragging about her all-expense paid shopping sprees to New York, and Milan. While I could care less, I also couldn't resist name dropping. It was petty, but the reward was worth sacrificing my dignity. Lily's mouth had to be picked up from the floor when I rattled off the designer labels from my new wardrobe. The shock and awe didn't last long, her snooty attitude towards me quickly returned; disparaging me when I mentioned shopping the sales rack at the Gap. I couldn't discern which terrified her more; the big box retailer or the thought of a sales rack.

"Ana, what do you think about Kylie Jenner's boyfriend Tyga?" I turn to Mia. She's not exactly a deep thinker, but even coming from her mouth the question is juvenile.

"The better question would've been what do I think of Kylie Jenner." I chuckle, but I'm the only one laughing. "I like his music." There's no need to aim for a philosophical discussion on the topic with these ladies.

"Really." Snottily, Lily remarks. "I'm sure Christian wouldn't approve. It's why I'm surprised he's dating someone so young. He's far too evolved to listen to rap. He's more of a Bach, Chopin man." She adds.

"You know who he is, what does that say about you?" I reply.

She lifts her pointed nose in the air. I don't want to stereotype, but the girl is a Princess. "I keep up with pop culture; I didn't say anything about listening to the music."

Surreptitiously Heather intervenes. "Guess, what I heard on the radio this morning, Lily Pulitzer is doing a collection for Target," she says, and somehow Lily turns it into an attack on my social economic status. To Mia's credit, she called her on it. After that, the conversations are more civil, but not any less shallow. Into the second hour, I stop checking my phone; it's clear the cavalry isn't calling. Christian is probably enjoying this too much.

Lily tosses her head flipping her shiny black hair from side to side, a sure sign that she's prepping to spit some venom my way. "Ana, you don't seem like Christian's type."

"Let me, baby." His baritone voice cuts through the silence that had fallen on the room after her inflammatory commentary.

"Christian." Mia leaps from the bed while I stay glued to it.

Patting him on the back, Dr. Grace gives Mia a sympathetic smile. "Your brother couldn't stay away." Her eyes go to the ceiling.

Christian wraps one arm around Mia, beckoning to me with the other. Smirking, I stand up. Suddenly, I like this mean girl scenario; now that I'm winning. Christian releases Mia and walks further into the room. Closing the distance, he encases me in his arms. "What are you doing here," I murmur.

"You told me to rescue you," he whispers.

"I meant call."

"I know what you meant." He removes his arms. "Come. I have something to show you." Expectantly, I stare up at him, and he flashes me his boy next door smile. Overwhelmed by his giddiness, I clasp his hand willingly following him.

Mia starts behind us. "I'm coming too," she says.

"Sure," Christian says. "Mom, you might as well come too."

"I was planning too," Dr. Grace says. Peeking over my shoulders, I see a sullen Lily reluctantly falling in line. Heather is still gazing at him in awe. She's Mia's friend, so I don't get the wide-eyed adoration, it's as if this is her first time seeing him.

Cuddling closer to his side, I rub it in some more. "You're too happy Mr. Grey."

"Excuse me for smiling." He teases.

"Christian," Mia squeals.

His face contorts. "I'm right in front of you Mia."

"I want you to contact Caroline Acton," Mia says following Lily's playbook . Get Christian to secure the Lily Pulitzer designs directly from the showroom.

Ignoring her, he continues down the stairs. "Wait." Christian warns when we reach the front door. Everyone pauses and he flings the door back. Parked outside is a beautiful white Range Rover.

"Bro, this is sweet," Elliot shouts from where he's standing at the driver's side.

My eyes go from the vehicle to him. "Christian."

He's dangles the keys. " Yes. It's for you."

I hear a chorus of, "he bought her a car." Lily's voice is ringing out the loudest.

"Christian, what a thoughtful gift." While Dr. Grace praises his goodwill, I snatch the keys from his hand bouncing down the steps.

By the time I reach the car, the pack catches up to me. "Get in." Christian insists. Standing to the side, he allows Elliot to open the door for me.

I slide inside, and the supple leather of the seat molds to my behind like a glove. Cradling the steering wheel, I inspect the rest of the interior; turning knobs, flicking signals, and adjusting mirrors. It feels like a dream because it is. In a casual conversation, I mentioned to Christian, not discuss or elaborate that a Land Rover was on my bucket list. It was a footnote in the conversation. Silly me. Still It's way too generous, but so on point for no other reason than it's irritating Lily. It's a validation my relationship with him in terms; only she can understand.

In the rearview mirrors, Lily comes into view, gloating inwardly I fix my eyes on her. She looks as though she'd bitten into a lemon. Regaining my humility, I abandon the petulant behavior and lean out the window. "I love it," I say, planting a kiss on Christian's lips. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now you can get rid of that death trap you call a car. "

I clutch the steering wheel. "Christian. I appreciate the car; it was beyond thoughtful but-.

He breaks in. "Anastasia, I don't want to hear 'too much' coming out of your mouth."

"I was thinking it, but it's not what I was going to say."

He cranes his neck, sticking his head further into the car. "Whatever it is we'll discuss it later. For now, enjoy."

"Sweetheart are you staying for dinner. Your father is going to throw some stuff on the grill; steaks, salmon, corn."

Christian pulls his head back. "Yes," he says.

"No one asked, but I'm staying too." Elliot chimes in.

"Elliot Grey, lately I've seen you at my dinner table more than your father. An invitation is hardly needed." Dr. Grace retorts. Everyone in earshot laughs.

Mia charges the car door. "Ana the car is sweet, " she says angling her head at Christian, "I want one just like it in black." Her brothers roar and her mother shoot daggers at her. However, Mia tunes them out listing her amenities of choice.

"Step back from the car." Elliot teases.

"No. You big Galoot, I'm here to get Ana. We have to get our girl's night back on track. The glam squad will be here shortly."

"Okay." I crack the car door; Christian grabs it opening it wider helping me down. " I'm ready."

His arm winds around my waist. "Wait a minute baby," Christian murmurs, rotating me so my back is to his front and he can nuzzle my neck.

Elliot hissed. "Sheesh. Get a room."

When I face forward, Lily and Heather have joined us. My head tilts up, and Christian stares down at me. "Is this for show?" I mumble.

"Yep," he whispers kissing me on the bridge of my nose, "and I love you."

Bringing my head forward, I lock eyes with Lily and resting my hands on top of Christian's I say, " I love you too." It wasn't loud, but she read my lips and turned varying shades of green.

"Mom where's dad?" Christian says.

"At the office, he has a late meeting so it'll be awhile. I hope this doesn't mean you're not staying."

"I sent Taylor and Luke home; I'd planned to spend the night." Normally self- contained Dr. Grace is rapturous.

"Mia," Lily purrs interrupting her celebration. "We shouldn't let our pampering go to waste; I know this great club." Her snobby head cocks to the side. "Ah. Ana, you have to be 21, I forgot. You're too young." The smugness she's wearing is sickening, you'd think her revelation was breaking news.

"Just as well Lily, I have plans for Anastasia," Christian says, and her smugness vanishes, as mine engulfs my whole being.

Mia's hands, fly to her waist. "What plans Christian, this is supposed to be a girl's night, not a bring your boyfriend night." She pouts. "You're ruining everything." And like a bratty child she commences to stomp her feet.

Elliot snorts. "Take a chill pill."

"Mia, this is about spending time with my girlfriend not ruining your evening."

She grins. "Girlfriend. That's right you have a girlfriend." Playfully, she needles her brother.

"A Party and no one invited me?" My head snaps around at the shrill sound of the witches voice accidentally brushing Christian's chin. Reflexively his grip on my waist tightens as he coaxes me from the edge.

"Elena." Dr. Grace doesn't attempt to hide her surprise. " Where did you come from?"

"The back. I parked in the back." The witch mewls.

Under my breath I mutter, "she slithered in." Christian's forearm presses into my abdomen.

"Baby, keep calm," he murmurs.

Dragon Lady prances in front of my car. "Grace you and Carrick bought Mia an SUV."

"It's Anastasia's," Christian blurts out before his mother can refute her assertion.

In slow motion flirtatiously she turns to the sound of his voice. "Oh, Christian hello. The middle of the day, I didn't expect to see you here." Her eyes dance about before she's forced to acknowledge me. "Anastasia," she says, and I give her a courteous nod. Then staring directly at me, she says, "someone is rubbing off on you." to Christian.

I'm not sure if like me she took it as a jab, but Dr. Grace defends me. "In a good way," she says touching the witch on the shoulder. "Would you like to stay for dinner, Elena." Christian clears his throat, subtly alerting her to his dismay and despite the twinkle in her eyes saying yes she declines. Graciously she excuses herself, and Dr. Grace insists that Elliot escorts her to her car. Meanwhile, we all start to disperse.

Christian's arm loosens around me. "Go inside; I'm going to talk to Lily."

Spinning in his arms, I stare up at him. "Christian."

"Go." I give him a warning glance walking out of his grasp as Lily, Mia, and Heather approach. Casually, he snags Lily sending her companions on their way.

We aren't in the house long, before Christian and Lily joins us. When embarrassed eyes meet mine, she appears contrite, but she isn't. She's just doing a good job hiding her disdain. "What did you say to her?" I say to Christian when he comes up to me.

"Cease the bullshit, or deal with me."

"Can we have a moratorium on the threats. Who's next, old women and small children?"

He gets flushed with my body and leans in. "If they mess with what's mine." Disgusting I know, but his possessiveness is intoxicating.

"Christian," Elliot calls. Taking a step back, Christian faces him. "Want something to drink?" He holds up the decanter.

"No. I'm driving Anastasia's car home."

"Home. I thought you were spending the night," Elliot says filling his tumbler.

"Change of plans."

He takes a sip of the amber liquid. "I don't want to be around when Mia hears." He takes another sip. "Come on man; you're not going to let her drive her new car?" Elliot questions.

"I want to make sure she can handle it first," Christian replies.

"Um. I'm right here," I say. He smirks, and I glower at him. "If you didn't think, I could handle the car why buy it for me?"

"You wanted it."

I choke on my water. "As if that's the bar, I want you to stop buying me things. How's has that worked out?"

"You're so damn sexy when you're mad. Forget about the steaks, Mia or mom; I'm taking you home," he grabs my hand, "right now."

"Why, they're tons of doors here."

He throws his head back. "Touché, Miss Steele."

* * *

We managed an early exit, yet he's barricaded himself in his office. It's disappointing considering all he'd done to me on the drive and the promise of more to come once we arrived h-. Home, I falter on the word, Escala isn't a home; it's a mock-up for _Architectural Digest. _A home has color and warmth, not a wall made of class and artifacts masquerading as chotskies.

Escala is luxurious, but it's not inviting except for this room. The books add the touch of warmth and the inviting hug the rest of the space lacks. Swathed in the comfort of the leather bound books, I pluck one from the shelf-Tess of the D'Urberville. I flip the cover, studying the first page. Gaping, I almost put it back- it's the first edition. But I walk to the built-in window seat tucked between two towering bookshelves instead. Plopping down on the pale yellow cushion, I toe off my shoes. Swiveling, I bring my feet up to the bench, and the subtle chevron pattern in the fabric gets my attention. My fingers trace the raised design. Then I balance the book on my knees going to the page bookmarked by my finger and start reading.

My eyes pop open; as he's prying the book from my hands. "You fell asleep," Christian whispers and I let go.

Dragging my lethargic body against the back of the bookshelf, sleepily I rub my eyes. "I was reading. What took you so long?"

Setting the book on the edge of the shelf, he picks up my feet sliding underneath them. "I was planning a party for someone," he says laying my legs across his lap.

"Who?"

"You."

That wakes me up. "Me!" I try to move, but Christian holds me down by my legs.

"Yes. You. Lily's sassy mouth sparked the idea. I was looking for something special to do for your birthday since I'd missed it." His excitement is palpable- contagious. Anxiously, I lean forward grasping my thighs, waiting for the details. "It will be at the Mile High Club. Naturally, I will close it to the public and give you a birthday party like no other."

"Of that, I have no doubt."

"One worthy of you." His eyes darken, as gradually he starts to parts my legs and when they open wide his eyes shift to between my thighs. "Hmm. No panties." He moans. His smoldering gaze, lingering on my throbbing wetness.

"That can't be a shock. You made me take them off in the car."

"Yes. I did." He teases producing the lace confection. Stuffing them back in his pocket, painstakingly slow his fingers skate up my thighs. "Is this mine?" He groans his fingers are idling at my entrance, and I scoot down to meet them.

"Yes," I say breathily.

"That's it." he moans, his fingers easing closer to my folds.

"Please. Touch me."

Removing his hand, Christian pushes my legs further apart sliding in between them. He leans into me, and his slacks rub against my clit. "Mark Ronson will DJ, Kanye West and Jay Z will perform," he whispers.

Knocking him on his shoulders, I maneuver somehow, and I'm on my feet. I landed awkwardly; it smarts but not enough to hamper my excitement. Not for sex, that desire dissipated when he started naming the performers. "Are you kidding me?"

"Do I look like the kidding type."

"Oh Christian."

"I take it; this is a good use of my money."

"Duh." He chuckles. "This is going to be epic. Yeezy and Jigga are performing in the same place. My party. I can't believe it. This party is going to be off the chain." Christian stares at me as if horns are sprouting from my head.

"Jigga." He winces. "Can we stick with Jay, Jayzee or even JBae?"

"Sure," I say squealing uncontrollably and his fingers go to his ears plugging them.

Removing his fingers, he stands up. "It's official; you were around Mia and her minions too long."

I stand on my tiptoes, circling my arms around his neck. "Thank you." His hands grip my sides, his head tilting down, he covers my mouth. Our tongues fight for dominance before I withdraw mine. My arms slacken.

"What's wrong, you've gone from jubilant to crestfallen?" Christian murmurs against my lips.

My arms drop to my side. "I'm sorry, it just hit me. Kate or Ethan for that matter will miss the party."

He sticks his finger under my chin, nudging my head up. "I've made arrangement to bring them to Seattle in time for your party." His finger falls, and as I start to move, but he cups me by the waist anchoring me to the floor. "Before you get too excited, young Mr. Kavanagh is unable to make it; he hurt himself on vacation. Nothing serious, a knee or something to that nature."

"Kate didn't mention it." He shrugs, and I wrap my arms around his waist. "Christian you're the greatest."

"Having an exceedingly rich boyfriend has it perks."

Untangling my arms, I drop to my knees. Grabbing his belt, I peek up at him. "Definitely," I mewl as I start unbuckling his belt.


	43. Chapter 43: Birthday- 20 Uptown Funk

**Chapter 43-** Birthday 2.0- Uptown Funk

**Disclaimer: FSOG belongs to EL James.**

**A/N: **I've held on to this chapter long enough, holding on to isn't going to make you like it better so here goes nothing. Please enjoy. Thank you for following, enjoying, some would say tolerating my story. I'm not a professional writer so I can't give you professional caliber work- I promise you I wish I could ... What I can give you is my best- So again thank you for reading, following, and reviewing

**Thursday**

Yesterday Christian and I spent time on his luxury yacht. The cold snap wasn't relinquishing it's grip on the city so instead of being cooped up at Escala, spending another day with his family, or risk being seen sightseeing by the paparazzi, Christian decided we'd make The Grace our hideaway for the day. As soon as she came into view, I was so glad he did. The Grace is a magnificent display of craftsmanship, I was awed by her beauty, and sheer size; the level of detail on board, matched the splendor of her hull.

So, snuggling up under his thick warm collegiate blankets, on deck, and below we ate and drank. Mrs. Jones packed the picnic basket as if were planning to stow away indefinitely. The only drawback, Christian couldn't indulge in alcohol, he'd driven - my new car. He had to partake in my beverages of choice, h2o, ginger ale, and cranberry juice. Since the Grace, didn't present a security risk, Christian elected to forego security. Mr. Taylor went on and on about protocol, but I was thrilled when Christian shut him down. I needed a reprieve from the drudgery of hiding my dirty little secret in plain sight. But Mr. Taylor fraught for not, Mac, the Captain acted like a de facto CPO. Still, for a few short hours, we were a normal couple locked in our own world; when we weren't eating and drinking, against the backdrop of the cacophony of sounds from the Puget, and Christian's playlist of lovemaking music we made love. We didn't need to sail the seven seas to feel the boat move.

Today is much different, he's chained to his desk, and since misery loves company, he invited me to do my work in his office with him. I'm not complaining, purely speaking as a student of business I couldn't have scripted a better scenario than watching the master at work; however, as his girlfriend, it's been a rude awakening. A reminder of what I already I know, I don't measure up; he's insanely handsome, a brilliant mind, and too accomplished for me to hitch my wagon to. Initially, I balked at hanging out with him, I was concern about our productivity, but I was easily persuaded. It bested toiling away alone in the library or the main room, and to my astonishment we've been very productive. He's been on the phone, or had his head buried in a spreadsheet, I've been working relentlessly on my report.

Loudly, the handset of Christian's office phone rattles in the cradle, jarring me. He pounds his fist on the desk, and I flinch for the second time in as many seconds. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

I roll the sheets of paper into a tube. "No worries, my mind was starting to drift." My torso folds over my waist. "Can I help?"

He runs his hand through his hair, in exasperation. "Not unless you can orchestrate a coo." Straightening my spine, I tilt my head to the side, and Christian rolls his chair back. Gracefully, he rises with the confidence of the sexual beast that is Christian Grey. "Forget about that, I have a better idea, you can wrap those soft, plump lips around my dick."

Smirking, I toy with the tube. "And, we were doing so well."

He rounds his desk. "We were. Now, I need some relief, and you can use a break. Apparently, you missed the lecture on Spring break." In two long strides, he's at my side. "No work on break," he says snatching the cylinder from my hands.

Raising up, I swipe at the tube. "Gimme," I screech, as he puts it out of reach. Settling back down on the sofa, I pout. "Hypocrite." He narrows his eyes. "You've been on conference calls non-stop, and when you weren't on one, you were preparing for one."

"I'm not on one now, and I'm not preparing for one." Unfurling the tube, he scans the title page, and I cringe. His eyes dart from the page to me, back to the page, back to me. "This is about me."

Timidly, I nod my head. "Yes."

"Let me get this straight. Working for me is a conflict of interest, and this isn't?"

"Christian, they're two different animals, entirely. But for argument sake, technically no. The assignment was before there were a you and me."

"Tell me, did you write it before or after our blow up?"

I furrow my brows. "There were a couple of false starts, but mainly after."

"So, it's a hit piece?" He swats me on the leg with the papers. Feigning hurt, I glance at his front. The massive bulge isn't so massive it's gone. Just my luck, my report has rendered my lips useless. If I had to choose, I'd choose the blowjob, over Christian reading my report.

"Christian, give me some credit." I drag my legs up so he can sit. " It's a school assignment, you think I'd put my personal business out there." Leaning forward, I cup my kneecaps.

"I'll be the judge of that, I have final approval on all articles written about me."

I roll my eyes at him. "Really. What part of school assignment did you miss? It's a student paper Christian, not a piece for _Rolling Stone_."

He flicks the paper, hitting my shin. "Why aren't you editing digitally, I thought you were Miss Electronic publishing."

"I am, but the English major in me still likes the feel of the written word in her hands." Discarding my knees, I gesture with my fingers. "So, I write online, and edit in print."

"You are a mountain of contradictions on the subject. You want to reinvigorate Electronic Publishing and make it the gold - standard, yet you still prefer doing things manually, and a book-."

Relaxing against the armrest, I stretch my legs across his lap cutting him off. "Sorry, to me the two things aren't exclusive. I know there's the great divide- eBook versus an actual book. I like both. My love for the new shouldn't diminish my appreciation for the old. Regardless of the format, the utter beauty of the written word is what counts. I just want to forge a new path for all authors so their voices can be heard." I burrow the heels of my bare feet into his thighs. "Do you know how many storytellers are out there? The hidden gems in the wide open, that the big Publishing houses miss because they're set in their old ways."

"You're very passionate, about medium. Your voice sings and your eyes light up when you talk about it. I'd like to delve into the venture further with you. Be an investor maybe."

"Christian. No. It's mine, you're such an imposing figure your involvement would usurp the entire project."

"I'd be a minority investor."

"It doesn't matter; your involvement is all the media would focus on. I'd get second billing on my own idea. This is my baby."

"I'd be proud to stay in the background and let you shine."

"It's not about the accolades it's about the work, my accomplishments."

"Now, you're offending my sensibility, insinuating that I'd make a business related decision based on emotions. You have the wrong man, I can separate business from pleasure. I assure you, backing you would be strictly about business."

"How do you know?"

"Anastasia, I have a nose for a good idea."

"That's not what I'm talking about. You've never had a girlfriend. How do you know you don't mix the two. I don't want to be your experiment; I want to make this happen on my own accord."

"Anastasia, I'm still me. Yes, you've converted me. I'm a true believer; all hearts and flowers but I haven't gone completely soft." He arches his brow. "Like with Warren Buffet people pay millions to have an hour lunch with me. You know why?"

Audibly, I sigh. "They have more money than sense."

"Nice try, but wrong. By merely sitting at the table with me they hope to glean some business acumen. Discover the magic elixir that has made me so successful. Why deny yourself the same access, just because you're fucking me. I may be a liability in love, but in business, I'm a sure bet."

"Why are we even talking about this, there's nothing. It's just a crazy notion inside my head."

"So, was GEH once." He makes a valid point, but I don't tell him. Give Christian Grey a crack in the door, and he'll knock it off its hinges.

"Speaking of GEH, don't you have a company to run," I say hauling my legs back, "and let me have my papers." For GP, I make a half-hearted attempt at the report, and as expected Christian's keeps it away from me.

"What are you doing, I'm going to read it. You know you could've saved yourself some time. Hell, I would've written it for you."

"Bingo. You've just proven my point. You'd meddle."

He smirks, but before he can throw out one of his well-timed zingers, his cell phones beep. Clinging to the report, he stands up and yanks his phone out of his pocket. "Grey." He answers, then he listens intently. "Email me the numbers and fax the contract. And Roz when you have everything ready, call me back on my office phone to discuss." Disconnecting he stuffs the phone back in his pocket, and retakes his seat. "Now, where were."

"Gah," I sigh and close my eyes as he peruses the page. All I can do is wait.

"This is good. No, it's damn good," Christian announces, and relief sweeps over me at the same time my heart swells with pride. He liked it.

"You don't have to say that, remember separation of church and state."

Chuckling he throws his head back. "I do, and I'm not saying it because you're my girlfriend. It was inspiring, you captured the essence of why I do what I do better than any professional writer ever has."

"I know you intimately. They fed the public more of the same, what they think they know; I wrote about the man I want them to know."

"Precisely, why you should work for me. Or at least, rewrite my bio on the GEH website. You write better copy than the hacks I have working for me."

"Stop. You're incorrigible."

He smirks. "Maybe, but I'm not giving up. But back to your paper, it's terrific. I especially liked the introduction. It sets the tone for the rest of the article." And as if I wasn't the author, he reads it to me.

_Christian Grey is an example of a young man with a dream, but unlike most he had the vision, and fortitude to bring his to fruition. In a short time, he has amassed a fortune in the billions, but one in-depth look into his massive portfolio, and you quickly get the sense that it isn't just about the money for this boy genius as he is sometimes called; it's about something deeper. Lifting the human spirit by feeding it. It's as much an alliteration as it is his calling. Mr. Grey invests his dollars in many charities, but his time and devotion are entrenched in only two- Coping-Together and The Grey Foundation. Coping Together as the name indicates is about keeping the family unit intact. Primarily the non-profit provides a loving and nurturing environment for drug addicted Single Mothers and their children. With Heroine ravaging our communities, its work is more relevant today than it was nearly 15 years ago when it was founded. The Grey Foundation is focused on sustainable farming to help feed the hungry and restore dignity back into their lives, like the people suffering in Sub-Sahara Africa. So it's my estimation that Christian Grey's impact on the world 20 years from now will be even more significant as he realizes his ultimate goal of eradicating hunger not only in Africa but also here at home._

I smack the papers, cutting him off. "Enough. You can put it down now."

Shifting his body, Christian heaves his arm throwing it across the back of the sofa. "You know I love it, but I have one suggestion?"

"Please, I welcome your criticism?"

"A suggestion not a critique. Get it right."

"Suggestion. Got it." I give him a mock salute.

"I think I need to put you over my knee-."

"No BDSM remember."

"Oh, it wouldn't be for pleasure." I gasp, and kick at him, but he captures my feet. "You're making matters worse for yourself," he says playfully, and he releases them. "Anyway, in the parts where you highlight societal problems, add the statistics. The number of people addicted to painkillers and heroin is both staggering and alarming. People need to wake up to the epidemic, it's destroying our neighborhoods, and tearing our families apart. Challenge your readers. Let them read the message, see the numbers so they can feel the impact. I know it's only a school paper, but it's a good habit to develop."

"Great recommendation, thank you."

Tugging on my legs he drags me closer to him. Laying, the pages on my lap, earnestly he stares me in the eyes. "What you wrote, is that how you see? Do you think I can be that man?"

I lean forward. "Christian, yes. That man in the future is based on the man you are now. You are the quintessential enigma wrapped in a puzzle, but when you peel back all the layers the authentic Christian Grey, is philanthropic, devoted, and protective, with that combination, you are bound for more greatness."

Lifting his arm from the sofa, he runs his hand through my hair cupping the side of my head. "I don't deserve you. You're too perfect for me to ruin."

I incline into his touch. "Christian, I have flaws too."

He pulls his hand back. "I'm not so consumed with your perfection, that I've missed the imperfections; to me the simply don't exist. They are a part of you, making up all the reasons I love you. The way you talk in circles like a dog chasing his tail, the way you stutter when you're nervous, and that stubborn streak that frustrates me and tests me. Without, any one of them, you'd be just another woman. I'm in awe of you. You're honest, pure, and caring. You're thought-provoking, you challenge me not just in ideas, but in life. You make me want to be that man you write about."

A ping of guilt hits me, and I send the papers flying when I fling myself at him. "I love you."

He catches me and wraps me up. "I love you too," he mutters, tightening his grip on my back.

Sniffling, I smoother my shame in his loving embrace. "There's no place I'd rather be," I whisper.

Loosening his grip, Christian nudges my shoulder. "Why are those beautiful blue eyes so sad?" he says, and his office phone buzzes. "Sorry, I need to get that."

I dab the corners of my eyes. "Don't be silly. Go."

Collecting the papers from the floor, and sofa I pull it together, and as Christian conferences with Roz, I pull out his Ipad Pro immersing myself in the internet searching for the data he'd suggested. By the time the call ends, I have the numbers entered, and made some other markups. "Thanks, again. It flows so much better." I say when he reaches the sofa.

"I'm glad. Like you, it was already perfect," he says, sitting back down.

The noise in my head, crescendos; guilt no longer a drum beat consumes me. I set the papers down on the floor. "I hate that word, considering that nothing in this world exists that is perfect."

"Coming from you, that's just not cynical, it's dark. You sound more like me than me."

"Christian. You know I love you. These last few days have been the best in my life. They've eclipsed my imagination. Every gift more spectacular than the next, but the one that means the most to me." Sitting forward, I rest my hand on his chest. "Your heart. You've given it to me so freely."

He rests a hand on top of my mine. "Anastasia, without you I don't have a heart. You don't understand how much being without tore my world about. I was nothing, but a shell." At his omission, tears start trailing down my cheeks. It's not news to me, but it sounds fresh to my ear. " Removing our hands, he sits forward capturing my face in his hands, kissing it everywhere. "What's wrong?'

I sniffle. "I need to tell you something," I say in a garbled voice.

"When you cry, you have such kissable lips," he murmurs. Nibbling first, then he thrusts his tongue into my mouth.

Pulling out of the kiss creates a ripple effect, his hands fall away, and I shove on his shoulders. "Christian, please I need to get this out," Panting, I try to catch my breath.

Dismissive, he encroaches, and my body starts going down. "I want you." His legs, part my thighs.

"Christian, please!" Stupefied, he pulls up, and bracing on my elbows, I scrap to straighten up. "For once can we talk and not have sex. " My arms flail. "I'd like to have a conversation." I draw my knees to my chest, his shoulders hunch but relax when he's on his side of the sofa.

We lock eyes. "Talk," he barks, "you wanted to talk, have at it."

Adjusting my shirt, I glower at him. "Sometimes you can be a real bonehead."

"And sometimes you can be a real tease." I gasp, his regret is immediate, but so is the damage. He runs his hand through his hair. "Anastasia, I don't want to engage in a pubescent back and forth with you because we both know how quickly it can spiral out of control."

I wipe under my eyes. "I don't want to argue-." The darn cell phone beeps cutting me off again.

Wrenching the ringing phone from his pocket, Christian checks the caller ID and springs to his feet. He starts pacing. The conversation is one-sided, but from Christian's gruff tone it's obvious Mr. Taylor isn't delivering good news, he's ratcheting up his frustration. I haven't seen Christian this riled since our many heated arguments; he's railing into Mr. Taylor. "I am tired of the fucking bullshit. You need to find Leila Williams. And when you do she will pay dearly for her shenanigans. God will be her only hope for mercy because I won't give her any!" Cowering on the sofa, I rethink the heart to heart.

Tossing, the phone on his desk, he crisscrosses the room. "Christian. Whose Leila Williams?"

He doesn't respond, swooping down he seizes my face dragging me up to meet his and he crushes his mouth to mine. Our teeth clashes, as roughly he devours my mouth. Withdrawing his tongue, Christian sinks his teeth into my bottom lip, nibbling, and tugging on it. There's the taste of blood, and his tongue darts out pressing the inner wall of my bottom lip lapping it up. His hands fall away, and he drops to one knee on the edge of the sofa. We make eye contact, the slate in his eyes is dark, almost onyx. His ironclad control slipping, Christian grips my shirt, ripping it open. The buttons go flying everywhere pinging, clattering on the various surfaces in the office- then there's silence.

My head droops, I get a glimpse of my breast peeking through the gap in the shirt, and my head pops back up. I hold his gaze, even haunted he's beautiful. Reaching up I cup the side of his face. "You're upset."

"No." He nuzzles into my touch. "I'm not out of control, I know what I want. You- fast, hard, and for my pleasure." Gone is the gruffness, he's more conciliatory, but he's still troubled.

My thumb flicking against his skin, I consider all the things I want to criticize him for. His use of sex as a distracting technique chief among them. But this Leila Williams has him spooked. She awakened the monster, and he needs me to quiet him. He forces my hand away, and, his lips rove my face, and neck as he pushes the shirt over my shoulders down my arms to the sofa. Fervidly, he kisses me and kneading my breasts he seduces me into submission. "Yes," I moan.

Pressing on my breastplate, Christian pushes me back down to the armrest. Throwing his knees over me, he buries his face in the crook of my neck and rubs his nose along the column. "You smell, sweeter than the most fragrant flower," he murmurs against my skin kissing his way down my body. Unbuttoning the waistband of my jeans, he then zips them down, and kneeling at my feet, he leans forward, loopings his fingers through the loops, tugging them down to my hips. I lift my butt, and he drags them the rest of the way down my legs, over my feet, tossing them to the floor.

I raise up. "Let me," I say reaching for his shirt, but Christian blocks my hands. "Aren't you taking it off?"

He unzips but doesn't unbutton his pants. "No." Sticking his hand, into the opening, he fishes out his cock, fisting it. I swallow; the move nor the one-word response are subtle, he's on the precipice, do I coax him back from the edge, or dabble in the darkness with him.

As I ponder, the lesser of the two evils, Christian taps my shoulders, and I fall back into the lying position. I squirm against, the soft masculine leather sofa, as he supports himself on one arm, and hovers over me. Using his free hand, he hooks his index finger under the seat of my panties gathering the lace into a bunch sliding it back and forth across my clit. "Ah," I moan. The lace is soft to the touch, but clumped in a mass pressed against my sensitized nub, it's harsh, at the same time, arousing.

"Your panties are soaked, Anastasia." I writhe beneath him. "You're always wet for me," he rasps releasing the lace fabric, he plunges the finger into me. "Next week when you're sitting at your little desk in class, I want you to remember this. Where I've been." His breathing hitches, as his finger goes in, out of me then all the way out. Taking the finger covered in my juices, he smears the juices across my lips. "Open your eyes," he orders, and my lids flutter open on command. Pre-cum is glistening at the tip of his erection, as his hand slides up and down his shaft. "Open your mouth."

Pushing the lingering uneasiness to the aside I do, as he dictates. "Okay."

Releasing his grip on the armrest, he comes up on his knees and straddling me he hustles closer to my face. "Thought I'd forgotten, didn't you," Christian croaks, taunting me with his erection. "Stick your tongue out." Like a trained seal, I follow his command, and Christian drags the tip of his erection over the surface of my tongue until it absorbs all the milky liquid. I smack my lips, getting the taste of both our fluids in my mouth.

Hustling back down my body, he crawls between legs parting my thighs. Crooking his finger he puts it back in my panties tugging them to the side, and reaching back, he guides his cock to my entrance slamming it into me. The force sends my body upward moving the couch. He doesn't let me acclimate, he keeps pounding my core at the relentless pace. Each punishing stroke is purposeful, as he thrusts into me. He's sending a message, I'm simply the receptacle for it.

The teeth of the zipper bite into my skin, every time he slams into my pelvic area. There is a level of discomfort, but strangely it's arousing and in some ways cathartic- it's an escape root, from whatever this is. Bearing down on me, Christian races to his climax, as he tries to outrun whatever's chasing him. Grunting loudly, he collapses and, grabbing a fist full of his soaked shirt I cradle him to my chest. "Better," I whisper kissing his damp hair.

He toys with the twisty in my hair. "Anytime, I'm in you I'm better," Christian murmurs, pulling the band down my ponytail eviscerating it, and I feel my hair spilling over the armrest. "The smell of sex, sweat on your hair, and skin are my three favorite aromas."

Gradually, he lifts, dragging his flaccid cock around my wet panties out of my vagina. His cum seeps out, flooding the sofa. "We're messing up your sofa."

"It's leather, it'll survive," he says and my spine tingles alerting me to my stupidity. This isn't one of those firsts. He's been here before. I come up on my elbows. "Fuck, forget the sofa, I've got shit all over my pants."

I give the trousers a passing glance and shove on his shoulder. "I'm going to the bathroom; I'll bring you a towel back."

He grasps my elbow. "Are you okay? Your mood has changed."

"For your pleasure remember," I snap nudging his hand away, throwing my legs over the sofa.

Sliding the crumpled shirt on, I tie a knot in the front. All dressed, I start tidying up, Christian doesn't mind, his staff finding evidence of our encounters, but I'm not that evolved. "Where to put this?" I hold up the book we'd knocked down.

"Leave it for Gail, Anastasia."

"Christian, it's one book, not a volume, we can put it away."

He runs his hand through his hair in exasperation. "I don't give a fuck, find a space." Rolling my eyes, I stick it in the first available spot I see and slip my book bag on my shoulder. Retrieving the fax from the fax machine, he eyes me warily. "To make up for the other night, I promised my mother that we'd come for dinner," he says.

"Whatever," I say, and I stomp to the door.

"Anastasia," Christian calls. Gripping the doorknob, I face him. He's planted himself in front of his desk. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm going to the library. You need to finish up in here, and I want to put the finishing touches on my paper."

"You're lying. I know how your mind works." Gripping the edge of the desk, Christian sits back on it crossing his legs at the ankles. "I've had sex in my office, fuck I have a playroom in my apartment, so it can't be that much of a leap, but judging from your demeanor, and the scowl you're wearing it is." He pins me to the floor with his glare. "Full disclosure, I've fucked women in here; as well as, many other spaces and surfaces in the apartment. And yes we will fuck in some of those same places, along with others I've mentally inventoried." He sighs. "Why do you do this to yourself, you know I love you."

I release the knob. "Do you, then talk to me, Christian. You're hiding something."

"You chastise me, but you're just as adept at being cagey." I reach for the doorknob for support, unbeknownst to him, he's hit eerily close to home.

* * *

Running a hand down my ponytail, I smooth out any loose hairs. "Christian."

A hand shoved **seductively** in the pocket of his trousers, Christians pivots forward putting his back to the wall of windows, and his jaw drops when he sees me. "Wow. Your body does a dress good- it looks even better than on the hanger."

"I sure hope so, it would've been pretty pathetic if the reverse was true." Bouncing further into the room, I stop and twirl. "Oh," I say bumping into him. "Sorry." Giggling, sheepishly I cock my head to the side. "You like."

His hands grip my sides. "I like a lot. Charcoal is your color."

Unexpectedly I jump on him, he stumbles but he catches me, and I entwine my limbs around his body. "I'm sorry for earlier," I whisper, and I squeeze his neck.

Securing me to his body, he cups the curves of my butt cheeks. "I'm sorry too," he mutters, hoisting me higher, "we both let the outside penetrate our fortress." Flexing, the muscles in my cheeks, I nudge his hands. His grip loosens, and I slide to the floor. Glancing down, I check the front of my dress. "Leila is part of my past." My head shoots up, I wasn't angling for a confession, but I appreciate his candor. "A part of my past, I need to deal with," he explains further.

"A submissive I take it?"

"Yes."

With the revelation things are starting to make sense. She's a stalker. "Is she harmful?

He rubs the nape of his neck. "Physically. I don't think so. She's done some destructive things, but she hasn't been physically violent. But, baby you have nothing to worry about, Leila Williams will never get that close to you."

"She doesn't worry me. I have 24/7 protection thanks to you. You're my concern. I don't like what it's doing to you. Revenge brings out a side of you that frightens me." I lock my pinky finger with his. "Let it go Christian."

His mouth curves into a half smile. "It's settled."

I squeeze his finger. "Thank you for pacifying me, but I'm not that naïve. It's not a settled matter, you're just done with discussing it. But the thought counts." I release his finger. "Thank you for openness," I say sweetly.

"I owe you."

I scrunch up my face. "For what?"

Abruptly, he plops down on the ottoman, and gripping the back of my upper thighs, he peers up at me. "I owe you an orgasm," he says, a devilish grin caressing his lips.

"Christian, we're leaving shortly."

"Then we'd better make it quick."

"Christian! Mr. Taylor will catch us."

He smirks. "My employees. My home. They don't catch me, I catch them. Besides, I'll have you coming in no time," he boasts, and letting go of my thighs, he hooks his fingers in the waistband of my panties dragging them down my legs to my knees.

His head drops, and he dips it underneath my dress; it flops up, then down. His fingers stroking the outside of my thighs, Christian buries his face in my wetness parting my folds with his tongue and flicking my clit. It was choreographed, still the move steals my breath, and pitching forward I sink my fingers into his shoulders. Applying a vice grip on my thighs, he ensures I'm rooted to the floor as he goes to work sucking, licking, and flicking my clit. Unfurling my digits, I throw my head back, relishing in the feel of his mouth on me.

Stiffening his tongue, Christian rims the outside of my entrance, before dipping it inside the hole probing the throbbing mushy flesh. Tremors swarm my body, I lurch propelling my head forward, and my eyes flash open landing on him. The wiring in my brain goes haywire, as I process the horror, fighting with my dress I try to get Christian's attention. "Sawyer," I croak. Besieged with embarrassment I can go only get his name out, I marvel that I managed to get it right.

A name is all Christian needed, he understood, but he's dismissive- raising only a hand in the air. "Sorry, sir." I hear and through my lashes I peek up. Luke's back to us. Decency, compassion, hurt feelings, or a combination of all three, made him turn away from the car wreck. "JT sent me, he had an emergency." Considering the enormity of what he witnessed he has the wherewithal to explain while my stomach is churning.

I swat the back of Christian's head, and reluctantly he drags it from underneath my dressed. Peeved, he peers up at me. His face is covered in my juices. " A few more minutes Luke. We'll meet you in the garage," Christian says matter of fact. I have disdained for the both of them, it's not fair. Luke's voice is strong, unchanged mine is quivering and shaky. Meanwhile, the corners of Christian's mouth are turn up into a satisfying grin. Then it slaps me in the face. It's debatable if it's intentional or not, but they've turned my humiliation into a pissing contest.

Struggling to find the waistband of my panties, out the corners of my eyes I see Luke takes long, determined strides to the elevator. He attempts to enters before the doors slide opens. Christian grabs my trembling hands, and I lose sight of him. "Don't." His eyes bore into me. Straightening my spine, though I almost gag on my spit, I give into him. I'm nausea that for the second time today, I'm too weak to deny him even when it's not sitting right with my soul.

This time, Christian flips my dress up to my waist exposing my pubic area. Digging his finger vicariously close to the crack of my bum he thrusts my vagina into his face. Resuming his assault on my sex he sucks my clit into his mouth pressing down on the bundle of nerve, and against my ardent protest, my body and mind succumbs to him. I come. Hard. I collapse, and somehow Christian maneuvers catching me helping me onto his lap. Laying my head on his shoulder, I try to regulate my breathing. Seduced by the smell of him, contentment fills me, then he rubs my back, and the spell is broken - I recoil. My head lifts. "I'm going to clean up," I mutter kicking the panties from the tip of my Chanel flats. I stand up, so does Christian, and I jab him in the chest with my finger. "Don't you, ever do that to me again," I shout, and storm off.

When the bathroom door opens, Christian is standing on the other side, dangling a panty from his finger. "A fresh one," he says. Snatching it, I keep walking, uttering thank you only when there's distance between us.

"I would apologize, but I don't know what I'm apologizing for."

Tugging the panties to my waist, I flatten the front of my dress, ironing out the wrinkles. "Christian, I was uncomfortable, in the first place knowing your staff could pop up anytime. They're like rogue Jack in the boxes. Being found in a compromising position, is my worst nightmare come true."

"Anastasia, this is my life, how I live. My staff is used to it. Luke is used to it. I'm not being braggadocios, or trying to stoke anger, it's a fact."

"News flash, I'm not used to it Christian," I bark, grab my purse from the bed, "so maybe this won't work after all. I'm not one of your submissives. I'll let you fuck me for your pleasure, but I won't let you treat me like a common whore for it." Hostility fuels my every word. Barging past Christian, intentionally I bump his shoulder with mine on my way out the room.

No one in the car makes eye contact. When Luke opened our doors, he kept his head bowed, and he's yet to check the rearview mirror. Relying solely on the side mirrors. Christian and I are on our respective sides; never the twain shall meet. However, ever so often his fingers evade my space. Keeping my eyes glued to the window, I ease my fingers to my lap or hug the door tighter. The skyscrapers dotting the skyline, the billboards crowding the freeway, and the different license plates I count reminiscent of the family vacations I never took but heard others regale about are a visual respite for my mind.

The SUV comes to a stop. Wanting out, the horror, I open my own car door. Lunging Christian grabs my arm. "Luke, give us a moment," he orders.

"Yes, Sir. I'll wait at the back of the SUV."

Contemplating, I let the door go, and it slams at the same time Luke's closes. Twisting in the seat, I scowl at him. "You want to do this now." I pause. "We're in front of your parent's house. I expect your mother to step out of the front door at any moment. Can't this wait?" I tilt my head to the side. "Oh, I forgot you like an audience," I say wryly.

"Stop acting like a fucking petulant child. I want to, and we're going to have this conversation. No, tell me what has you the most upset. The fact that someone saw us, or that the someone was Luke?"

I swallow, stunned by his comment. "Gee Christian, if doubts are still swirling, why is he still on your payroll. Why are you keeping him around? Or me for that matter." I ignore the butterflies flapping their wings, and I'm defiant to the end.

Tugging on my arm, Christian drags me across the seat hauling me on to his lap. "Don't you ever make that interference again. I let you off the hook at Escala." Angling his head, he searches my face. "I'd be in shambles without you. I lied I know why you're angry. I was careless with your feelings. What can I say, I'm a selfish man? I want you when I want you. I'll make a lot of demands on your body but never at the expense of trampling on your spirit. Luke, isn't a concern, I trust you. I only brought him up, because when it comes to you, I'm vulnerable. It's not something I know, so I reverted to old habits. Your words struck a chord; the submissive, whore, leaving me; I lashed out. It's what I do when I feel out of control." He holds my chin between his fingers. "Baby, I love you, and I don't want to be without you. So, don't ever make a joke about leaving me."

My arms fly up, knocking his fingers out of my way. "Christian I love you so much. You have to give me time to adjust to your world." I cuddle his neck.

His arms come around my back. "We've got time," he says kissing me on the side of my head. "Now, some ground rules for dinner. No matter how hard Mia or my mom tries, we're not spending the night. I want to take you home and make love to you properly."

* * *

**Friday**

"Mr. Grey." I hear Mrs. Jones say, and I wheel around. Dashing down the hall, I race through the kitchen, and when I reach Christian, I jump on him.

Dropping his satchel, he catches me, and I entwine my limbs around him like Ivey. "Whoa." Stumbling slightly, he cups my bottom. "Baby, next time warn me." He chuckles.

Clinging to him, I hug his neck for dear life. "Sorry, I just missed you."

"I missed you too," he says, walking further into the room with me draped all over him.

"It looks like you have your hands full. I'll leave you two alone," Mrs. Jones teases.

Loosening my grip on his neck, I incline back. "I'm sorry Mrs. Jones, you don't have to leave," I say untangling my arms and legs sliding down Christian's body, "I was just saying hello."

"You're fine Miss Steele," she says, bending down picking up his satchel, " I was heading to my room anyway. Mr. Grey had caught me before I did." She holds up his briefcase. "I'll take this to your office."

"Thank you, Gail," Christian says, and she leaves. He drapes his arm over my shoulders, I grab his dangling fingers, and we start walking. "I'm confused, I thought there was a no public display of affection policy."

I squeeze his fingers. "You're confusing PDA with exhibitionism."

"Okaaay, wise ass does kissing count?"

"It depends on how deep it is."

Stopping on a dime, Christian pulls his hand back and dropping his arm he curves his hand around the back of my neck forcing my head up. Tilting his head down he covers my mouth thrusting his tongue deep inside kissing me passionately, deeply, and fervently. And then he extricates his tongue. "Where does that fall."

I pant. "Off the charts," I say breathlessly, and I smile broadly.

"It's a delight to see you smile. I'm not complaining, but what's with the good mood?"

I snake my arm around his waist. "You. This week was about reconnecting, us finding our way as a newly minted couple. While you've been nothing but thoughtful, gracious, and hospitable, I've spent most of it bouncing between one fight to the next. So, this morning, I made a pact."

He snorts. "I'm listening." Reaching behind him, he tears my arm from his back, taking my hand in his leading me to the living room. We reach the sofa, and he sits pulling me down to his lap. I slide my hands inside his jacket, and he shrugs his shoulders.

"I promise to behave more like an adult, be more appreciative when you give me gifts, and have sex with you whenever you want," I rattle off, as I tug on the sleeves of his jacket, relieving him of it.

His hand clenches around my wrist. "I didn't know the latter, was up for discussion." He increases the pressure, and I wince. "I thought it was understood."

He releases my wrist, and I rub the discomfort out. "It is, after yesterday I thought it was worth restating."

"Thanks, for clarifying. "Picking up his jacket, from my lap, he folds it in half setting it on the sofa next to us. "Katherine's flight should be arriving shortly. I hope you didn't mind that I set her up at the hotel."

"Please. Kate and hotels are a match made in concierge heaven. We spoke last night; she's more than fine, she's delirious. If she's happy, I'm happy," I say loosening the knot on his tie.

He angles his head up. "What. You, don't think I'm capable of undressing myself."

I drag the tie through the collar of his shirt, wrapping it around his neck, and I tug the ends. "You Mr. Grey, are more than capable," I say coquettishly.

He groans. "You know what I love more than sex with you?"

I rub the tip of my noses against his. "Nothing," I purr.

"Eating with you," he says, deadpan.

Dropping the tie ends, I punch him on his shoulder. "I hate you."

Pulling the tie from his neck, Christian laughs. "What happened to the new attitude?"

"You happened." Jokingly, I cross my arms in front of my chest.

He pops me on the rear. "Speaking of food, up. I need change for lunch." I rise, coming to my feet. "We have a long day and night ahead of us, and I want to make sure we're well nourished. Especially you, who I'm certain had the breakfast of squirrels…grape nuts and yogurt."

I grab the tie from his hand, throwing it back at him. "Granola and yogurt get it right," I screech. Catching the necktie, Christian collects his blazer and comes to his feet. "Anyway, Mrs. Jones made me a full breakfast, eggs, bacon, and pancakes," I say.

"Go, Gail, I owe her a raise." He flinches, feeling for the next object, but I can't find anything to throw. I stomp my feet and Christian chuckles. "Your edict is falling apart fast. What happened to the more adult-like piece?"

I laugh. "Go, get out of here. Get changed."

Coming up behind me, Christian slips his arms around my waist, and my head tilts to the side. "What are you staring at?" He says, nuzzling his head in the space between my neck and shoulder.

My hands, curl around his wrists pulling him close to me. "Nothing. Just, thinking." A paper grazes my skin, and I glance down. "What's this?"

He lifts his head, and mine comes forward. "A picture of you. Like now, you were deep in thought."

"Picture. Let me see." I try to take it from his grasp.

"Patience. Remove your hands, and I'll give it to you."

I take the photograph from him and bring it to my face. I'm sitting on the window seat in his library, a book's on my lap, but I'm not reading it, I'm wistfully gazing out the window. "Who took this and when?" I whisper as I examine it closely.

"I did," he says.

It's raw and poignant, and I know the exact moment he's captured on camera. Tilting my head back I stare up at him. "You were watching me."

Gripping my shoulders, Christian rotates me, so I'm facing him. "Don't make it sound so stalker-ish, it was innocent. I came to the library to apologize. You were sitting on the window seat, reading, and smiling profusely. A book was in your hand, but I had the sneaking suspicion it wasn't the book evoking that strong of an emotional outburst. You were happy. I didn't have to guess. I didn't have to question it; it was plastered all over your face. So, I rushed back to my office to retrieve the camera Mia had given me for Christmas. I'd never used it, not much of a desire to until today. Anyway, by the time I came back, your demeanor had changed. Staring out the window, you were reflective. Truthfully, that quiet moment was more powerful than the other- it revealed more."

"I can't believe I didn't know you were there. Normally, I feel you before I see you." I study the photo again; I was thinking about Luke. Nothing tawdry, it was rather mundane, but seeing the evidence of said thoughts, there's an air of inappropriateness. I'd come across a silly note he'd written and tucked away in my textbook. "I can't believe I was so oblivious, that I missed you." I peek up.

"Anastasia, I didn't want you too. It would've defeated the purpose. I didn't want to disturb you, I wanted the candid shot." Ripping the picture out of my hands, he analyzes it. "If the eyes are the window into the soul, the camera lens is what allows us to see through it." Angling his head, his sincere grey eyes, meet my conflicted blue orbs. "Clearly you were deep in thought. The question becomes were you thinking of me."

The corners of my mouth curve up touching the corners of my eyes. "Always." The picture in hand, Christian pulls me flush to his body kissing me lovingly.

"Mr. Grey and Miss Steele lunch is ready."

He withdraws his tongue. "I'm seriously rethinking the live- in staff situation," he mutters against my lips.

* * *

**Friday Night**

Mr. Taylor opens the door to the office above the club and Kate sashays in. Squealing like Banshees, we tiptoe fast towards each other since the stilts we're on, are too high to run in. We talked earlier, twice; for a few minutes when she first arrived, and for a much longer time once she was settled, but this is our first face to face. We size up our outfits, she's in a sophisticated red jumpsuit, I'm in eggplant mini dress by Calvin Klein. We applaud our fashion sense, and then we get down to business- fortifying my lie. We covered a lot on the phone, tonight is about tying up loose ends.

Locking arms, we walk to the sofa. "You know you can count on me, right," Kate says, breaking our bond, and we sit down, "besides you're heavily favored." Leaning in, she nudges my shoulder. "Stars are aligned perfectly. Out of the blue Amanda is banished to some far off land volunteering, Jazz is so into her boyfriend she's tuned the rest of us out, and Luke once again caved to you."

I snort. "Heavily favored suggests that the Lord condones lying. And since he's pretty clear that it's a sin, if I'm being favored it's by Lucifer."

"Ana, don't be so dramatic, you can do with a lot less, and trying being more pragmatic. You're tender hearted, but your soldier- you can pull this off. Think Destiny Childs." She winks.

I don't return her enthusiasm. "Honestly, I don't know if I want to pull it off, Kate. At the time, it made sense, but one lie begets a thousand stories. So much so, I've lost sight of the truth."

She takes my hand in hers. "Anastasia Steele. Christian Grey is your boyfriend, you're dressed to nines in designer labels down to your drawers, and Jay-Z and Kanye West, are headlining your birthday party. I'm no bible scholar, but I know Satan's work, and this ain't it. You have the Big Guy in your corner. And it's not Christian," she adds, and this makes me laugh.

Well timed, the door opens and Christian enters. "Baby, we should get going."

Kate stands. "Thank you for sending your jet to pick me up, Christian."

"Don't thank me, it was for Anastasia."

"Thank you, Ana," Kate says, dryly, and rotates forward. "Just so you know, the jet ride doesn't ammends for putting me out of my apartment." Rolling her eyes at Christian, Kate marches out of the room.

Christian smirks. "I guess I'm still on her bad side."

"As if you care."

He closes the distance between us. "You're right, I don't."

He smells divine, every time I breathe in I get a whiff of his scent, and it makes me crave him more. Tonight he's the man in black. Styled, elegantly, he's casually dressed in slacks, and a jacket sans tie and socks. It's a departure from his usual stuffy albeit sexy business attire. "You're hopeless," I say circling my arms around his waist.

"And you're sexy as hell in this dress." He cups my butt.

"Hands Mr. Grey, you don't want to ruin the merchandise."

He gives, my bum a squeeze. "Ruin, I want to fuck you right here, right now," he says, and there's a knock on the door.

Pivoting, I face him, and removing my arm, I tiptoe licking the patch of exposed skin at his throat. "Too bad we're out of time. I'd let you," I whisper.

He inhales sharply. "You made my dick twitch, you will pay for that." Adjusting the front of his slacks, he yells, "come in."

Mr. Taylor peeks his head inside. "The performers are ready; the crowd is restless; we should start making our way down."

The elegant dining room has been transformed into an intimate venue packed to capacity with a few of my closest friends. The extra security Christian hired clears a path, and Mr. Taylor leads us down it, while Luke, and Reynolds trail behind us. We reach the front row, an excited Kate and Mia greet us right away. Sitting down, I scan the rest of the row. Homer, has neutralized Lily; I won't have to worry about her. Heather is canoodling with some guy I assume is her boyfriend, and between she and Mia is an empty chair.

I sit back, and lean into Christian, "Where's Elliot?"

"At the bar, I'm sure, but he'll be disappointed."

"Why-." Elliot interrupts me.

"Dude, a bar with no alcohol," Elliot says.

I giggle. "Hi, Elliot."

"Hi, Ana." He drapes his arm over my shoulders, pulling me to his side. "I forgot. You don't drink," Elliot says. Christian smirks, but before he can say something the crowd erupts, Mark Ronson enters the stage. A distraught Elliot goes back to his seat.

Mark, greets the crowd, acknowledges Christian for arranging the event, but Christian does not stand even as the crowd warmly applauds, and his sister encourages him. Taken aback, Mark regains his footing and moves on. "We're not going to waste time, let's getting this party started right. Without further ado. Mr. Bruno Mars"

Springing to my feet, I scream at the top of my lungs. "What!" I can't believe it. My eyes land on Christian, and he's wearing a Cheshire cat grin.

Mia and Kate run up to me. "Did you know," Mia screams.

"No! I only knew about Jay-Z and Kanye. He kept this from me," I squeal. Jumping up and down the three of us join in the bedlam with the crowd.

"All I'm going to say, is let's get funk-ta-fied," Bruno, shouts, and the band launches into _Uptown Funk. _There's pandemonium.

Everyone's dancing. Grabbing Christian's hand, I haul him up from his chair. "Dance with me Grey," I say my hands in the air, my hips swaying. Christian doesn't argue, he rests his hands on my hip bone. At first, he's very chilled happy with letting me lead, then removing his hands he starts to really move and soon we're full-on dancing. Like Luke, Christian has impeccable musicality, but his movements are crisper and more fluid than his.

The song ends, and before we can chant encore, Jay-Z enters the stage rapping, "New York, New York", as Bruno Mars exits. I half expect Alia Keys to appear, but she doesn't. Which is fine, Jay-Z is handling his business. About 30 minutes later, he ends his medley with, "Crazy in Love."

Christian nudges my shoulders. "You can stop praying; Beyoncé isn't coming out." He smirks.

I giggle. "Was I that obvious?"

He nods his head. "Fingers steepled over your lips." He arches his brows. "I'd say yeah. Disappointed."

I hug his neck. "I didn't mean to seem ungrateful. I'm very happy."

He circles his arms around my back. "Maybe next time."

"Christian, I'm good." Removing my arms, I rotate forward and settle in his embrace, as Jay-Z wraps up "Crazy in Love", Kanye is at the edge of the stage. The crowd can see him, and they go wild. Jay-Z waves him on stage, and they launch into their mega-hit _Otis, _hug, and Jay-Z makes his exit. Kanye's kinetic energy takes over, and he hypes the crowds up even more then he gets them to lower the decibel to a manageable level.

"Hey, Y'all listen...listen up. I got something for the birthday girl, and it goes something like this."

My head swings around to Christian, his lips are in firm line. To protect my identity, and to keep our relationship private the event was billed as a GEH private concert for their employees? He contained, but he's not happy, I act as a buffer, and stay rooted in front of him. Besides it's a song about me, I doubt I'll be dancing.

Christian's fingers sink into my shoulders. "This should be interesting." Gently, he starts kneading. I try to rotate my head, but he won't let me. "Baby, let's hear him out. It's your party, and he penned something for you."

_Ana- Anastasia Steele uh uh_

_She's the girl the real deal uh uh_

_Christian Grey, he's worth Billions_

_But to him, Anastasia is the ultimate prize uh uh_

_She's worth Zillions_

_Like me, he's a genius they say_

_He doesn't have the heart they say_

_Anastasia Steele the real deal stole it anyway_

_He's worth Billions_

_But to him, she's the prize_

_She's all he's sees in his eyes_

_She worth zillions Uh Uh Uh_

_He has billions_

_She's worth zillions Uh_

_Anastasia Steele, the real deal_

_She's worth zillion Uh-huh_

Biting my bottom lip, I wait for the explosion. I appreciate his gesture, the song is kinda catchy, but it was disrespectful. The rap was a blatant affront to the rules Christian outlined with everyone. The fireworks never come. Instead, Christian walks up to the stage shaking Kanye's hand.

Clapping, Kate leans in. "That was interesting."

"You sound like Christian," I say.

"What's going on now. I was half-expecting Christian to send Mr. January, February, and March to the stage and take him out," she says, as Mia runs up to us.

"You're going to be so popular when that's played on the radio," she squeals.

"Really Mia, we're talking about your brother," I say.

Mia peers at the stage. "You're right." She rubs her palms together, "maybe somebody will leak it." I scowl at her, I'm too dumbfounded to respond. I can't discern if her stupidity is a lapse in judgment or an attempt at comedy. Sensing my indignation, quietly Mia walks away.

Christian makes a bee-line for me, but Elliot intercepts him just before he reaches me. "You're buying that aren't you?"

Sidestepping his brother, Christian steps to me putting his hand at the small of my back. "Damn right. I'd be damn if a song about my girl will be played for the world to hear. Bad enough, the people in here heard it."

"How much?" Elliot asks.

"We'll negotiate a dollar figure later. From what I know of Mr. West, I'm sure it will be substantial." Elliot guffaws, as he walks back to his seat.

Christian leads me back to our seats. "I thought you'd be livid," I say, as we walk.

"I'm not pleased. But I can't say I'm surprised. I knew what I was getting when I booked Kanye West. While I don't care for his music, he has proven to be a shrewd businessman. I'm sure he knew what he was doing when he wrote the lyrics. He got the response from me he was looking for; as a man who is accustomed to taking a risk in business, I can appreciate his grit."

I lean my head on his chest. "You're amazing."

Kanye completes his 30 minutes set and drops the mic. He makes a dramatic exit; then behind us, I hear. "Will the real slim shady please stand up. Please stand up." The crowd goes crazy, as Eminem descends the stairs making his way to the stage. Luckily, it's a Christian Grey event, or there would be chaos. "Happy belated birthday, baby," Christian mutters as he pulls me to his chest.

"I've run out of words, except and I repeat you're the bomb dot com." He chuckles. I rise up on my toes hugging his neck, and at that moment scanning the room, Luke's monitoring gaze settles on me. Just as quickly, I avert my eyes burying my head in the crook of Christian's neck.

A hand tugs at my dress, and Christian releases me. "Eminem," Mia squeals, apparently over tiff, she's my bestie again.

Twisting, I make eye contact with her. "I know," I say, and we start squealing.

Eminem jumps on the stage, Kate, Mia, and I start pumping our hands in the air, repeating after him, _"Please stand up. Please stand up."_

The song ends, Mia retakes her place, and I slide in closer to Kate. "Take someone on the Hawaii trip in my place," I whisper in her ear.

Eminem exits the stage the same way he came, and Mark Ronson retakes it. Christian slips his hand in mine. "The performances are done. Come on, let's get out of here, I'm ready to collect. We can hear Mark spin his music from upstairs. Plus, he'll be here all night."

"Wait. I want to tell Kate." Swiveling, I halt when I see her talking with Elliot. "Never mind." Clinging to Christian's hand, and cupping his forearm I follow as Mr. Taylor, Luke, and Reynolds leads us from the main floor to the second.

We barely make it into the office, before I'm groping him. I'm champing at the bits to be with him, more than that, every molecule of my being aches for this man. My skin tingles when he touches me, my heart races pounding out of my chest when he holds me, and the blood rushes to my head when he's about to make love to me.

"Can I close the door?" He's amused by my ardor.

The extra five inches, don't permit me to make eye contact with him, but it does give me full access to his chest, and my hands travel over it, to his shoulders inside his jacket. "If you must."

With the back of his foot, he kicks the door closed. "I must," he says shrugging his shoulders, "what is it about you and jackets lately?"

"What can I say, I prefer you naked." I help him slide his arms out of the sleeves.

"I feel so cheap, I don't think anyone has objectified me so blatantly," he says carelessly draping the jacket on the doorknob, then he hooks his arm behind my back jerking me to him. "But, I like it. I'm rubbing off on you." Tilting his head down, his tongue rims my lips, before plowing it's way through, exploring the inside of my mouth. Pulling out of the kiss, he holds me by my shoulders. "I regret, that I wasn't there to share the actual day with you."

"Christian, you're here now, and you've more than made up for anything you've missed. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me; it was my pleasure. We may be celebrating your birthday, but you're my gift. I promise to cherish you, and never take you for granted."

Audibly, I sigh. "I hate it when you're so darn, adorable."

"Then I'd better do something about that." Wrapping me up, hungrily he kisses me, and starts walking me backwards. The back of my knees bumps into the edge of the sofa, lessening the intensity, but never breaking the kiss Christian lifts the zipper on my dress, slowly lowering it down my back. Skillfully, his fingers dance over my aroused flesh as the jersey material slithers across the blades of my shoulders. Withdrawing his tongue, Christian releases me and inclines back. "Glad you didn't go with one of those beaded numbers. With you less is definitely more, you're exquisite," he says, sending chills down my spine, and the dress to the floor leaving me only in my Eris panty set and high heels. "I want to see you." Leaning over, he switches on the table top lamp.

The ambience in the room was more than sufficient with the modicum of light filtering in from downstairs through the row of well-placed block windows above his office, but the soft white light illuminating from lamp adds an ethereal quality to the mix. "I want to see you too." I parrot him.

Christian takes a deep savoring breaths as his eyes drink me in. "I love lace, but fuck this simple style fits your youthful, flirty personality best. Crooking fingers, he lifts the bra straps flicking them against my inflamed skin. "Not to mention how sexily it frames your athletic body." He pauses. " No pun intended, but I'm one lucky son of a bitch."

I take his hands, pressing them palm side down on my sides, I start at my bra line smoothing them over every contour, anchoring them at my waist. "You own these curves. My body has never felt truly alive until you touched me. You awakened every nerve ending in me." Nudging my hands away, Christian reaches behind me unfastening my bra. Grasping the straps with his index fingers, he draws them over my shoulders, down my arms, letting the bra fall to the floor. Giving me his hands, he helps me step out of the dress pooling at my feet

"Leave the shoes, I want to feel them on my shoulders when I fuck you."

"Hmm. Mmm," I moan, and cradling my back, Christian lays me down on the sofa, paying special attention to my head and neck.

"Stay there while I undress."

I shoot up onto my elbows. "Not on your life Mr. Grey, I want you to watch. No offense to Bruno, Jay, and Kanye, but you are the show."

Staring at me, his lips part, and he toes off his shoes. My eyes immediately flit to his bare feet, and I can't stifle my moan. Playfully, Christian clears his throat. "Eyes up here." My eyes dart up, a devilish grin is creeping across his sinful lips, as his fingers move to unbutton his shirt.

Torturing me, Christian takes his time seductively slipping the black buttons through the slits. I almost want to return a favor, do to him what he did to me yesterday. Timely, his shirt flies open distracting me from my retaliatory thoughts. With more vehemence he does away with the cufflinks, stuffing them into his pants pocket for safe keeping, and he shrugs out of his shirt. Drooling, I watch as the pinpoint oxford shirt, slides off his sculpted torso, chiseled to perfection as if God visited Earth and did it by hand, instead of the tireless hours running, kickboxing, weightlifting he devotes getting into the swoon worthy condition.

After the shirt falls, his pants follow. I nearly roll off the sofa, the tent in his brief is massive. The wet spot outlining the tip a reminder of his need for me. "Hmm, I think someone needs some attention."

His eyes fixed on me, Christian lets his briefs slip from his fingers falling to the floor. "Someone. Or something."

"Aha," I moan. Will I ever get used to his size; standing up he hangs to the left, lying on his back, he curves upward slightly.

I flop back down, and on one knee, Christian kneels on the edge of the sofa, easing my panties down. "Lift your ass." My butt levitates, and the sheer fabric easily slips over my hip bone, the curves of my bottom, gliding down my legs. Ending at my feet, Christian peels them over the stilettoes. Balling the panties up, he brings them to his nose. "Mm, I love how you smell," he says then he hoops them over his shoulder.

Crawling between my legs one at a time he flexes them hefting each onto his shoulders, and bending his head he buries his face in my vagina. "Christian," I gasp.

His head lifts, I come back up on my elbows and through my lashes peer down at him. There's a lascivious gleam in his eyes, but there's also a tinge of warmth and tenderness as he searches my face. "Where did you even come from." He sighs. "I love you more than I'd ever thought possible. My heart has to swell, to contain it all."

"Christian." I choke back the tears, "I love you too." Pressing on my stomach, he pushes me back to the sofa.

His fingers sink into my thighs, crushing them back against my waist, and lowering his head, he parts my nether lips with his tongue. He licks my vagina from top to bottom. My whole body quivers. Holding my thighs in place he sucks, nibbles, and then stiffening his tongue Christian applies pressure to the bundle of nerves. Unable to contain the fire raging in me, I explode. It's fast and hard. Lapping up my juices, he lowers my legs and comes up to my face. In quick succession, he places three chaste kisses on my lips transferring my juices from his to mine. Still not my favorite taste, but it's so erotic I'll suffer through it until it becomes a craving. "You're mine," Christian murmurs against my lips.

"Yes, yours," I pant, and I don't have time to bask in the afterglow, he starts planting a series of butterfly kisses at the corners of my mouth, and jawline, before canoodling my neck.

Feathering additional kisses across my chest, and my breasts Christian takes the swollen mounds into his hands gently kneading them, and my eyes close on a guttural moan as it escapes me. I purr, and he runs the pads of his thumbs over the sensitive erect buds, before flicking each with his tongue. "Are they sore?"

"Hmm," I moan, "no, you have them so sensitive."

Giving each a firm, but tender squeeze, Christian unfurls his fingers and hovers over me. The scars dotting his chest are conspicuous in a stream of light streaking in from a window. Like metal to a magnet I'm drawn to them, and holding his gaze I rest my palms on his chest. His skin is flushed and warm to the touch, and as my palms glide across the plane of his chest, I feel his horror in each ugly scab. Christian closes his eyes, and his head lolls back. At the base of his throat, I see not hear his breath when it catches.

His head falls forward and lifting one hand he grips my wrist putting it to his lips. "Your touch is an aphrodisiac, and an elixir, but save your pity for the children who will go to bed hungry tonight in Africa. For a child in this country who every other day will die from gun violence, or the children all around the globe that don't have a safe place to call home. Don't waste it on me."

Tugging my hand away, I cup the side of his face, and he inclines into my touch. "My heart aches for all those children, but it only beats for you."

Christian cups wrist holding my hand in place. "I'm overwhelmed. You slay me." He removes my hands, the view of his face is unobstructed. There's a new look, one I do not know, and when he stares at me with this new look, it destroys me. "I love you," he mutters, lowering himself down by his elbows. His words echo in my ear, settling in my soul feeding it.

The tip of his tongue caresses the contours of my lips, and oh so gently he coaxes them apart; cradling my head in the crook of his arm, Christian intensifies the kiss. My arms constrict around him; as best I can, I compress his skin to my skin. I don't want any separation; I want him thrumming through my veins. "I don't have your wealth, or capability to launch a grandiose crusade on your behalf, but I can help you bear your burden," I murmur against his lips.

"Baby, it's not a burden, it never was; a void at best, but you've filled it." Moving a loose wave behind my ear, he rims the shell with his tongue. "You want to do something for me." I nod my head. "Let me make love to you."

We unravel our bodies, I covet his face; he's painfully gorgeous, alluringly tormented, and he loves me little old Anastasia Steele. I don't know if he's my forever, but he's my forever love. "I will, but let me do something first." Abandoning his face, I reach for his cock. "I think it's your turn, Mr. Grey," I say salaciously.

Rolling off of me, Christian helps me to the floor and spreading his legs he fists his cock. Kneeling between his thighs, I watch mesmerized by his hand going up and down his shaft bringing a bead of the silky, white liquid to the tip. "I'm waiting."

Resting my hands on his muscular thighs, I lick the tip. "You taste divine," I say, sucking him into my mouth taking him to the back of my throat.

"Fuck," Christian yells out, as his hands tangle in my hair pulling it at the root. Good thing, the music is blaring it drowns out his noise, or we'd have a repeat of yesterday. Drawing harder and harder on his erection, my head bobbles as his hands dictates my rhythm. "Damn baby." Christian growls. "It's so fucking hot watching my dick disappearing and reappearing in your mouth," he mutters.

To speak, I pull back to the tip, but he forces my mouth back down on his cock. As he pushes me all the way down, I feel the protruding veins on his cock against my tongue. The pulsating member jerks and he floods my mouth with his cum. I swallow as fast as it spews and sucking the tip I clean him dry. Releasing him, I stand upright on my knees dragging the back of my hand across my lips. Reaching down Christian cups my face with both hands kissing me ferociously. "I repeat, are you even real?"

Audibly I sigh. "You're kidding me right, that's a question saved for you."

"I love you." He removes his hands. "Now I need to be inside you." I glance down, the semi-erect cock is now fully erect.

"Jesus. Are you a machine?"

His cocky smirk makes an appearance. "I think you, know the answer to that."

Sliding his arms underneath mine, he drags me up by my shoulders blades, lowering me on every pulsating inch of his cock. "Oh Gawd, Christian," I cry out as I struggle to straddle his thighs.

"That's right baby, take the dick," he says forcing my aching wetness down his long thick shaft until he's filling every space in my core. And as my walls clench around him, he grips my waist, his fingers biting into my skin he presses me down on the base holding me there.

"Ugh," I grunt, it's unladylike, but I can't contain it, he's bottoming out at my cervice. I only know the lingo, Christian has whispered it in my ear so often. Listing, my arms encircle his neck, and covering my teeth, I bare down on his shoulder muffling my moans, as he lifts my hip up and down his erection.

"Shit, Anastasia," Christian grunts, and removing his hands from my waist he leaves me to do the work. I ride him, as hard, and fast, as I can consider his length, and girth. "Damn," he pants, and peeling my arms from his neck, Christian laces his fingers with mine. My head tips back.

"Christian, I love you." Untangling our finger, Christian reaches between us and starts kneading my over the sensitized clit. The sensation of the slick nub, sliding between Christian's masterful fingers is Oh-My-Gawd. "Sheesh! help me," I babble as my body jerks, my orgasm hitting me hard, and heavy.

"Fuck me," Christian growls, as again he screws me through my climax on the race to his.

Riding out our orgasms, I lock my legs around his waist, burying the heels of my shoes into his lower back. "Thank you, that was incredible." Sleepily, I say laying the side of my face on his shoulder.

He smoothes his hand, down my air. "Hmm, sex, and Ana. I love the smell. An intoxicating mix." He sighs. "I haven't had my fill of you yet," Christian murmurs.

I incline back. "Can, I rest first?"

He chuckles. "Yes, baby, we can rest."

"Christian?" I say groggily.

"Yesss."

"How, did you know to choose those artists?"

"As a CEO, it's my business to be attentive, as your boyfriend it's my mission."

"Oh."

"Not to mention, you play rap music excessively."

"I don't."

He squeezes my back. "Baby, are you sleeping. You're slurring your words. You really are worn out."

"No." I rotate the side of my face. "I'm just exhausted, from the excitement of the whole week. But I could get used to this; our bodies glued to each other, by our sweat, and cum."

We stay locked together until he stirs. I feel him growing inside me, and a bolt of energy perks me up. "Baby," he says softly, testing the water.

I lift my head. "I feel it, Mr. Grey," I say peeling my limbs from him.

"You want to clean up, first."

I glance down. "That's probably a good idea." As I walk away, Christian pops me on my behind "Ouch."

"Just a reminder, that your ass is mine too." I move my hands, knowing that he's watching, I add an extra sway to my hips as, I walk. Five-inch heels are not the boss of me.

* * *

**Kate POV**

Elliot comes up to me. "What a party, huh?

"Yes. Christian Grey style," I say, "over the top."

Elliot, glances over his shoulder. "Ana's happy."

I turn around. "Yes. She is."

"I called it, you doubted me."

"I didn't doubt you, I just didn't want to get her hopes up."

He nudges me with his elbow. "They're leaving; I wonder where they're going."

Out the corner of my eyes, I see Ana peek over, and I pretend to be enthralled with Elliot. "I don't know. Is there an after party?"

"Nope, but we can have our own."

"Elliot get serious."

"I am serious. But if I had to guess, Christian has a plush but cramped office upstairs."

"I as up there, to your brother it might be cramp, but to the rest of us peons it's rather large."

"If you say so, I'm not working, so I'm not going to have an architectural argument with you." He touches my elbows "Let's go to the bar unless you want to dance."

"Bar. I could use some water. I mean I prefer wine. But can you do?"

"We could get out of here?"

"Elliot Grey, are you trying to get me in the sack."

"Yes, that's when we were at our best." We both get quiet-introspective.

I wrap my hand around his. "Come on, I'm thirsty." We inform Mia, and head to the bar.

Elliot pulls out my stool. "I'm guessing, you didn't tell Ana, why we called it quit."

"I didn't see the need." Soon as the bartender puts the waters down, I pick up a glass.

"What about now?"

"Elliot you said yourself, she's happy." We both sip our waters. "Where's your date?"

"I knew you'd be here; didn't want to cause Ana any anxiety. Ruin her night."

I snort. "Of course Ana."

"Careful Kate your fangs are showing." He winks.

I kick him. "I'll ignore that."

"Ouch." He rubs his knee. "I thought girls were, about telling their girl everything."

"Why the gender bias, both sexes are equally inept at keeping secrets, and that includes Ana."

He shrinks back. "Ana. What secret is Ana, keeping from my brother."

"My God, Elliot when did you become so naïve? I'm talking about in general. It has nothing to do with Christian." Drinking my water, I roll my eyes at him. "I like cynical Elliot better."

He chuckles. "I miss you."

I stroke his hand. "I miss you too, we were good together."

"Too bad, I wasn't enough."

Nodding my head, I gesture upstairs. "I'm not sure where they were, but judging by Ana's hair, I know what they were doing." Elliot head's dart up to the stairs, and; as soon as, Ana and Christian head in our direction I slide down the stool. "Come on let's get out here," I say, locking my hands with his.


	44. Chapter 44: The Home That Built Me

**Chapter 44:** The Home That Built Me

**Disclaimer: FSOG belongs to EL James**

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay. I spent the last month with my 80-year-old mother. Giving her all my attention, I didn't write. I flew back home today I was able to get my thoughts down. So I hope you enjoy. Thank you for patience, and thank you for reading, reviewing, and following me…

**Monday**

Pouting I pat the seat on the expansive gap separating us. Twenty miles outside of Portland, and Christian remains immersed in the same contract he started reviewing; as soon, as we pulled out of the garage at Escala. "Hey."

The pages lower, and amused grey eye meet mine. "Hi. Done with your book?"

My head droops. "See a book." Lifting my head, I make sure he catches the sarcasm brimming in my eyes. "For this, I could've driven my new car."

Incredulously Christian glares, analyzing me. "You didn't want your SUV on campus." He purses his lips. "Something about garish."

Releasing an elongated sigh, I twist in the seatbelt resting my knee on the soft leather. Meeting his dubious stare, I raise it one suspecting gawk. "Nooo. We agreed that it was best to keep our relationship on the down low until I graduated; showing up on campus with an expensive new luxury vehicle would undermine the plan. It would arouse people's suspicion and get the street committee's tongues a wagging. Besides, I only said it to get your attention."

A smug smile taints his lips, and he stuffs the document into his case, giving me a come hither look. I unfasten my seatbelt, and he grabs my wrist hauling me across the seat to him. Safety paramount, Christian drags the middle seatbelt over me snapping it into place then his fingers trace the outlines of mouth. "Feeling neglected, eh," he whispers, his words caress my lips.

"Uh huh," I moan. Angling his head down Christian slips his tongue into my parted lips as his hand glides into my hair cupping me at the back of my head holding me in place.

My arms rotate, one awkwardly moves inside his jacket at his waist, the other up and smoothly inside at his shoulder, kneading his muscles through the jacquard fabric of his crisp white shirt. The tips of my fingers rim his collar, as I search for the erogenous zone on his neck. I graze the silkiness of his tie, the juxtaposition of it to the stiffness of his collar is erotic to my fingertips. Our heads twist from side to side, as our hands wildly grope each other wantonly seeking any kind of relief considering our state of dress, positions of our bodies, and the accidental interloper occupying the front seat.

The car comes to a standstill, and the engine dies. "We're here sir," Mr. Taylor announces.

We disengage. "That was fast," Christian mutters against my lips, and I giggle, "what did you do find another speed." We were so locked into each other we were oblivious to the outside world; the cars passing us by, the scenery we must have passed, and the inevitable passage of time. Arguably, the first 80 miles were a crawl, but the last 20 were definitely a sprint.

In the rearview mirror, I detect Mr. Taylor stifling his amusement. "No Sir, same speed from beginning to the end. The speed limit," he says deadpan.

Christian rolls his eyes, as he adjusts his tie. Doing the same to my t-shirt, I pop the seatbelt and hustle back to my corner. I glance out the window, there's heavy foot traffic, in front of Starbucks with people rushing to and fro anxious for their morning java fix. "I guess, I should button this," Christian blurts out.

My head snaps around, I ogle his face then my eyes travel down landing on the tent in his slacks. I snicker. "It'll be down by the time you make it to the hotel."

Deftly, he fiddles with the single button on his jacket. "About that, I'm walking you in," he tells me.

I stop fumbling with my backpack. "What!"

"I'm walking-"

I thrust my hands up. "I heard you." I sigh. "What happened to being discreet?"

Smirking, he peers out my window then his. "It'll be discreet. Don't see any paparazzi, you?"

I slide my arms through the shoulder straps of my backpack. "I give up. I'm not going to win anyways." Leaning forward, I drag the straps up my shoulders until the bag fits snuggly on my back. " I should've known you were up to something when you insisted on riding the entire way with me."

"Remind me of your schedule please."

"The meeting right now, the appointment with Dr. Ryan, picking up my Beetle, meeting you at the hotel, and then work." I rattle off the itinerary as I gaze out the car window.

"Luke will meet you outside, after your meeting," he says.

Agitated, I whip my head around. "I'm not in kindergarten, you know," I say glowering at him.

"Baby, calm down. I'm just going to escort you to the meeting the room," he says, and Mr. Taylor opens his door.

"Butte hole," I mumble, as he slides out of the car.

"I heard that."

"Good," I yell back, as Mr. Taylor closes his door.

Together, they come to my side. Mr. Taylor opens the door, and Christian offers me his hand. He tugs, pulling me to his chest, and tilting his head down he puts his lips to my ear. "Someone is begging for a spanking," he murmurs and licks the outer shell.

Grunting, I yank my hand from his and peel away from him. I start marching putting as much distance as possible between me and the two impeccably dressed men. I'm not worried about photographers like Christian pointed out there aren't any; Portland isn't teeming with them like Seattle. I'm more concerned that one of the locals will recognize him. However; my uneasiness doesn't pan out, he blends in with the early morning well-suited crowd. Sure his pretty face garners the prerequisite ogling, but other than that we make it out of the main part unscathed.

I touch his arm. "Okay, this is far enough." Taking my head, I gesture down the hall. "The room is right there. The front wall is made of glass; I don't want to risk them seeing you."

"Ashamed of me."

Heavily, I sigh. "Yeah, that's it." Rolling my eyes at the ceiling, I stalk off.

I can't resist. Before I open the door, I peek over my shoulder. Christian and Mr. Taylor are standing in the same place. No doubt, it's at Christian's insistent. I smile at his overprotectiveness. It can be brutal at times, but its one of the ways he shows his love so I'm learning to not only accept it but appreciate it.

"Somebody's in a good mood," Nick says, as I close the door.

"Who, me," I reply.

Nick eyes me speculatively. "Duh. Yes, you. What gives?"

"What kind of the question is that? Leave Ana only, she's happy," Mary says.

"My point exactly, Ana is rarely happy. It must have been a hell of a Spring break," Nick retorts.

Slipping the backpack off my shoulders, I slide into the empty seat. "Same old same-" Mr. Taylor enters the room, and I feel the blood draining from my face.

Sitting quietly, with everyone else I watch as he whispers something in Nick's ear. "I'll be back in a few guys," Nick says following him out of the room.

When the door closes, there's a chorus of," I wonder who's that, and what's that all about." Dazed and confused, I close my eyes and wait for the next shoe to drop.

* * *

**CPOV**

His steps stutter and his arms jut out just missing Jason. "Whoa, you're Christian Grey." Excitingly, the asshole says. Jason's warning glance is the only thing that prevents my hand from connecting with his face. His frat-boy arrogance is nauseating.

I step in closer, his imposter cologne permeates my nostrils. "No shit, Sherlock." I snap, glaring down my nose at him. "This isn't a fucking job interview." Gulping, he swallows his words and the shit-eating grin. "Not so tough now, that you're standing in front of a real man."

His face pales. "I don't understand." He stammers.

"Then I'll make it easy for you. Put your fucking hands on my girlfriend again, and one at a time I will break each finger. Then I will move on to the rest of the bones in your body." The cock sucking frat boy is reduced to a pansy. His sad disposition has rendered any further discussion moot. "Now. Please have my girlfriend step out for a moment."

"Who's your girlfriend?" His voice cracks.

The corners of my mouth curve up. "Anastasia Steele." His mouth gapes open as wide as his eyes.

Jason ushers him back to the conference room, and almost immediately Anastasia emerges. She's livid, I don't need binoculars, even from where I'm standing her displeasure is readable.

In no time, she reaches me and scrutinizes my face. "What's going on Christian?" Quizzically, she says.

"Nothing. I had a nice little chat with your would-be rapist," I say matter a factly.

She scowls at me. "Which means you threatened him?" I can't contain the smirk inching across my face. "Gawd Christian. What happened to I just want to walk you in."

"Timing. I remembered that he'd be leading the group, so I took advantage of the opportune time."

"Right. You expect me to believe this wasn't planned. Please. The true question is how long." Pacing in place, she throws her hands in the air. "Great!" I grab her shoulders stilling her. "How am I supposed to go back in there now," she says.

Gaping at her hard, I force Anastasia to look at me. "You don't have anything to worry about, Taylor is in there taking care of things as we speak. He's handing out NDA's."

She knocks my hands away. "We're in public, so let's not do this here." She cups the side of my face, and I nuzzle into her small, but comforting hand. "I love the way you love me. Care for me, protect me, but you do it with such vim and vigor, it's suffocating."

Wincing, I curve my fingers around her tiny wrist, pulling her hand back. "I'm suffocating you?"

With her index finger, and thumb Anastasia makes the universal pinching sign the rest of the world may find endearing; to me, it's immature and condescending. "Just, a wee bit," she says, squinting her eyes. "Not in every area, but my security yes. Nick, and I have made our peace. He apologized, I accepted it. I can take care of myself. You have to trust me."

I run my hand through my hair. "He tried to rape you. I'm sorry, an apology doesn't suffice. It doesn't do it for me. If I had my druthers, he'd be in a prison cell next to the other losers who dare to cross me."

"Did you hear yourself, this isn't about me."

"I did, and it wasn't a slip of the tongue, it was intentional. Something happens to you, it happens to me. Someone hurts you, they hurt me."

"We'll talk about it later, I need to get back. Get out of here before someone recognizes you. We shouldn't test fate. Be smart, not a hothead."

"Aye, captain." She smiles broadly, capturing another slice of my heart.

"I so want to hate you, but you're so darn cute."

"Cute."

She giggles. "Yes cute," she repeats turning forward, and clumsily bumping into Taylor. "Oh, sorry."

"You're good, Miss Steele," Taylor says.

"No, it's my fault I should've been paying better attention." She cuts her eyes at me and then she looks at Jason. "Mr. Taylor, I pity you, all the crap you have to do in his name."

What the fuck, Jason has the audacity to permit a smile to cross his face. "Thank you, but there's no need for pity. It's not simply my job, it's my pleasure," he says sardonically. Anastasia flashes him a toothy smile that's supposed to be only for me, I have a moment of pure envy. She must sense my resentment because she blows me a kiss as she eases down the hall.

Ensuring Anastasia is out of sight, Jason brings his hand forward, revealing the NDAs'. "Everyone signed."

His face tightens. "Yes, sir," he responds curtly.

"Great, let's get out of here," I say ignoring his annoyance. "We have another stop."

We arrive at the cluster of nondescript office buildings. The gravel crunches under the tires of the Audi as Taylor pulls into the driveway. He hastily parks the SUV at an angle, it hardly rolls to a stop, and I'm out the back door. Quickly Jason kills the engine and leaps out after me catching up to me at the entrance. He opens the door, and I bypass the large directory greeting us, the suite number is fresh in my head from the background check. Maneuvering the corner, we head down the hallway. When we reach the office, I signal for Taylor to wait for me outside.

The nameplate on the door provides me a moment of comic relief but it doesn't last, I turn the doorknob and barge into the office. Gone are her long flowing locks, the only things to move with her head are the earrings dangling from her lobes. "Clever name. So, it's amalgamation of Reyna, and what?" I say, the ominous tone of my voice matches the crash of the door as I banish it from my hand, and it collides with the frame.

Fire bolts shoot my way as her bulging eyes latch onto me in surprise. Acclimating to the sight of me, she lays down her pen and glasses. Bemused eyes follow my every footstep as I approach the desk. "Well, well Christian Grey."

Pressing my knuckles into the desk, I crane my neck. "You think you could fuck with me, and get away with it."

The sardonic smile on her face fades into something more sinister. "I'll forgive you, it's been awhile. You think you can storm into my office, raise your voice at me, make demands, and I'd jump. You've got your women mixed up." She clasps her hands behind her head. "Your appearance doesn't surprise me, I knew you'd show sooner or later, granted I was hedging my bet towards later. I didn't think she'd come clean to you so soon. And if I'm honest, and I pride myself on being so, your tired made for TV movie threats are boring if not predictable."

"Why wouldn't she, we don't have any secrets."

Robotically, her arms move down to her side. "Good for you two. Your lips are moving as the words leave your mouth, but your eyes are telling a different story. You're slipping Christian, I'm sure Elena taught you better than that."

"You want to play hardball?" My fists lift, and standing erect, my eyes hold her captive. "I'll play. Drop Anastasia as a patient." I let my eyes dart from corner to corner in the relatively small, sparsely decorated space. Your run of the mill Therapist office, I'd expected more from someone with such a flamboyant personality. "Or I'll ruin this makeshift life you've created." Her smile dips. "Ah, got your attention." I lift my brows. "Not so tired. Or empty."

Her chair rolls closer to the desk, and she inclines over it. "You're a shark Christian-."

"Mr. Grey."

Her eyes mock me. "You do know that won't work on me?"

Stepping back, I loosen my jacket and playing her game I sit down on the sofa. "Once a Dominatrix, always Dominatrix?" Crossing my legs, I throw my arms across the low back of it.

Her eyes stay glued to me as she rises, and moves from behind her desk, to her Dr's perch in front of me. "Lesson learned, strong women exist outside of BDSM. That world is part of my past, I'm simply Dr. Ryan now."

"There's nothing simple about you, I have my memory and a whole dossier to prove it."

"As I was about to say before you so rudely interrupted me. You're a shark, your domain is the ocean, why are you wading in the kiddie pool?"

I drop my arms and sit forward resting my elbows on my knees. "As much fun as I'm having with this old home's week, let's cut to the chase. You're working with Anastasia Steele because of me."

She chortles. "You think I orchestrated this, you're giving me too much credit."

"So, she just landed in your lap. I don't believe in that much coincidence."

"You're a smart man. Think about it, why would I intentionally cross paths with you? Ana was going through a tough time. Needed some guidance, someone referred her to me. Simple as that."

"There's that word again," I smirk. "Who?

"Ask her, you have no secrets."

I sit up. "I'm well aware of how these sessions work, so I'll need you to sign an NDA. I'm certain you've been privy to some private information about me."

Studying her face, I see her concentrating on my secrets; the baby, and all the other shit Anastasia felt compelled to share. "You know that's not necessary," she says wrenching me from the depths of my thoughts. "One, I wouldn't divulge anything about you. Two, and most importantly there is something called Dr. patient confidentiality."

"One, I don't trust you. Two, I'm not your patient."

"True. But everything Miss Steele and I talked about in our sessions, including you, falls under the umbrella."

I pull the NDA out of my jacket and toss it at her. "Humor me." She catches it. "Aside from me, I'm sure you covered the other men in Anastasia's life," I say as she reviews the document.

Placing the paperwork on her lap, with devious intent she stares intently into my eyes. "Ah," she cackles, "now we're getting somewhere. Sorry, didn't mean to laugh but it's refreshing, if not unbelieving to see the great Christian Grey jealous. I'm sure your ex-submissives would find it just as amusing. All that blustering comes down to this. The Dominate in you wants to control her, but at the end of the day you're just a man vulnerable- you've fallen under her spell. She's flipped the script on you. Tell me how does it feel being the one doing the chasing? This isn't just about throwing your weight around. You're on a fact-finding mission, you want to find out about your competitor. Sorry, to disappoint you." She scrunches up her face. "Dr. Patient confidentiality. Ask her, what did you say, 'there are no secrets.' "

Standing up, I button my jacket. "As charming as you are, I'm bringing this bull shit to an end." I walk the few paces to her chair; bending down I cup the armrests. Blinking uncontrollably, she tries to fix her eyes on mine. "Let me repeat, drop Anastasia Steele as a client." Removing my hands, I stand upright.

"This wasn't a game. I wasn't hunting for dirt on you. As competent a young woman as she is, Ana is troubled. She has real problems. What about her needs. Shouldn't this be her decision."

"No."

She glares at me. "Your impulse is to be a Dom, when what she needs is a boyfriend. A boyfriend would encourage her to seek help. He did."

"You're trying my patience, but here's a chance for you to redeem yourself. Leila Williams. When's the last time you've seen or spoken to her?"

Her head shrinks back. "You've got to be kidding me, I'm pleading Ana's case, and you want to talk about Leila Williams. I'm getting whiplash trying to keep up with you. Are you here about your girlfriend." She puts girlfriend in air quotes. "Or your ex-submissive? I told you BDSM, is part of my past, which means I don't facilitate others in the lifestyle either. I have no information to offer you on Leila Williams. It appears you've hit another dead end." Her head tilts to the side. "Elena must be proud of you. She said you were the master of your universe, and here I just thought you were another pretty face."

I give her one of my panty dropping smiles. "I wonder what the people in your life would think of Reyna Bouchard. Especially the medical board." Panic consumes her, and the façade crumbles. "Do, I need to open up the dossier or file it away. The choice is yours. I can ruin your life in one phone call. Cat got your tongue. Let me help you. Say my name."

"Mr. Grey."

"Good girl, you must have been a very fine submissive. My dick just twitched, watching your lips struggle to get my name out. If I were the man you think I am, I'd make you strip to your underwear, slide out of that chair to your knees, and suck my dick. " Her breath hitches. "But I'm a boyfriend." I check my watch. "That doesn't mean I've lost my edge. Anastasia is due here in about 30 minutes. Which means you have about 30 minutes before your house of cards comes crashing down on you," I bark, and saunter to the door. My hand touches the knob, and she cries out.

"She scares you- she's a wild card you can't contain or control. You don't want her to get help because you're afraid that despite all you can offer her, she'll come to the conclusion that you're not what she needs. He is. She's young, inquisitive, and in spite of her insecurities, she's strong. She deserves better." I jerk the door open. "It'll come to the light. He'll always be better for her than you." Her words carry through the door as I slam it close. I endured her onslaught, but the last sentence stung. Taylor knows it.

"What would you like for me to do Mr. Grey?"

"Take me to the Heathman."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

**ANA POV**

I slide into the front seat, for show. "Who's the guy?" Luke says.

"Keeping tabs on me for your boss." I snap my seatbelt in place.

"No. I don't recognize him."

"Sean. He's a friend. I met him after you left."

"That seemed liked a heavy conversation for friends."

"Leave it alone Luke, it's nothing," I say, and he starts laughing. "What's so funny."

"You. The expression on your face mirrors the one you were wearing when I caught you and Grey."

I roll my eyes at him. "I doubt that." He keeps chuckling. "What happened to the ironclad control you Christian Grey disciples pride yourselves on."

"C'mon on, you have to admit it was hella funny."

"No, I don't. I don't see the humor in having your current boyfriend's face buried in your twat while your ex looks on."

He holds his hands up. "Hey, I didn't look, I did the gentlemanly thing, and turned away."

"A little late, you'd already seen too much."

He twists in his seat. "Okay, let's get real here. I'm tasked with watching over you, there are bound to be some awkward situations so if we're going to make this work we need to be able to laugh."

"How can you be so blasé?"

"I'm not blasé, I'm pragmatic. You're with Grey, and I have to give it to the guy, he's pulling out all the stops to win you over. Friday night, for example, it made my present look like child's play."

I touch his hand. "There's no comparison, I loved each equally." My phone beeps, Dr. Ryan's name, appears on the screen. "Dr. Ryan. Maybe she's rescheduling."

Luke nods his head. "Well, you better answer it before she hangs up."

Removing my hand off of his, I pick the phone up from my lap. "Hello."

"What's wrong?" Luke says.

I stop staring at the cell and meet his gaze. "She just dropped me."

"Who? Dr. Ryan."

"Yes. She said couldn't be my Dr. anymore, she'll send me a list of referrals."

"Did she say why."

Sighing audibly, I close my eyes and tilt my head back against the headrest. "She didn't have too." My head pops forward. "I have some idea. This has Christian written all over it."

"It doesn't make sense. Why would he care about your Therapist?"

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out. Take to the Heathman, I'll pick up my car later."

"Let's say you're right, you need to calm down before you approach him. Ana, I know that look; you're out for blood."

I huff. "Men. You stick together no matter what."

"This isn't some kind of bro code; I'm thinking about you. Why work yourself into a frenzy, when we all know how it will play out. You'll say something, he'll say something harsher because he doesn't use kid gloves. You'll cry-."

"And you'll be there to dry my tears," I say sarcastically.

He sighs. "Cocky, aren't we. But you're right. I will, then what, he'll apologize, and you'll forgive him."

"Luke maybe you're right, I'm a foregone conclusion. Still, I need to stand up for myself, or he'll steamroll over me."

"Let me do this, reach out to JT and see what I can find out. Now that you're in the mix, protocol dictates that we notify each other of anything out of the ordinary to prepare for the fallout. So, far I've heard nothing."

"Because, it's not out of the ordinary for them. Did you hear about what happened earlier, before you arrived?"

"No. What." I recount for Luke what occurred with Nick. "You're not going to like this, but I'm with Grey on this one. I would've done the same thing to the bastard."

"Maybe, but you would've been more considerate of my feelings. It doesn't matter, just take to the Heathman."

Luke pulls into the Heathman's garage and parks in the secure area designated for high profile guests. His disproval is evident on his face when he opens my door. I ignore it and follow him to the elevator. We're quiet as it hauls us upward. We can ride in a car together, no qualms, but the close confinements of an elevator and our story comes alive. The steel cage is pulsating with electricity; I'm elated when we reach our destination. The doors slide open, and Luke holds them open for me as I step out.

He grabs my elbow, as I clear the threshold, and the steel doors slide together. "I'm proud of you. Never stop standing up for yourself," he says, and he releases my arm. "Good luck. I'll be right here if you need me." I offer him a tight smile in return, but no words.

Purposefully I stroll down the hallway, but bit by bit my nerves peel away until I'm naked in front of the suite. Fumbling in my backpack, I fish out the key. Why I didn't have it available sooner, I don't know. But the time allowed my confidence to return, and the adrenaline is pumping by time the door opens. I don't just walk in; my feet glide across the foyer. It's quiet. I search for him as I amble further inside.

He enters the main room from the bedroom and shoves the phone in his pocket when he spots me. "Baby. What are you doing here?"

I walk up to him. "Don't baby me," I snarl, and I punch him on his chest. He doesn't flinch, my hand bears the brunt of the assault, but the smarting doesn't deter me. "What have you have done Christian?"

"Anastasia, I have no idea what you're talking about."

I let the water drain down my face like from a faucet. "Dr. Ryan," I garble. "How could you." I swipe the tears away with the back of my hands. "I confided in you. You knew how important this session was to me." I swipe again. "The guidance she's given me. The positive impact she has had on my life." He attempts to draw me into his arms, I fling my arms up blocking him. "Don't you dare touch me."

He grimaces. "Your anger is misdirected, let's sit down and talk about it."

"Why. You won't listen. It's not enough that you have my mind, my body, my soul- you want my life too. Regardless of what you think, we're not one in the same. You don't get to make arbitrary decisions about my life for me. It's not much, but it's mine, and you can't have it." Pivoting, I head for the door.

"Anastasia, where are you going? Where's Luke?"

Pausing I keep my back to him as my breathing settles, tears still hot on my cheeks I reel forward. "Waiting for me."


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter 45: **Against All Odds

**Disclaimer: FSOG belongs to EL James**

**A/N:**

**Please enjoy. **Thank you for your patience. I appreciate you reading, following, and reviewing my story. Enjoy- Thank you

Lurching, Christian reaches for me. "Anastasia," he barks, but I'm too quick. Backpedaling, I caused him to miss, and then I bolt. "Where do you think you're going?" he says in his-I'm-in-control tone. He severely underestimated the depth of my wrath thinking his not so subtle threat would bring me to heel. Not today, I'm not in the mood.

On my way out, I yell, "Screw you." Roaring my name, he dashes after me, and aptly the door thunderously crashes to the frame cutting him off. Slouching against it, the water trails down my cheeks, as Anastasia reverberates through the wood. Lifting the back of my head from what feels like oak to the touch, I cast a glance down the hallway. In my watery vision, his shadowy figure is distorted, but his movement is crisp. Stammering off the door, I escape one man seeking solace in another. Luke, and I meet somewhere near the middle, the proximate distance to Christian's suite is nominal, but it might as well be in another zip code, I'm so comfortable melting into Luke's demonstrative embrace.

The damn breaks. "I got you," he mutters.

"Tha-n-k you," I croak.

Luke cradles my head to his chest, swaying from side to side. "That was quick," he murmurs and stilling he angles his head down. "Are you okay?"

Tears have permeated the threads on the jacket of his well-tailored uniform, the dampness is bringing out the odorous smell of the wool. Sniffling, I rotate my face. "No -" A door slams, and I jump, my eyes darting from corner to corner.

Luke's muscular arms, roots me to the floor keeping me from leaping out of my skin. "What?"

Fixating on the perpetrator, another high- profile patron, I drift my words abandoning me. One small piece of luggage and he couldn't be bothered with properly closing the door. The entitlement. Staring past the stranger, I check my disdain, I'm transferring my raw and mixed emotions to him. I'm relieved, at the same time, I'm disappointed it's not Christian. He didn't break down the door chasing after me- it's sobering.

"Take me home, please. I want to go home," I whimper.

Untangling his arms, Luke drapes one over my shoulders. "C'mon." Enveloped in his warmth, I snake my arm around his waist, and as we amble to the elevator, I immerse myself in mindlessly counting the number of triangles with shaded in squares in their center. The geometric pattern on the carpeting in its autumnal colors of oranges, reds, and yellows is a convenient distraction, and oddly soothing.

* * *

**Luke's POV. **

My shoulder slumps against the doorframe, and gathering the ends of the blanket together, I cross my feet at the ankles and do what I've coveted since I'd arrived - watch her. Not guard her, protect her, or any of the descriptions outlined in my employment contract, it's simply for my pleasure. The sunlight shimmering through the blind is giving her lithe frame an angelic aura, but her shuddering shoulders dispel the celestial notion. Her indisputable pain is due to his persistent arrogant self- serving behavior. Selfishly, I defer consoling her for one more stolen moment in the background. I'd taken this mundane act for granted, foolishly thinking she'd always belong to me when in truth she never did. I vacillate between the what if and the what is now. I loved her so much I wanted to understand everything about her. What made her sad, so I could I make her smile. What made her cry, so I'd be sure not to repeat it. And what touched her heart, so I could own a piece of it. Alas, unbeknownst to me his grip on it was insurmountable.

I study her slumping profile, and I zone out. It's already happening, she's demoralized, he's zapping her of her essence, her inner-goddess I like to call it. It's disheartening, and in some ways I'm too blame- I gave in too fast. On the flipside, he's trying too hard, but in the end, she's the one suffering for our ineptness. It's a shame when in the big scheme of things, Ana doesn't require a lot-."

Her throat clears, the head I didn't realize had drooped pops forward, and inwardly, I cringe at the thought of missing something- a flinch, twitch, her slightest movement is art in motion. "Lu-ke," she hiccups.

My gaze latches onto hers, and I rise from the doorframe. "Hey, you," I say, closing the door, sauntering back into the room.

"I didn't know you were there."

"I know. You were too busy rubbing the sparkles of those diamonds."

Her swollen lips turn up in a half-smile. "Just trying to get some perspective."

Snapping the blanket, I open it up for her. "Is this it?" She nods in the affirmative. "Who knew there was a difference between a blanket and an afghan. Who knew there was such thing as an afghan." I chuckle, carefully laying it across her legs.

Ana sniffs. "It's crocheted. Usually, a blanket is not," she says under her breath.

"Hmm," I grunt, and pointing my head, I gesture at the window. "Do you want me to close the curtains?"

"No, the sunlight feels good on my face," she simpers.

Bending down, I cup her chin wiping my thumb across her tear-drenched cheeks swiping them away. "Shhh. Why so many tears it's not that bad," I whisper

"Yes, it is," she sobs.

Releasing her face, I nudge her to gain some real state to crawl into bed with her. I make sure I'm on top of the blanket, I don't want to transfer dirt from my shoes to her girly bedspread. "Do you mind?" I say, lifting one foot.

Slightly, her back raises from the headboard. "I don't care, Luke," she mumbles, and I slide my arm across her shoulders, pulling her to me. Her head collapses burrowing into my chest, and the tears are flowing so profusely, they immediately soak into my shirt mimicking the stain on my jacket.

"Thanks," I say stroking her arm, and patting down her hair.

"It feels like I'm on a merry go around, but I'm not having any fun. I want to get off. We keep repeating ourselves, and this is how it always end- Me like this. Things are so confusing, I don't know where chasing the dream ends, and living it begins with us. Days like this, challenge my resolve." Her water-logged eyes peer up. "I'm sorry for rambling."

"You're doing fine," I say angling my head down, "that's why I'm here. Ramble on." The joke falls flat, Ana's oblivious, she's too busy blathering. Smiling, I just follow her lead. When she thrusts her pendant in front of me, all I can do is bobble my head.

"This puts it all into perspective. We happened, and we made a baby. I've been sitting here rubbing it like it's Aladdin's lamp waiting for it to grant me my 3 wishes..."

I squeeze her shoulder. "Go ahead," I urge.

"You were one." Her murmur is low, but her response doesn't escape my ear.

Tilting my head down, I implore her to look at me. "You do know, I'm here because I'm paid to be."

Bumping my hands, Ana jolts upright and angling her body towards me. "For clarity sake, rubbing my hair, kissing my forehead, and whispering comforting words in my ear are all things that fall within the scope of your job description?" she scoffs.

I drag my thumbs across her wet cheeks, it's hard to tell but I think these are fresh tears. They feel different. "No. They were free -I wanted to. Taking care of you comes naturally for me, but I'm not confused, and you shouldn't be either. You're vulnerable, angry at him, and I'm here. That's all."

"Either you're cynical, trying to hurt me or both. You know our bond is far greater than some passing fancy," she says. Her voice is small. Leaning forward, I hook my arm around her hauling her to me as I lounge back against the headboard. She snuggles up in the part of my arm where the elbow bends. There's familiarity, my walls start to crumble but just as quickly my guard goes back up, reestablishing the boundaries. "This used to be my favorite place. My safe place," she quivers.

My head droop. "It still can be." Pressing the back of my head into the wall, I contemplate. Then, I lob it forward. "Listen, I wasn't trying to be cynical, and I definitely wasn't trying to hurt you... " My fingers flutter grazing the skin just underneath the short sleeve of her t-shirt, as I carefully choose my words. "I'm not lying to myself. You wanted clarity, here's the reality of the situation. He's who you want, I'm the green grass on the other side of the fence...thing is you've trampled over-"

"Ouch," she shrieks, her whole body spasms, my arm has to constrict to hold her in place.

I whisper in her ear. "Settle down. You know what I meant."

Squirming she manages to get eye level with me. "You, settle down Trampled. Really, that's harsh."

An insatiable need to touch her, I move my hand to her hair, but she flinches. Dejected, I let it fall to my side. "I'm appealing because you're angry with him, you're romanticizing our relationship. If we were as good as you're trumpeting, I'd be the one sitting across from you at dinner listening to you about your day. I'd be the one going on long runs with you in the rain, and it would be my arms you fell asleep in at night and my dick waking you up in the morning. If we were so perfect, I'd be in his shoes and not pathetically trailing behind him in mine."

Her eyes droop, and then the water-logged blue orbs stare back up at me. "Be honest with me. Do, you see us working?"

"Honest."

She bites her bottom lip. "Honest."

"My honest opinion. You guys need to take a moment. Breathe. For god sake, it's been a week. It's like you're trying to fit every day you've been apart into seven days. Yes, we started out white hot, but we were operating under different parameters. We chunked it up to a college fling, but it clears you want this to go the distance. So, go all in, stop casting me as his understudy. Stop peeking in the wings, I'm not waiting there. The rules stand -I'm not second best. I'm not here as a spoiler, I know I'm the broken road-"

"Ugh," she gasps, and I loosen my grip, giving her freedom.

"Yeah." I toy with loose strands of her hair. "It took me a while, but I finally figured it out, and I'm not mad at you." She eyes me speculatively, and my hand falls caressing her jawline. "I stumbled on the song in my playlist, and uninterrupted I listened to it over and over. And then I understood why you guarded it so fiercely, while sharing your other favorites so freely with me."

She lays her hand on top of mine. "Luke."

"It's okay." Switching the positions of our hands, I slide my hand out from under hers laying it on top. "Have you played it for him?"

"No."

I open my arms wide, she crumples into them, and as they close around her, I give her a reassuring peck on the top of her head. "You gotta loosen up. It ain't that serious. I was the warm-up act, there are worse things in life than warming up with you."

She punches my chest. "Stop, I hate it when you put yourself down for me."

"I'm not. It's reality. I can handle reality, it's the blurred lines that quiet moments like these create, that are challenging. So, we need to get back to reality ..." Realization hits as soon as the words leave my mouth and I slap my palm to my forehead. "Doh."

Nothing triggers an impromptu rap sing along for Ana more than an Eminem reference and right on cue she spits out a rhyme from "8 Miles". Sadly, it's off key, and the words are all wrong. Far be it for Ana to let something as trivial as pitch, and correct lyrics get in her way of her favorite song. Guffawing, I beg her to stop and making my point I stick my fingers in my ears. But Ana doubles down, she stands upright on her knees and true to her rhythmic challenge self, her arms flails, and her hands jerk when she tries to replicate signature hip hop moves. Pulling my fingers out, I howl and nearly die when she attempts to inject swagger into her parody. The comedy doesn't come from the poor performance, it's the serious expression on her face. I know, she knows, I know it's all in jest, still it's hella funny. Our eyes meet, and life stands still. She's happy and prettier than ever; the blotchy skin, red-rimmed eyes, and frizzy ponytail are only adding to her allure. They hint at her carefree spirit. So seduced by the levity of the moment, it transports us back to who we truly are together- two people who enjoy each other's company.

She clutches her mid-section. "My stomach hurts," she chortles.

The phone buzzes to life. Instantaneously, the merriment stops. I stretch behind me, plucking it from the bedside table. "Here."

She pushes it away. "You've spoken to Mr. Taylor. He, knows I'm safe."

"He hasn't heard it from you. Your silence has gone on long enough. You've punished him. Talk to him."

She snatches the phone from my hand and leaning across me she sets the still ringing phone on the table. "Thank you. That felt good," she says ignoring everything I just said, throwing her arms around my neck. "I needed it."

I blow her hair from my nose. "You're welcome. You know it's my job to make you smile. "

She lays her head on my shoulder. "This isn't what I was expecting when I woke up this morning."

"What were you hoping for?"

"Not hoping more like wishful. Is normal too much to ask?"

I nudge her back. "We're talking Christian Grey."

Reluctantly, she smiles. "That's not a ringing endorsement for the fate of our relationship. I wanted a glimpse of how we functioned outside of the friendly confines of Escala. The whole week had been great, the weekend even better but Christian's real life is a fantasy world. It's been a struggle merging our two worlds, there's always the next thing lurking in the dark."

Reaching behind me, I unclasp her arms from my neck and holding them at my side I intertwine my fingers with hers. "It's not in the dark, the truth is in plain sight."

She unwinds her fingers from mine. "Really, you want to go there," she sneers.

I catch her arm before she crawls away. "That's your problem. You run, instead of talking."

Jerking her arm away, she shoves my shoulder. "That's the knock on you."

Rolling my arm, I test my rotator cuff. "That hurts you know."

She cocks her head to the side. "Good. Report me."

Playfully, I throw a punch at her lower chin. "You are Gansta."

A grin sneaks up on her, and reflexively she swats at my fist. "Stop. making me laugh."

I grab her head in my hands pulling it to me, planting a kiss on top of her head. "That's impossible. I enjoy it too much. When you laugh, your eyes crinkle." I say releasing her. "With that being said, it's time you reach out to him. You don't have to forgive him, hell you don't have to apologize just talk to the man."

"I don't have anything to apologize for." She's quick to say, and I quickly apologize for the oversight. "Who's side are you on anyway?"

"Don't pout. I'm on your side. Always. I wouldn't be here if I weren't. But it's just you and me so we can be real with each other." I flick her nose, and her demeanor softens. "Don't make the same mistake we did- rush things. Savor the moments. You have time. Your relationship is so new, it still has the new car smell. I'm not a fortunate teller, I can't predict the future but I am your friend, and I can give you a piece of advice for today. Show more maturity."

Mockingly, she salutes. "Aye, aye sir."

"I'm serious. Eventually, you'll have to talk to him. I know I joke, about his larger than life persona, but under all that bravado he's just an insecure man. We all are. And as such he's destined to do some unbelievably stupid things but that doesn't mean you have too."

"Grrr. I hate it when you go all Mr. Miyagi on me."

I chuckle. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Lowering her body, she curls into a ball next to me. "I'll take your words under advisement. I'll call but Later. I'm tired." Unable to suppress her yawn, she snuggles against my side.

I snort. "Somebody's sleepy."

"Uh, huh." She nods, and unfurling Ana flips to her side putting me at her back. Fidgeting, she gets comfortable essentially using my arm as her de facto pillow.

Spooning her, I throw my free arm across her. She wiggles her ass against my junk, conscious that the move was less about flirtation and more about comfort, I pull her to me. Besides, what can you do with clothes and a blanket separating you?

Stroking her arm and hair, I help her fall asleep. Angling my head down, I moderate her breathing, watching her chest rise and fall. Closing my eyes, I lay the side of my face on the side of her head. Reminiscing, I enjoy every second of being in her bed, with her in my arms, and I do what I admonished her for- I romanticize about us.

The door creaks, my eyes flash open, and my head zooms up. Kate's visible in the cranny. We make eye contact, and she eases from the door. My eyes stay on it until it closes completely. Then incrementally I withdraw my arm letting Ana's head slip onto her pillow. Slithering out of bed, I'm careful to not arouse her. Dragging the blanket up to her neck, I sneak to her feet carefully removing her socks, and tiptoeing to the head of the bed, I stuff them in her sneakers. Creeping out of the room, I glance over my shoulder making sure she's still asleep.

"How do you do it?" Kate says soon as the door closes. Making a beeline to the sofa, I utilize two of the mottos from the Three Monkeys. Pretend not to see, or hear her, but Kate isn't easily dismissed. She tracks me like she's hunting game. "How do you do it? Day in and day in watch her fall deeper and deeper in love with someone else."

Pulling my jacket up, I casually drape my necktie around my collar. "How long were you standing there?"

"Long enough to know she doesn't deserve you?"

I slide on my Ray Bans. "You're asking the wrong question. Ask me why?

Her reporter instinct kicking in, her face lights up, as if she's landed the scoop of the century. "Why?"

"If you have to ask, you wouldn't understand."

Coyly, she smiles. "Ana's my girl, and I get the innocent, bookwork thing, but what is it about her, that has two gorgeous Alpha men like you and Christian Grey fawning all over her?" I chuckle, and then I snort. And I continue to the door. "She's taking you for granted. You're a consolation prize," she yells.

Removing my hand from the doorknob, I backtrack. "With a friend like you Kate, who needs enemies. Now is a matter of determining if you are truly evil, and indeed is an enemy, or you're just a jealous bitch and is an innocent frenemy. Either way, I don't trust you, and you're the undeserving one."

* * *

**CPOV**

With an exaggerated flourish, Katherine waves me in. Mirroring Anastasia's mood, the day started out pleasant. Sunny. But as it has worn on the nagging chill has turned downright frigid. That being said, the cold in the late afternoon air is no match for the arctic blast that hits me as soon as I step foot inside the apartment. And it's has nothing to do with a number on a thermostat.

"What took you so long?"

"Kate, save the sarcasm. Where's Anastasia?"

The door closes with force. "In the kitchen," she says whizzing by me. "I'm pretty sure you know where it is."

The temptation was too great, she couldn't resist lobbing the barb, but I deny her satisfaction- I let it slide. Smirking inwardly, I mosey in the direction of the place I'd laid in wait for Anastasia. Then I reel around, I have an epiphany. "Kate. You're familiar with Anastasia's friend Lulu."

She eyes me warily. "Yesss..."

"Tell me about her."

"She's a bitch."

Wryly, I smile. "Something a bit more substantive."

"It doesn't get any more substantive than bitch," she responds, and my mouth snaps open, and closes and I leer at her. "Okay, Okay," she sighs. "Honestly. she's Ana's doppel-"

"Kate!" My whole body turns. She's pissed. I'm immobile. Despite the indignation emanating from her, she's steal's my breath away- she's beautiful. She's changed out of her plain white t-shirt into a feminine button down blue blouse, her naturally curly hair is sleek, and even with her blustering she appears relaxed. Frankly, the only noticeable sign of any despair is the slight puffiness of her eyes. A ping of jealousy surges through me, in my mind I'd greatly exaggerated her demise - her heart wasn't dissolving at the rate of mine. Envious that she was fine, my jealousy morphs into something irrational. Fixing on her fiery gaze, I forget my misplaced anger, and get an inclination to pluck her from the doorway, where her hands are molded to her hip bone and show her my side of the story. Not tell. Show. Cop to my one weakness, that when it comes to her, the implacable control I'd dutifully honed under years of Elena's sadist tutelage has become a dirty word, no longer a feather in my cap. Reyna was wrong, Elena is wrong- I maybe the master in the boardroom, my playroom, and even the bedroom, but Anastasia is the master of my universe. "DON'T. DARE. Say another word. If Christian has questions about Lulu, he can ask me," she barks, and bare feet she tromps across the threshold.

She nears me, and I grab her forearm. "You're not getting away from me this time," I growl in her ear.

"That's my cue," Kate says, "I'm out of here."

"No," she cries out. Anastasia's venomous tone is more for me than Kate. "This is your home. If anyone should leave, it's Christian." I increase the pressure on her arm, and through the fabric of her shirt, my fingers sink into her skin. Stubbornness abounds, she bites back any discomfort funneling it into the menacing glare she's wearing.

Katherine isn't in my line of sight, but I can almost picture her indecision. "Kate. Leave," I say sternly aiding her in her decision making. Anastasia's eyes go wide, her nostrils flare so to increase her frustration I intentionally antagonize her throwing in a taunting, please. I'm well aware that her expanding scowl isn't a critique on my manners, she's admonishing my audacity.

"Ana, I'll talk to you later," Kate says, and a few seconds later the door opens and closes.

Anastasia snatches her forearm away from me. "If you're here to make amends, you've botched it," she snaps, as she frenetically rubs the arm I was holding.

Grabbing her shoulders, I spin her and to her consternation I seize her face in my hands, my mouth crushes hers pinning her to the floor. She moans her pleasure, despite the tension my lips feel from her lips. Lessening the pressure, I extract my tongue. "I'm right here baby. I'm all yours," I murmur against her lips, and instinctively they part just as her arms fly up knocking my hands out of the way. Eager, I penetrate her mouth with a voracity that steals her breath. My tongue plunders her mouth deepening the kiss, then breaking our connection, I swoop down, snaking an arm behind her knees scooping her up.

Squealing, Anastasia's grip on my neck tightens. "What are you doing?"

Hoisting her higher, I angle my head capturing her mouth, and she clings to me as my tongue caresses hers. Skirting furniture, I transverse the room.

Step one of my plan in full swing, I take my foot, and in one sharp thrust I kick in the door, and retracting my tongue from her throat, I pose in the doorway scanning the room. The scent of her perfume lingers in the air particles, permeating my nostrils. Her bedroom is far more hospitable than the rest of the apartment, and before entering, I inhale getting a long whiff of pear and fig. Then it dawns on me, countless hours alone in her apartment, and I never ventured into the bedroom. Mentally, I kick myself for the missed opportunity. She wiggles, unknowingly diffusing the conspiracy theory threatening to hijack our evening, and I glance down. Her eyes are flickering with lust, but they're also guarded reminding me of the task at hand.

Lifting my head, my eyes land on the surprisingly small bed across the room, and eschewing artificial light for the natural ambiance in the space, I ditch the light switch at the door. Treating her like precious cargo, I tread cautiously. My vigilance is rewarded, I spot the outline of Anastasia's sneakers in time to sidestep the tripping hazard; however, my steps falter a tad and her body tenses. Securing her to me, I travel with more urgency and in a couple long strides, my knees make contact with the edge of the bed. Before setting her down, I inspect the pale blue and cotton-candy pink duvet. It's slightly rumpled. I imagine her wallowing around on it in misery, the self-serving imagery is for no other reason than to validate my crippling anguish.

Listing, I hold her tightly, pushing the afghan out of the way, and pulling the duvet down. Then deliberately I lower her body, and when her arms slide from my neck, I let her fall the short distance to the mattress. Yelping she fights to still herself, and I stand to my full height watching her dancing eyes skim my face as she bounces. "Don't. You. Ever. Run away from me again..." I enunciate each word, but my confidence is shaky, and my voice trails. Then the bouncing ceases, and her eyes settle on me. "When you leave, I think you're never coming back," I whisper.

"Christian," she mutters.

Locked in on her impassioned eyes, I remove my leather jacket, and it dangles from my fingers. "Shh," I say, letting it drop. Staying focused on her eyes, I tug on the hem of my t-shirt and pitching forward I haul it over my head and extended arms. When my view is no longer hampered by the fabric, I find Anastasia up from her back, on her knees- there's a purposefulness to her stance.

"I want to say something." Scrunching the shirt into a ball, I throw it, and it sails over her head. Stepping to her, I bend my head down slamming my mouth to hers kissing her hard, swallowing her words. She wobbles and has to balance herself by palming my chest.

Extracting my tongue, my eyes roam her body craving the skin at the hollow of her neck, left exposed by her parted collar. My heated gaze beckons her to stay silent, and starting at the base of her throat I trace a line down the opening of her shirt, a soft whimper escapes her. And smirking I revel in the silkiness of her delicate skin. Impeded by the button at her cleavage, I press my finger into her chest and stare into her wanton eyes. "Are you my baby?"

Her head bobs. "Uh, huh," she moans.

Hooking the finger in the V, I yank on the blue shirt that even in the dimly lit room is accentuating the blue in her eyes, and I choose this moment to assert some dominance. "Why didn't you return any of my calls."

"Huh."

"Answer me, Anastasia." Bemused eyes slide closed, shutting me out. "No baby, open your eyes, I want to see you." They flash open, the blue in them is clearer than the Mediterranean allowing me access to her most intimate, and desperate desires. "They're so expressive they, tell me what you won't."

"What do you see?"

Resisting the primal urge to rip the shirt off of her, I retract my finger and slide the button through the slit. I move to the next, and her head lolls back revealing more of her skin to me, and I pause to savor the exquisite, creamy flesh. Toeing off my shoes, I undo the last visible button, yanking the hem from her jeans. Her head juts forward, and I lean in touching my lips to the shell of her ears. "You are mine. Luke is your bodyguard, so when I call you, I want to hear from you, not his report on you." I say huskily, the tip of my tongue dipping inside, as my palms smooth over her flushed skin nudging the blouse off her shoulders. The silky cotton fabric skates over her shoulder blades, down her arms, pooling at her wrists and inclining back I tug the ends of the sleeves dragging the shirt the rest of the way off. It slips from my hands, as I admire the fullness of her breast, served me up high on her chest by the tiny demi cups of her bra.

Taking my index finger, I rim the ridge of the left cup. She moans, and switching, I run the same finger along the top edge of the right cup. "Christian." she sings my name and tapping the tip of my finger to my tongue I moisten the pad and paint her pouty puckers. Aroused by it, Anastasia moves her hands to the button on her jeans.

Knocking them away, I scold her, and then I reach behind her, unsnapping the fasteners on her bra. Crooking my fingers, I slide them underneath the straps, and as I tilt back, I drag them with me along her shoulders, down her arms to the floor. Bending down I engulf her mouth sucking on her plump bottom lip, and I let go, basking in the glow of her red hot heat. Gray eyes to blue, I profess how I much I love her, and I cup the breasts that have tormented me all this time. Heaving them in my hands I weigh their heaviness, and then I crouch plopping one breast in my mouth. Anastasia weaves her hands into my hair raking her nails along my scalp, as hungrily I suck. Scraping my teeth, against the erect pink nipple, I shift to the other breast. I suck, squeeze, and stroke with my tongue the engorged mound as she tugs hard on my hair. The pain heightens my need for her. Abandoning the pert nipple, I rest my hand flat on her chest. Pressing, I push her down. When her back is flushed with the bed, I move to her jeans making quick work of them and her panties. Adding them to the pile, I stand upright ogling Anastasia as she hustles to switch position on the bed. Holding her gaze, I quickly undo the button and zipper on my trousers, slowly letting them fall to the floor unleashing my throbbing erection.

Gaping, she gasps. "No underwear."

A wry smile sweeping across my lips, I sidle to the head of the bed. One shoulder hunches, as a corner of my mouth twitches. "Why bother, I say sliding my fist up, and down my shaft, "the only reason I wore pants- I had to." The words are on my tongue, but the command isn't necessary, Anastasia automatically opens her mouth, in response to my action, and putting my hand on the back of her head, I slide my dick inside. Her lips curling around it is my undoing. "Damn." Throwing my head back, I delight in the pleasure of her mouth on me and pushing down on the nape of her neck I control the tempo and how much of me she takes at the back of her throat. The feeling is sublime, adding another layer to the ecstasy I lob my head forward and watch my dick disappears, and reappears in her mouth. Grabbing a fist full of hair, I jerk her head back. "Stop." Licking her lips, sheepishly she peers up at me. "I don't want to come in your mouth." A coquettish grin caresses her lips and falling to her back Anastasia spreads her legs opening herself to me.

Crawling up stealthily, I limit the movement of the mattress, and standing on my knees I walk between her soft, beautiful thighs. Digging my fingers into the inner flesh, I spread them wider giving me a clearer view of her core wet with her juices. Arching my back, I bury my nose in the apex of her thighs, getting a whiff of her scent. It is more aromatic that the most fragrant flower. My heart drumming in my chest, I brace myself on her thighs getting prostrate on the bed, and I delve into her wetness lapping my tongue from one end of her fold to the next. Anastasia bucks, her ass lifts from the bed. "Yesss," she sputters, making hissing noises as she fucks my face.

Splaying, my palm on her taut stomach I press down, sending her back flat with the bed and I start kissing my way up her soft, moist skin, licking the beads of perspiration as I go. Landing on my target, I touch my lips to hers, giving her a sampling of the saltiness from her skin mixed in with the juices from her core. And then cradling her head in the crook of my arm, I envelop her mouth drawing her tongue inside mine. Moaning into my mouth, she grips my forearm with one hand, searching out my hair with the other. Bearing down on her I increase the pressure on her lips intensifying the kiss. Withdrawing my tongue, I free her from my imprisonment and assume the push-up pose. Staring into her soulful eyes, I reach back for my throbbing cock aching to be in her. I probe her entrance too spellbound to push into her further. My pre-cum coats her nether lips, as I get lost in her eyes. She's everything I never knew I wanted. "Don't run away from me Anastasia. Not even for one second." To my own ears, my words are desperate, I can only imagine what I must sound like to her. Fuck manning up, I'm too far gone, she's got be whipped, reduced to a sniffling wimp. Alas, I'll get my dominant card back, now is all about her- about us.

Her eyes study mine. "Christian couples fight. And sometimes they need space. This wasn't our first, and I promise it won't be our last. The next time, it may be you needing space from me," she murmurs. Anxious to quell such nonsense, inch by inch I slide my dick into her until I'm balls deep. She moans, she screams, teetering on the line of that beautiful pain that ignites unimaginable fires, and the ugly desires that make you want more of it.

I still to let her mind acclimate. This is about fucking her mind, as much as it is about making love to her. She has to understand how much she means to me. At home in her, some of the insecurities peel away, but unsatisfactory to me too many remain. Pressing down on my arms, I lower my body begging her to look at me. "Never. I'm to love in with you," I whisper

I rise up on my arms and slowly sinking back down, I go deeper, and deeper until the demarcation between our bodies, is non-existent. My heart filling up, my lips brush the shell of her ear, as her walls tighten around my dick, and whispering I flex my hips grinding down on her. In her ear, I recount my desire to keep her safe, and my justifications for ensuring no harm comes her way. "You're my heart. The breath I take into my lungs. The reason I get up in the morning," I say on each down stroke. Bracing on my arms, I hover over her. Sweat drips from my face co-mingling with the tears glistening on her cheeks. "You're at the top my list. Everything else and everyone else including my family is such a distant second they hardly rate. She snakes her arms around, squeezing my ass pressing me back down into her. Buoyed by her enthusiasm, and emotional outburst, I'm brought to the brink. My climax erupts, and as my cum spews into her, I growl, "I love you." Anastasia's mouth opens wide, her body convulses, and her head bobbles erratically- she's coming, and following my constant insistence she keeps her eyes open, but I can't keep mine. So, grateful that I get to come in her again, I don't have the strength to watch, or the wherewithal to make out any sound.

* * *

**Ana POV**

Tugging the sheet tighter around my chest, I glare at him. "You should've told me," I pause. "You can't circumvent me from life. Particularly when it's my life. Life happens have you ever heard of that?"

"Sorry." He strokes my face. "When someone is out to hurt you, I'm a bull in a china shop, my natural instinct is to destroy the whole joint."

"Here's the thing Christian I'm not made of China, I'm not that fragile. I'm pretty tough. In case you didn't know, my life hasn't always been this charmed. I've been in dicier situations than with a Dominatrix turned shrink."

"At least you can joke about, that's a good sign," he says, throwing his arms behind his head.

I smile. "I got some advice today, and I'm trying to heed it. But not so fast. It doesn't excuse you, and nor let you off the hook. Before you, I had to wage these my battles myself, and the adversaries were more demonic than Dr. Ryan or whatever her name is. I won't deny, it's nice having you in my corner, but that's no justification your lack of respect.

His arms come down, and inclining forward he drapes them over my shoulders hauling me to him. "Baby, I respect you," he says pulling the sheet up to my neck.

"How can you say that Christian, when right after our discussion about your tirade with Nick, you confronted Dr. Ryan."

"It just happened to work out that way, it had nothing to do with disrespecting you."

Gripping the fingers hanging in front of my chest, I peek up at him. "Granted respect may not be the right words, but you didn't take my feelings into consideration. You see the big picture, but you miss me in it. I'll let the Nick thing slide. But you missed a golden opportunity, to prove to me my feelings matter to you. You not only squandered it, you exacerbated it by not giving me the courteous to confront the woman. I'm the one that she used, I should've been the one to tell her to go to hell. Instead, you gave the power to her."

Audibly, he sighs. "I'm sorry baby, I didn't see it from your point of view." He rests his chin on the top of my head. "She didn't say those words. Right."

"Calm down tiger. No, she didn't. She was straight forward and very professional."

"She should've shown that professionalism when she first learned about your connection to me and recuse herself." He angles his head down. "Question. Did Copper attend sessions with you?"

I recoil, but to avoid looking into his eyes, I stay still. "Where's that coming from."

"Calm, down Tiger," he says and I have to stifle a laugh-he's too proud of himself. "What integrity she had remained intact, Reyna didn't divulge any of your personal information. It was an inference."

His clarification helps me relax some, but guilt and shame consume me, it's the price of the lie. "No part of my life was off limit, but no he never visited."

His embrace tightens. "I'm okay, you can say his name. I've developed a healthy respect for him. I still want to kill him every time I think about you with him, but I can concede as your boyfriend the redheaded bastard had a job. He looked after you when I couldn't."

I click my tongue. "Mighty big of you."

He snorts. "I hear the sarcasm, but that was a big admission for me. I also hear the strain in your voice. Why so pensive? There's more going on in that pretty little head than you're letting on." He kisses the top of my head. "I wish knew what," he murmurs against my hair.

"There's nothing to know, you know everything. You understand me better than anyone." Zoning in on the motif on the curtain, I try to reassure him with the empty words.

"Anastasia Steele if only that were true. I get you, but I don't understand you. You're a complex creature, filled with opposites. You're a self-proclaimed introvert, yet you have a lot of extrovert tendencies. You're innocent, yet your begging for me to take you into my playroom. Your eyes are so expressive, yet they keep your most ardent secrets. When the media finds out about us, they will automatically jump to the conclusion that you were an easy get, unaware of the challenge you presented. So, no I don't understand you, you're ying yang, but damn I'm lucky to have the privilege to get to know you."

I sniffle. "You're good Mr. Grey."

"So, I'm forgiven?"

Rising up, I break his embrace. "Not that good." He rubs the tears from my face. "But how about this, we come to an understanding. Talk to me, before you jump in headfirst."

Slouching back against the headboard, he runs his hand through his hair. "Baby, I'm not used to collaborating on everything I do. Especially in my personal life."

"I'm not talking about on everything, simply on what pertains to me. Life has been unkind to both of us, and we're both left with scars. The ones seen, and unseen. You won't let me fix you, so, stop trying to fix me-"

Grabbing my face, he gives me a ragged kiss. "You're wrong you've fixed me. You're mine," he says, resting his forehead on my forehead.

"You don't make it easy for a girl, how can I stay mad at you." He hunches his shoulders. "As much as, I'd like, I won't deny you your need to be my White Knight, simply talk to me. You can't fix all my problems, or settle old scores, but we can talk through them. Deal."

"Deal," he says, and he pulls his forehead away.

"If we're done talking about the lying charlatan, I should get up," I say crawling from under the sheets.

He touches my arm. "Where are you going?"

"To shower. I start work soon."

"Work-"

I interrupt him. "Yes. Work." Smirking, I peek back at him, and his chiseled physique still glistening with sweat, clouds my mind. The mental picture of all the things, he'd done to me, the way he'd made love to me flickers to life. " if I'd don't get up now, I newer will. Besides you can't take care of me, lounging in bed." I slap his chest.

Lowering the sheet, he unveils his semi-hard cock. "I can more than take care of you, the bed is where I do some of my finest work. I'll go so deep in you, it reaches your prayers."

Biting my bottom lip, I reach out and trace a circle around one of the tiny dots marring his chest. And to my amusement he lets me. "It's probably another one of your lines, but Mr. Grey you are the answer to my prayers."

Clutching my wrist, he yanks me to him, and his tongue darts into my mouth, and he quickly pulls it back. "I love you. I'm well aware it's not manifesting itself in the ways you approve, but don't doubt that I love you."

"I know you do." I murmur.

Unfurling his hand, he reaches between us flipping my locket open. I glance down, and adoringly, Christian is perusing the inside. "He really was a blip." In silence, he inspects the picture. "Barely visible, and made such an impact." The lines on his face are soft, there's a calmness about him I've never witnessed.

"Maybe we should get you one. A watch, or a bracelet..."

Snapping it closed, he gently replaces it against my chest. "No, I'm good. Peeking at yours from time to is enough for me." He fidgets with the chain. "It grazed my skin when you in leaned into me."

"You don't owe me an explanation to be in awe by your child. It was just a suggestion." I run my hand, through his mussed up hair. It's normal state of being. "Did I make you uncomfortable?"

"No, baby," he says, trying to get me back between the sheets with him.

Giggling, I fight him off. "No. Don't get started with your sexpertise I'm getting out of bed," I say jerking my hand away.

"Stay. " He pouts. "You can afford to choose sex over work. What's the benefit of having an exceedingly rich boyfriend if you won't take advantage of his money? Spending it or letting him spend it on you?"

Crawling across him, I slide to the floor. "Keeping my job allows me to have some autonomy from you."

"You take money from Lulu, what's the difference."

Bending down, I take his face in my hands. "Really," I say, lovingly tossing it back. "I don't sleep with Lulu."

He wiggles his brows. "Now, there's something, I'd pay to watch."

I swat him on his shoulder. "You're encourageable," I say, and I saunter to the dresser. Collecting my underwear, and clothes, I race to the bathroom. When I reenter the bedroom, I'm already dressed.

His eyes follow me, as I tiptoe across the floor. "Where's the towel. I was looking forward to seeing you in it."

"There's your answer. A towel would only have been an invitation to round 2."

Chuckling, he picks up his ringing phone. "Hi Mother," he says.

"Hi dear, what's so funny." I hear her through the phone, and then walking to my closet, I step out of earshot.

"My, mother wanted you to come for dinner this weekend," he says, when I emerge where he can see me.

"What did you say."

Throwing the sheet back, he surges out of his bed. "The truth. You're staying here for the weekend. Needless to say, she was disappointed. It didn't help that I also turned her down for dinner tomorrow."

"I'm sure she's not happy with me," I say raking the comb through the tangles in my hair.

"She's thrilled with you, a little perturbed with me, but I'll make it up to her. My schedule is crazy busy, but I'll try to fit dinner in with the family this weekend," he says scouting the room for his shirt.

"On the other side," I say.

"Thanks."

Setting the comb on top of the dresser, I give the reflection in the mirror a once over. "Christian, I know you have an empire to helm, so you don't have to spend your time here with me. "

Buttoning his slacks, he slips the t-shirt over his head and walks up behind me. "You don't get it, I don't work without you."

Rotating, I rest my back against the dresser. "I don't work without you either."

"That's good to hear. Want to walk through what you're going to tell your father so we can keep the peace. I'm sure he won't be pleased with me."

I pluck his t-shirt. "Don't worry I'm going to paint you in the best light."

"So, you're going to lie."

"Pretty much," I say, and I roar with laughter. Cracking a smile, he stares at me. "Sorry, I crack myself up," I giggle.

We finish getting dressed, then entwining our fingers together we exit the bedroom. Kate is sitting on the sofa, pretending to be engrossed in a book. Acknowledging her, Christian and I continue to the front door.

"Don't leave without Luke, he should be here shortly."

"I won't, but I want to make sure we're on the same page. He's following me in my car right?"

"To my horror, yes. But in the vein of transparency, Luke, and Taylor have scoped out the store determining that this is a safe course of action. So, Luke will wait in his car in the parking lot for you. Does that meet your satisfaction?"

I bounce on my tiptoes, giving him a smooch on the lips. "Yes, it does."

Sneaking his hand to the spine of my back, he presses me to him prolonging the kiss. "Then that's all that matters," he whispers against my lips, and I lower my feet putting an end to his shrewd seduction techniques. "I forgot to mention, I will have Flynn send over a list of therapists for you," he says matter a factly.

" Um, don't worry about it. I'm taking a break, I need time to get over this shamockery."

"Sure? You don't sound sure."

"I am."

He takes my chin between his thumb and index finger. "Think about it, and let me know if you change your mind," he says his thumb flitting across my bottom lip.

"Christian?"

Smirking, he removes his fingers. "I'm leaving."

He exits, and locking the door I listlessly walk to the sofa and flop down next to Kate. Slouching back, I slam a throw pillow to my front. "Long day?" she says.

I cut my eyes at her. "You have to ask." Straightening my posture, I stare at her. "What are you doing here? I didn't expect you back so soon."

She closes the book that I'm certain is a decoy, setting it down on the table. "I drove around a bit, then I thought about what you said. This is my place, I shouldn't have let him bully me so, I came back. Unfortunately, our walls are thin." She lowers her eyes.

"Kate, don't get started."

"For someone who just had her brains fucked out, you look stressed. Is it Luke?"

"Nooo. Why?"

"Don't sound so affronted, it's usually one or the other."

"Luke isn't a problem. Yes, Christian and I are working through some things, but it's all good."

"That settled. What's with the questions about Lulu. And more importantly, why were you so opposed to him asking them?"

"Mmm," I grunt. "It's a long story." Punching my knuckles into the cushion, I get up from the sofa. "And, I don't have time."

"Well I do," she says.

"Kate, I need to get ready for work. Luke will be here soon," I say walking to my room.

"Alrighty, then answer this, is Christian here all week," she says.

"Why?"

"No reason just checking."

"He's not. He's going home Thursday, and coming back Monday or Tuesday. But he wants me to stay in his suite at the Heathman," I shout, as I walk into my room.

"And," she shouts back.

"I said no-" I jump when in the mirror I spot at the door. "How did you get there so quickly."

"Never mind. Why not? I can come up with far worse things than living at the Heathman in a suite. The room service alone is enticement enough for me."

"I want to maintain my independence, and enjoy the last vestige of my college life."

"You can get that in Boston."

"It won't be the same, Kate. Give it up, I'm not staying at the Heathman. Or should I say we're not staying at the Heathman?

* * *

**Taylor's POV**

"Luke." He startles me, I didn't expect him to find him in the suite, I thought like me he'd have his hands full.

"What the hell Taylor?"

I set the findings from my pants pockets down on the table at the end of the sofa. "Who stole your lunch." Calmly, I say sliding my jacket off laying it across the arm of the sofa.

"Don't play. What happened to our agreement, keep each other posted so we're not broadsided. Guess what I was broadside. Worse so was Ana. Why didn't you tell me what Grey was up to."

"I'm going to have a nice cold draft. You want one," I say loosening my tie, and unbuttoning my shirt.

"No. Taylor, I don't want a beer."

I open the mini bar. "Suit yourself. It's not even noon and the day has been hellish. You're lucking I'm not having something stiffer." I say closing the door and popping the top on the can. I take a long gulp. The beer is cold, refreshing, perfection going down my throat, shame I can't enjoy it like I'd planned. When I pull the can down, Luke is leering at me. "It was on an as need to know basis."

"Well, on the basis of Ana, I needed to know."

Sipping the beer, I eye him suspiciously. "I take my direction from Christian Grey. And by Ana, I think you meant Miss Steele." I pause for effect. "Capiche."

He grits his teeth. "Miss Steele."

I set the beer can on the counter. "I'm going to give you a piece of advice, and I hope you take it. Watch yourself. Miss Steele is a looker. She's charming. And she's smart's. AND she's the Boss's girl."

"Do you hear yourself JT, you sound like a line from a mob movie, and you make him out to be some Neanderthal caught in a time warp, where women are still considered property. Everything you said define her, but one thing she isn't is a prize possession for him to keep on display under a glass cube, or to dress up."

"When did you join the moral majority? You've never taken umbrage at the Boss's lifestyle before. Hell, you were more of a hound dog than him, you had your share of women too. But the one thing that separated him from you, aside from the whole BDSM shit- at least he was monogamous. You had your bevy of women at the same time. And I'm damn sure you weren't a boy scout during your trek around the word. Your passport is probably stamped with pussy. So you can stop with your judgmental tone." Seething, I get in his face. "Don't write a check your ass can't cash."

"I'm going to my suite. Before I go let me give you my verbal report on my client. Miss Steele was escorted safely to her apartment, after learning some explosive information. Once she was inside, she proceeded to her bedroom where she cried uncontrollably before falling asleep. Since we spoke by phone a few times, you're aware of the details."

Drifting to the desk, I pick up the folder, and throw it at him. His catlike reflexes on display, he catches it. "What's this?"

"Open it. A folder on Reyna Bouchard. I didn't tell you beforehand because the boss didn't want you to know. He wanted to keep Miss Steele out of the fray. When you read her background report, you'll understand."

He scans the inside, and just as quickly closes it. "This is old An- I mean Miss Steele filled me in."

I nod my head. "Not so fast, there's some stuff in there she doesn't know."

He tucks the folder under his arm. "I'll read it later."

"Wait, I have more to say. You don't have a monopoly on caring about Ana. Gail already views her as her daughter, and I wouldn't stand idly by and let Grey or anyone intentionally hurt her." I hang my head for a moment, then resume our eye contact "While I don't agree with the kinky shit he does, and his dealing with the women in his past, I have to give him his props. He didn't lie to Ana. I don't know what deal she had to make with the devil to accept it, but she did. She's not some innocent young woman he's corrupting, she's an innocent young woman who's saving him. He's learning about love and the pitfalls that come with it. Sure I may die in the process," I snort, "but he'll be a better man for it. Now, I shrugged it off when I observe you standing dangerously close to her. Convinced myself, it was accidental when your fingers brushed against hers. And questioned my vision, when I caught you staring longingly at her when you thought no one was looking."

"I'm her bodyguard, that's my job."

"Don't be coy Luke, and don't write a check your ass can't check. You were right she's his prized possession. Not because he's misogynistic...she means everything to him. He's madly in with her. The man is out of his mind because she won't talk to him. I had to talk him down a few time. I say that to say this, you're still breathing because Grey has been oblivious to it all, and up until now, I haven't seen a need to bring it to his attention." I stare at him. "Am I right, there's nothing to tell, my eyes were playing tricks on me." There's a pregnant pause. "You can answer. Yes, it's rhetorical but this time, I want to hear from you."

Suddenly, he's smug. "Whatever you say JT."

The light just doesn't go off, it explodes. "FUCK. Me."


	46. Chapter 46 : Secret

46: Secret

Disclaimer- FSOG belongs to EL James

A/N: Thank you for reading, reviewing, and following- I hope you enjoy

_Taking this one to the grave_

_If I show you, then I know you_

_Won't tell you what I said_

_'Cause two can keep a secret_

_If one of them is dead?_

_"Secret" by The Pierces_

**A/N **If you're still following me thank you. I'm behind with my update because I've been on a world wind of traveling with birthdays parties, and family vacations- I'm actually still on vacations, and I hope to get back on more regular schedule when I first started- Thank you for reading, reviewing, and following - Enjoy

(I'm going to do longer chapter to catch up to where I'd wanted to be at this point in the story and to make up for my lack of updates)

* * *

Fuck that he's a millennial, a well-honed muscular specimen with a slight height difference over me. Fueled by disappointment, and disbelief, I jack Luke up by his lapels hauling him across the floor. I ignore the jouncing of the furniture. The lamp crashing to the floor. The blood swooshing in my ears, and I slam his back against the wall. The impact forces the air to gush out of his mouth hitting me in the face. Gasping, his arm's fly up to the side of his head. My lightning-quick reaction nullified his perceived advantages, not to mention, it didn't afford him the opportunity to mount much of a defense.

Heaving, Luke tries to suck air into his lungs. "T..." The lone alphabet is all he's able to formulate before succumbing to the exaggerated hacking.

I'm not moved. Exhibiting no mercy, I increase the pressure on this throat, tightening my grip on his lapels. Seemingly, his feet levitate from the floor. "Don't fucking T me asshole." I grind his back into the wall. Thankfully, the boss' suite adjoins mine from the other wall. Who am I kidding, in his catatonic state, the poor sap wouldn't notice if the ceiling caved in on him? So, I don't have to restrain myself. "Have you lost your fucking mind?" I bark. Laboring to breathe, Luke coughs violently. "Cat got your fucking tongue? Maybe I should yank it out. Trust me. It'll be far less painful than anything Christian Grey will do to you." Eye-balling him, I dare him to challenge me or dispute my claim. "I promise." I volunteer the menacing warning for general principle.

"Slow down JT, let me explain -"He strings together a few more words before I choke him out. Color drains from his face. Spit gurgles in his throat. And suddenly I let go. Sagging against the wall, Luke coughs arduously and in dramatic fashion his body folds over, and he cups his thighs right above the knees.

"What the hell could you possibly say that will stop me from pulverizing your ass, better yet informing Grey so he can have the satisfaction if kicking it himself."

Panting hard, purposefully Luke rotates his neck. "Tell what ... what are you going to tell him JT... " Struggling, to complete a sentence he lets his head dribble downward.

Retreating to the mini-bar, I pluck a water from the shelf. Leaving the door to close on its own volition, I stomp back over to Luke thrusting the bottle under his pathetic nose. "Here."

He angles his head up and stares dubiously at the glass bottle before lifting a hand accepting the questionable gesture. "Thank you." Slowly, he straightens his spine bracing his torso on the wall, and raising the water to his mouth he takes a few swigs.

"Don't mistake the gesture for altruism, it was self-serving," I croak, " I didn't want you to choke to death, before hearing what you have to say."

Hoisting the back of one foot against the wall, Luke drops the hand holding the bottle of water to his side, and rubbing a thumb along his chin he stares directly at me. "You got nothing JT. Know how I know," he gloats. Apparently, he's confused the H20 with something stronger, because I'd be damn if he isn't exhibiting a classic case of liquid courage.

"Watcha yourself..."

"If you had an iota of suspicions you would've confronted me sooner."

"Fuck me, for giving you the benefit of having a brain. But I'll concede, we wouldn't be here if it weren't for your wistful timbre at the end-"

A derisive snort escapes him. Bolstered by the wall, Luke closes his eyes rolling the chilled bottle along his forehead, and then his eyes pop open. "That's all you got. That's the incriminating evidence." He slides the bottle down his face back to his side. "You damn near strangled me, broke my back over that weak shit. When did you become some sentimental Biotch?" With the foot popped up on it, he pushes off the wall. "C'mon JT you're better than that. You're going to allow something that trivial trigger a cataclysmic event. Because you know telling Grey would be tantamount to yelling fire in a crowded theatre after you lit the match, and barred the only exit. The fallout from this would be that massive." Steadying himself, Luke adjusts his jacket. "Not for me or you...but Grey and Ana." I don't admonish him for using Miss Steele's first name, I blame her for the slip-up. Instead, I make a mental not to address it with him later.

"Don't try to saddle me with the guilt. The shit would be on you." I point a finger in his face. "You may want to ridicule me but this isn't trivial, and it isn't innocent."

He cackles. "I don't recall saying anything about a crush, but what the hell if I did. When did a crush become a punishable offense-"

"When the woman is your boss' girlfriend, and your boss is Christian Grey," I bellow. "A crush is your word, not mine. I know better, your reputation precedes you. You don't crush on women- women crush on you. You're like Grey in that way."

Leering at me, Luke unfurls his hand letting the half-full bottle of water slide out into the waste basket that happens to be right next to him, and he throws his hands up in mock surrender. "You got me." Smirking, he lets his hands fall down. "Since I'm the rake, you think I am let's call it like it is. She's a brick house, and I was checking her ass out. Happy. Shoot me" I'd like to do just that for the cavalier statement alone. Instead, I inflict my frustration on the cap of the whisky bottle, as I eye Luke sidestepping the lamp, and plopping down on the sofa.

Setting the freshly opened liquor bottle down on the bar, I pick up my drink, and peer through the amber liquid. I contemplate drowning the hell Luke has unearthed at the bottom of the thick tumbler. Alas, my commitment to duty prevails. Banging the glass down on the wooden surface, I pledge to bring some order to the muddled mess. The liquid gold sloshes against the sides of the glass, some of it spilling over the rim. I'm tempted to drag my fingers through it, touching it to my tongue in hopes the taste would please the warring thunderbolts cracking around us.

"Be careful, what you wish."

"A little early isn't it?" Luke quips.

I examine his face, searching for the truth behind his eyes. But early on Luke proved himself to be a disciple of Grey's. He mastered his impassive stare. The bastard isn't giving anything away, and I swear if I didn't know better, I'd think he and Grey were separated at birth.

However, the conspiracy theory is easily debunked. The men's road to manhood couldn't be more different. Luke grew up in a loving affluent home with a mother and father, siblings, money, and access to anything he wanted while the bosses path was far less idyllic. It was shrouded in darkness, littered with deplorable behavior, a wasteland of nothingness. Still, the similarities in their personality traits are striking. Both are competitive, cocky, and controlling, and Luke with his laid back surfer dude demeanor could easily slide into Grey's shoes as a Dominant in the fucked up BDSM world he dwells in.

So, it baffles me that they've co-existed so well in their roles. No clashes of significance to mention, even the negations over Luke's return with it's on and off again histrionics came to an inti-climatic conclusion. Unbeknownst to both, I didn't join them in celebrating the triumphant outcome. I'd hoped Luke would never return. Good as he was on the job, he was ill-suited for the position - too big for it. Luke Sawyer like Christian Grey wasn't a follower he was a leader. It is why I praised his departure and viewed starting his own private security firm his rightful ascension into the stratosphere Grey occupies.

"I don't get it, Luke. You're all kinds of smart- streets, books," I shrug.

"There's nothing to get. I find her intriguing. Okay," he sighs. "She wrangled Grey when his sex slaves couldn't. Come on JT, you have to admit, you didn't see her coming. She doesn't fit the bill of a paramour of Grey's; she's young, naïve, and unsophisticated. Sure, as college co-ed goes, she's all that, but Christian Grey's gal pal. Please."

I flop down in the armchair adjacent to the sofa and stare at him. "You're the one who doesn't get it. The man's in love. Because of your whorish ways, you're incapable of understanding the concept ..." The thunderclaps cease. My insensitivity overshadows everything. I'd forgotten about Alison. He rarely talked about her. I only learned of her existence during one of his drunken stupors. And in my rush to punish him, absentmindedly I'd accidentally turned this secret hurt into a weapon against him. We make eye contact; this time, his reaction is swift. The wound is opened. Exposed. And it's raw.

His arm slides from the sofa, and he sits forward. "I'll tell you what I know about love. It's a lie. It's a fallacy. It's the white unicorn. The green leprechaun. The pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. It doesn't exist. And you know what sucks about that? Your heart has to fucking splinter into tiny fragments to find out the truth." I lounge back in the chair, determined to wretched down the rhetoric. "Tired old man," he chortles.

I snigger. Normally, the playful jab would spawn a lively verbal sparring match between us, but our jawing has been compromised. I lack a humorous comeback, I simply let his words hang out there. "Um," I grunt.

"Too soon."

I glower at him. "Drop the witty remarks, there's nothing funny about this situation-"

"You keep saying situation, there is no situation, except the one you're creating. I do get it Taylor; you want to protect your boy."

Sitting forward, I rest my elbows on my thighs. "Luke, I caution you. In my presence, you refer to Mr. Grey with more respect. Don't think for one second, that because your sitting on the sofa, and not lying bloodied on the floor that you've won a reprieve."

"JT, let's get real. I just met Ana. Not to mention she's young. Too young, and if you want the truth, I'm surprised Grey hasn't shied away from her because of her age. Hell, she's only a couple of months removed from jail bait."

"Dear I say, thou doth protest too much."

He chuckles. "I give up. You're quoting Shakespeare, and parsing my words. Just because I'm adamant doesn't mean I'm protesting," he groans, "tell me JT when did you become society's moral compass?"

"This is getting old." I come to my feet, and I glare down at him. "You may want to be dismissive, but for me ogling the boss's girlfriend is a serious lapse in judgment and a major break in professional decorum. At the end of the day, that's the crux of the problem for me. Any inappropriate action or thoughts of any kind towards his/her subject weakens the ability of an Agent to perform his or her job effectively."

His nostrils flare, and he leaps to his feet. "Stop talking in the abstract. I don't need a speech. Feel free to reprimand me, but I would never put Ana at risk, or anyone under my protection for that matter!"

Staring up at him, I let all his words play through my mind. I can't discern if he's lying to me, or lying to himself- the sad truth I don't think he knows. "Get out of here."

"What are you going to do?"

"Think about what I'm going to do."

Heading out, Luke rests his hand on my shoulder. "You don't want his unhappiness on your conscious. Or hers."

* * *

**APOV**

I dock the overnight bag at the end of the sofa. "It's probably Luke, I'll get it."

Merely raising her eyebrows from the pages of the Tiffany catalog, Kate mumbles, "Okay."

Rolling my eyes at the ceiling, I hurry to the door before Luke barges in thinking I'm being held, hostage. However, I pause for a moment at the door checking my front. I tuck my t-shirt tightly inside the waistband of my jeans, and then I grasp the doorknob hurling the door back. But my ebullience falters when I find Mr. Taylor waiting on the other side, and it slips even farther when I crane my neck and Luke isn't simply hiding behind him.

"Miss Steele."

"Where's Luke?"

Mr. Taylor's lips form into a hardline. "Can I come in?"

"Where are my manners." Opening the door wider, I step aside, and Mr. Taylor strolls across the threshold taking possession of the doorknob. I want to say something, but mindful of his status, and seniority I bite my tongue and let him.

"Hi, Taylor. No Luke," Kate echoes my sentiment.

Politely, Mr. Taylor acknowledges her and only after making eye contact with me does he addresses our inquiries. "Luke isn't feeling well-"

"What? He was fine when I saw him earlier."

"Luke hadn't been feeling well all day, and he got progressively worse which is why I made the decision to send him home-"

I interrupt him again. "By home do you mean, Seattle."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Kate waves her hand in the air as if in school. "Yes," I say.

"I hated to interrupt but I wanted to say have a good night see you tomorrow. I'm heading to my room."

"Good night Kate. It's early, going to bed already?"

"No, I needed to prep some things." She's vague so I drop the inquisition, it's clear she doesn't want to go into detail in front of company.

I wait for Kate to make it inside her room, then I start in on Mr. Taylor. "I can't believe he hid not feeling well from me."

"He's a professional, Miss Steele."

"What's professional about hiding being sick?"

"It's his job to worry about you, not the other way around. And he's spent enough time around you to know your kind heart. He didn't want to concern you. But I assure you, it's not serious. I suspect Luke's sudden illness is most likely exhaustion brought on by backpacking across South America, then delving back into work right away. Sending him to Seattle will force him to get the rest he needs. Some R and R, and he'll back to normal."

"I hope you're right, and not telling me what I want to hear."

"I'm not. Ultimately he can't protect you if he's sick and protecting you is what's important."

"So, you're my interim bodyguard.?" I say, prancing by him on my way to my luggage.

The man is fast, he reaches the designer tote before I do. "No. Ryan Reynolds is replacing him." Mr. Taylor grabs my jacket from the handle. "I'm filling in tonight because we didn't have time to get him here."

A gentleman always, Mr. Taylor helps me with the jacket. "Thank you," I say, and he wheels the roller bag to the side.

"Mr. Grey said for you not to bring anything, he has everything you need."

"Really, I hardly brought any of my new stuff with me, and I-"

A rare smile creeps across, his lips surprising me. "Miss Steele have you not learned anything in the week you've spent with Mr. Grey."

Sighing I run my fingers through my hair. "Whatever. Let's get going before I'm late."

"We're changing protocol tonight. I'm going to drive you to work."

"Huh." I come to a halt at the door. "What about my car?"

"We'll retrieve it in the morning."

He opens the door, and I sashay through it. "In that case, I'm riding shotgun." Impishly, I shout over my shoulders.

"Yes ma'am," he replies. Closing the apartment door, Mr. Taylor catches up with me opening the front door of the SUV for me. I slide inside, and he jogs to the driver's side.

The engine roars to life, he turns to me, and I smile up at him. His eyes are crinkling, so I take advantage of his avuncular nature, before the tough guy resurfaces, reminding him of his loyalties. "This is fun; I get to spend some time with you."

"Ha ha," Mr. Taylor chuckles. "Fun. I haven't been called that in a long time."

"I bet Miss Jones would beg to differ-" Remembering that I'm not with Luke, we're not that cozy. I stop myself and apologize for the inappropriate remark.

Checking both ways, he pulls into the light traffic. "You're fine Miss Steele," he says straightening the SUV in the road.

I twist in my seatbelt, taking this as an open invitation to continue with the playful banter. "I bet you were quite the lady's man when you were younger."

He gives me a sideways glance. "Younger," he repeats, and quickly puts his eyes back on the road, "I'm not that old you know. But I guess when you're 18 everyone, and everything is old."

"You think I'm too young for him don't you?"

"Where's that coming from?" Timing the traffic signal, Mr. Taylor rolls the SUV to a stop just as inside the three discs' glow from amber to red and he fixes his eyes on me. "Miss Steele, you make him happier than I've ever seen him. And that's all that matters." He holds my gaze for a moment, then facing forward he presses the gas, and we're mobile again.

"I'm glad he has you. He needs someone strong, and capable on his side. Regretably, he hasn't had that."

"Thank you, but you give me too much credit. The Greys have been a great support system for him... when he lets them. Now he has you, and you're his everything ..." he pauses. "Can you handle that?"

"I think so. It feels as if life has prepared me for this exact moment."

"Yes. You're so well adjusted, it's easy to forget your childhood was fraught with pain too."

"I'm glad that's the aura I put off because I don't feel it, especially lately."

He merges the Audi into the freeway traffic. "Can we change the subject for a moment?"

"Gladly."

"Luke-"

"What about him?"

"How has it been working with him?" My shoulders immediately bunch, and Mr. Taylor chuckles. "Relax, this isn't a reconnaissance mission, I'm simply taking advantage of a prime opportunity to evaluate the performance of one of my employees."

"We haven't spent that much together, but I have no complaints. I'm well aware I made quite the fuss, over the idea of a CPO, but thus far things haven't panned out as horribly as I had worked it out in my mind. Granted the whole concept is still foreign to me, the notion that my life is no longer my own is taking some getting used to…" I stare forward. "But, I'm good."

"You do realize this is just the tip of the iceberg?" He shoots me a glance. "Excuse my French but the shit goes deeper so don't judge how bad or how good things are right now for how well or how poorly things will go in the future."

I scrunch up my face. "I'm confused Mr. Taylor are you trying to discourage me?"

"No. I can't deny that I feel a connection to you. You remind me of my Sophie. So, without overstepping, I just want to offer a word of caution."

I rest my back against the car door. "Mr. Taylor why do I think there's more going on than what you're admitting."

"Yep, he's met his match. You have a healthy dose of skepticism, that should keep him on his toes." Artfully, he shuts me down with the back-handed compliment, and we ride in silence the rest of the way.

There's limited foot traffic at the store, so I busy myself restocking the shelves, and replaying the conversation with Mr. Taylor over and over concentrating on his every word; in order, to determine if there's more behind them. But nothing out of the ordinary stands out so I stop trying to find danger where none resides and accept our interaction at face value - a cordial conversation. Sighing, I crouch, then I sink down on the floor spreading my legs wide dragging items from the bottom shelf in the space, wiping each off before restacking them.

Two hours later and the row is immaculate, so I saunter to the counter for my next assignment. Paul meets me around the corner, dismissing me. Thanking him, I race to the back, grab my personal stuff and dash out of the front door before he has time to change his mind. The cold air brushes across my face, and closing my eyes I tip my head back breathing in the crispness of the night as the steel from the class door slides along my fingertips.

My head lolls forward, and I sprint in the direction of my chariot. The back door opens, as I close in on the black behemoth. It's odd. In the windshield, I clearly see Mr. Taylor in the front seat perched behind the wheel.

A head peeks out. "It's getting cold. Are you coming?"

"Uh." Gasping, I run towards the disembodied voice, and Christian gracefully steps out of the back. Yelping, I rush to him, and throw my arms around his neck, wrapping my legs around his waist. Being outed, is of no concern to me at the moment I'm in his arms; the parking lot is fairly sparse so the chances are slim to none that anyone would spot us anyways. And if they did, the Birkenstock and homeschool crowd probably wouldn't recognize him.

He cups me under the curves of my cheeks. "Hi, baby. This is the greeting I like."

"What are you doing here, I thought I'd see you at the hotel," I say, and clinging to his neck I bury my head in his shoulders, luxuriating in his scent.

He pushes me back. "We'll talk inside the car, it's chilly." Christian loosens his embrace, I slide down his body, takes his hands when my converse clad feet touches the ground.

Slithering across the leather, I bustle my seatbelt. "Well."

Dazzling me with his winning smile, Christian mocks me. "I wanted to see you. I didn't realize I needed a reason," he adds.

"You don't. I just get the feeling I'm in on a joke, but being left out of the punchline."

Extending his long fingers, Christian feathers wayward strands of hair from my eyes. "Where's that coming from?"

I shrug my shoulders. He gives the impression of being sincere, so, I stop probing. "You just never know with you, there's always an agenda."

"Agenda." Chuckling, Christian's thumb flits, ironing out the creases on my forehead. "Baby, there isn't an ulterior motive. I apologize for showing up unannounced, I had an idea to surprise you, but the surprise is on me. I didn't plan for this reaction."

I bump his hand out of the way. "Christian, I'm always happy to see you." I hug his arm and rest my head on the bulging bicep hidden by the layers of leather and cotton. "I wasn't expecting you is all," I murmur.

He kisses me on the top of my head. "You'd better get used to it, I get off on the unexpected."

"Trust me, I know."

He snorts. "How was work?"

"Slow. I kept myself busy tidying up the shelves."

"You know- "

I lift my head. "Don't start. I'm not quitting my job."

His opposite arm reaches across his chest, gently tapping my head back down. "Then tell me are you hungry. When's the last time you ate?"

"I'm not hungry, and if you must know, I ate just before you showed up at the apartment."

"Anastasia, that was hours ago." Carrying me with him, Christian lists forward. "Taylor. Pull into the IHOP up ahead."

Unfettering from him, I feign checking his temperature. "Ihop?"

"Yes. Ihop." Swiveling in his seatbelt, Christian catches me off guard smashing his lips to mine pinning the back of my head to the seat. Our tongues braid together, the memory of anything, and everything fades away as he conquers my every thought. Breaking the kiss, he touches his forehead to my forehead. "I'm, so in love with you," he murmurs, "but you must eat." Jerking his head back, in the intermittent streetlight, Christian's heated gaze studies my face. "You drive me crazy, with the not eating. Do I need to add feed you to your prescribed list?"

I draw my chin in. "I didn't realize I had a prescribed list," I sass, "Christian, before you I'd managed to feed myself quite well, thank you very much. Now. I'm not famish, wasting away, or remotely hungry so it's not crucial that I eat right at this minute, I can wait until we get to the Heathman."

He settles back into his seat. "We're not going to the Heathman-"

"We're not."

"No. We're going to your place-"

I guffaw. "Now it makes sense."

"What?"

"Nothing…"

Unfastening his seatbelt, Christian hustles closer putting his mouth to my ear. "Don't be mad. I was hoping to pick up where we'd left off. I'm looking forward to dirtying up your girlish room some more." He lowers his voice. "So, for what I have planned for you, you'll need your strength." It is smooth and commanding. He's well aware of what he's doing, he could do it in his sleep- control me with the seductive quality of his voice.

"We're here sir," Mr. Taylor announces

Undoing my seatbelt, Christian picks up my hand dragging me across the seat, and when Mr. Taylor opens his door; deftly he pulls me out with him. Hand, in hand we stroll behind Mr. Taylor, and together we walk through the door he's holding open for us. I scan the spacious dining room, it's empty revealing every minutiae of the dated interior.

I lean into his side. "Did you do this?" I whisper.

He tilts his head down. "Do what?"

"Pay people off. Look around no one's here."

Christian's fingers tighten around mine, cutting off the circulation. "No," he snaps. "Ever considered it's the establishment." His speedy and curt response signals that I hit a nerve.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No, more like disappointed." Tugging on my hand, he doesn't wait for proof of life, he leads me into the dingy diningroom.

Baffled, I trail behind him. "Christian, if you're not happy why are we here."

"It's your favorite place." Letting go of my hand, he waves at the booth. "Get in."

Clearly, agitated he slides in and slumps down next to me on the bench. Meanwhile, Mr. Taylor occupies the bench on the other side and facing us he slides two menus in front of Christian and me. I glance down at the tri-folds littered with greasy stains, and spilled juice, and peeking up my eyes meander inspecting the eatery as if it's my first visit. I'm with Christian, so it feels like my first time.

I take notice of us in the rows of mirrored panels on the walls. In my standard collegiate dress, I fit right in with the soiled carpet, split leather upholstery, and the tinge of smoke in the air. On the other hand, they're misfits; Mr. Taylor in his G-man black suit is better suited for a state dinner at the white house, and Christian clad in jeans, white shirt, and a leather bomber jacket can't conceal his power behind the casual attire. His pecking order, in the universe, is unquestionable.

Gripping his thigh, I peer up at him. "I'm sorry."

"I know."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." Angling his head, he gives me a peck on my forehead.

"Sir, everything appears to be in order here, I'll wait for you and Miss Steele in the SUV."

"Fine, Taylor," Christian says.

"Have some coffee at least Mr. Taylor."

Christian scoffs. "We'll bring him some." How rude I think to myself, but Mr. Taylor appears unfazed, so I bridle my tongue.

He comes to his feet. "Thank you, Miss Steele, but I've had my share of coffee for the night." He winks, and I give a half smile.

"What's that all about, one evening and you two are bosom buddies."

"Christian, I offered the man coffee, not a night of passion." He can't suppress his smile, but before he can offer a rebuttal, a waitress befitting the diner, and one I've never seen approaches our booth.

She clicks the end of her pen, against her pad. "So Mr. if- I- was a younger woman-I'd do you-right here- you're- so- unbelievably-good-looking what can I get for you." Like the empty restaurant she's working in, the older woman is surreal in the way she's so stereotypical of every washed up waitress ever written in a movie, TV series, or play down to her overly processed blonde hair, gum smacking, hyper-sensuality, and sassy wisecracking attitude. In a way, I admire her brashness. Women ogle Christian all the time, she's the only one to have the chutzpa to blatantly flirt with him. And though she's unprofessional, and her comments inappropriate I'm too drawn to her to lambaste her.

Christian, on the other hand, doesn't share in my amusement, true to form he lets her have it. And like any wisecracking, gum smacking, waitress worth her weight in salt she gives it right back to him. Fortunately, the dust-up is temporal, and quickly we return to some similes of reality in a dream I'm waiting to wake up from. Christian orders way too much food, but I leave it alone, I've already stepped all over his surprise.

"The teabag out please."

"Sure Doll. By the way you're a lucky girl."

I giggle. "Thank you," I say, and Christian shakes his head.

She points her head at the door. "What about Mr. Suit, is he coming back. He's good looking too, and he's closer to my age," she cackles.

Christian surveys her name tag. "Penny." His voice is soft, but firm.

Getting the message, the woman shoves her pen through the tall bun nesting perfectly in place on top of her head. "Hold your horses, sweetie, I'm going to place your order. We've made our peace let's stay friends."

Turns out the restaurant had suffered a minor electrical fire, and had only reopened a few minutes before we arrived. Hence the empty dining room, but as we dined the patrons started to file in. Cognizant of the security risk of a full restaurant, Christian wraps things up. He drops several $100 bills on the table, and I set a glass on top to keep the money from flying away.

"$400. Generous tip."

Hanging on to my hand, he pushes the door open, pulling me through it. "To me, it's just money, in her hands, it's much more valuable - rent, food, etc."

"Regardless, it was thoughtful and very nice of you."

"Eh," he shrugs, "despite her questionable customer service, she's a very capable waitress. She earned it

"Still, it was nice."

Halting, Christian tugs on my hand, pulling me to him and tilting his head down he plants a kiss on my lips. "This is nice."

The corners of my mouth curls. "Progress," I murmur against his lips.

He smirks. "Still, don't like the word." Capturing my bottom lip between his teeth Christian bites down softly, and releases. "Are you ready."

"For what?"

"For what I have planned for you?"

"I don't know should I be worried?"

"Very." His voice dips into a sultry murmur, and spinning forward he unwinds our limbs.

"How worried?" I say, stumbling behind him.

Under the low rumble of cars parking, I hear him laughing. "Trust me, it's a good worry. The kind that will have you coming over. And over." I stop in my tracks, dragging him to a standstill. "Shitttt!" Dropping my hand, Christian switches the hot coffee to his free hand and shakes the offended hand.

I flinch. "I'm sorry, I forgot about the coffee."

He inspects his clothes, and hand "I'm good. Fortunately, the lid was on tight so just a little got on me."

I cradle the injured hand in mine. "Let me kiss it and make it better."

A coffee fiasco averted, we make it to the SUV without further incidence, and Christian passes the cup to Mr. Taylor. "This is for you." The bodyguard glimpses the carryout cup with wry amusement, and I wink at him. Okay, I try to wink. Instead, I'm fairly certain I exhibited something akin to a seizure of some kind.

"Thank you," Mr. Taylor says to Christian, but acknowledges me.

Christian helps me inside the SUV, and yawning, I slide my seat buckle across my chest and waist. "Tired?"

"Somewhat."

"Can we revisit the work topic?"

The seatbelt clicks. "No."

"At least you gave it some thought."

"Christian, we've beaten the topic to a pulp. Besides, works not the problem. You are. Feeding me pancakes, and bacon this time of night."

"In that case, let me remedy the situation." Unfastening the safety restraint, he heaves me onto his lap swathing me in his arm like a newborn.

Snuggling up to his side, I purr my pleasure into the cradle of his adoring embrace. "You are so considerate Christian Grey, from the generous tip to enduring a meal at my favorite chain restaurant."

"Anything for you," he murmurs, and they are the last words I hear before he's waking me up in front of my apartment.

Grappling to sit upright, I rub the sleep out of my eyes. "That was fast."

"You were tired so I had Jason go over the speed limit," he says with a straight face.

I thump him on the shoulder. "Ah," I gape.

Starting at the top of my head, he smooths his hand down the length of my hair. "You're so gullible." Splaying his hand on the small of my back, he leans into the front seat. "8 am Taylor, I have a conference call at 9. What time tomorrow is Ryan due?"

"About 9:30, I got Miss Steele's schedule from Luke."

"Baby does that work for you?"

"I guess; I was hoping to sneak in a run, but I can do it later in the day."

He rubs his hand up and down my spine. "No. I'll run with you, instead of going to the gym." Christian peeks around me. "Hear that Taylor."

"Yes, sir I'll bring your workout clothes first thing in the morning."

"Thank you, and Taylor makes sure Ryan is briefed on protocol. Remind me, when is Luke returning?"

"Monday, but I'll keep you posted if anything changes. And yes I reviewed procedure with Ryan. Twice on the phone, and we will have a face to face when he arrives."

"Perfect." Christian cups his right-hand man on the shoulder. "Stay back, I got this," he says. Complying Mr. Taylor closes the door, and sits back into his seat.

When he's outside the SUV Christian crouches directing me to get on his back. Giggling through my sleepiness, I climb on and clinging to his neck I close the door with my foot. Galloping, Christian carries me inside the apartment. Closing the door, he squats and laughing uncontrollably I slide down his back.

"That was fun. I like this playful Christian where has he been hiding?"

He flicks the tip of my nose. "Right here in front of you." The light filtering from under Kate's bedroom door distracts me from his solemn gaze.

"Kate's home," I whisper, "we're going have to curtail the deviousness."

Thrusting his hand into the pocket of his bomber jacket, Christian unfurls a scarf. "That's why I planned ahead. I'll gag you."

"Gag me." My eyes widen. "I thought you were going to tie me up."

He jams his hand in the other pocket, unleashing a bevy of silk ties, in varying textures, and shades of gray. "Like I said, I planned ahead."

* * *

**APOV**

I adjust the rearview mirror checking for Reynolds. Luke would've been here by now; promptness is one of his trademarks. Exasperated, I glance down at my cell, and the truth is a sobering fact- he's not late, I'm way early. Burying the back of my head into the headrest, I close my eyes conjuring up the images of last night, and instantaneously my frustration abates. Licking my bottom lip, I call to mind my hands and feet bound to my bed, ice being trailed down my body, and the gag in my mouth muffling the pleasure of it all. To Christian it was his way of giving me a peek inside Sodom and Gomorrah, without letting me enter, unawares I've sampled from a table in the middle of the town square with Luke. Still, the tastes he provided far exceeded anything I'd feasted on. Christian is fond of saying I raise the ordinary to the extraordinary, my platinum and diamond encrusted bracelet is the proof. When in reality it is he that has the singular ability to elevate something from remarkable to wondrous, and take what is already divine to sublime.

Recollections of him entering me with deep penetrating thrusts cause the bundle of nerves between my legs to pulsate. I have to clench my thighs together to stem the wetness threatening to flood my panties. A car rolls up behind me, forcing me to peel my eyes open. Pitching forward I check the rearview mirror. It's Reynolds, and I follow him as he expertly exits his car coming to mine.

He taps on the window, nonchalantly I wind it down, and he gives my profile a once over. "Miss Steele, are you're feeling well, your face is flushed."

"Um," I stutter, "yes, I guess I got overheated while waiting for you. The heater's temperature is up pretty high."

He rests his hands, on the window. "Yes, the morning is a nippy one. Sorry, if I made you wait. This is the time I was told be here."

I wave him off. "Don't worry Reynolds, it's all good," I say smiling up at him, " do you remember me? You drove me home after Coping Together, and I forced you to listen to 90's R&amp;B, and old school rap." Self-conscious of my wanton state, I attempt to divert his attention with idle chit chat.

He chuckles. "Of course Miss Steele, I remember you." Surveying the surrounding, he stands upright. "The traffic is picking up, so we should get going."

The week with Reynolds was uneventful, his only drawback he wasn't Luke. I didn't realize how much I'd come to depend on Luke until he wasn't here this week for me to lean on. I'd question his decision to stay on as my bodyguard, but this week substantiated his insightful decision. Somehow, we're making the crazy work. We're rising above, the brief but impactful affair, to becoming trusted confidants. Dear friends, not the made up kind people create to validate their failed coupling. And as much as Christian and Mr. Taylor want to sell me on him being sick, my intuition tells me there's more. Without a doubt, if he were sick Luke would call me.

Shelving the incredulity, and I return my focus to Ray. I drift in and out of his monologue, mainly because I'd rehearsed it in my head chapter, and verse. Sure there are some grammatical changes, but for all intents and purposes, he didn't veer much from what I'd predicted he'd say.

"When did your life become one of those damn Soap Operas," Ray blurts out, and my ears perk up. That's different. I had no idea, he knew what the art form was.

"Oh yeah, because a life riddled with abuse, and homelessness was so much better." I was prepared to agree with him. In my mind I have similar thoughts, but when my mouth opens the spiteful commentary gushed out.

"Sorry kiddo, I wasn't thinking."

"Dad. I'm fine. I agree with you. I just wanted to keep things in perspective. Christian, isn't the worse thing to happen to me."

He scrubs his hand over his face. "That's not the point, but I'd defy anyone to come up with a better a description for your life right now. A young woman reunites with a long lost soulmate, who happens to be a handsome billionaire who then turns around and rejects her when she's pregnant. Then upping the intrigue, said young woman meets another handsome suitor who turns out be her ex-lover's bodyguard. Then adding to the drama, the two keep their romance a secret from the handsome bachelor whom she's reunited with."

"When you put it like that, it is kind of tawdry." I put my hand on this thigh. "But dad it's real life - my life."

"I don't know this Christian Grey, and apparently, I'm the only person in the civilized world who doesn't, but I do know Luke Sawyer. I don't care how much money he has, money nor power makes a man. For my money, Luke's the one proven to be the man in this equation. He stood by your side when the asshole Grey wouldn't. How does the saying go, 'absolute power, corrupts absolutely?' "

"And money is the root of all evil. There are tons more, we could make a day of it quoting these gems. But none of them defines Christian. Nor does the ample money he makes, the expensive clothes he buys, or the stupidly dreadful mistake he made. I love him dad, and he's so sorry for not being there for me. He knows what he missed out on."

"Kiddo, a few short months ago, you summoned me here to confess your undying love for Luke now it's Christian. I'm not criticizing you, it's exactly what I'd expect from a young girl your age. To me It says a lot, perhaps, you need to stop with all this love talk and give up boys."

"Seriously dad." I cock my head to the side. "That ship sailed a long time ago."

"Don't be so quick to laugh it off, it's not the wishful thinking of a father, it's the wisdom of father time."

"I appreciate your concern, but declaring a boy free zone around me isn't the solution. And I'm 18 Dad, not a baby. I can vote. I can serve on a jury-"

"Yes. In the eyes of the law, you're an adult. Guess what, adults can do some messed up things too. And you're embroiling yourself in a mess…"

"It's not a mess." I roll my eyes up at the ceiling. "Maybe it is. But we're careful so it doesn't get messier."

"Careful." Derisively, he snorts. "Telltale sign of your youth, love doesn't lend itself to carefulness. By its nature love is impetuous."

"I don't love him."

"Another sign of naiveté. Being in love doesn't require two people. Ironic I know. How you feel is irrelevant. Certainly, he'd prefer if you reciprocated, but his heart wants what it wants. With that in mind do you think this is fair to the young man?"

"Dad, it was Luke's idea."

"Kiddo, when it comes to you that young man can't see his way to doing the right thing, you're going to have to help him. Directly, or indirectly, asking him to stand on the sideline and watch as your relationship with this Christian fellow flourish- is selfish." He cups, my chin separating my teeth from my bottom lip, unknowingly mirroring a Christian move. "And you're not selfish."

"Could it be that you're on Luke's side because you don't like Christian."

"I'm your father, there's only one side… yours. You know where I stand on the issue. Personally, I think you should ditch them both. Go to Boston. Get your education, love will come soon enough. Your mother and I haven't been prime examples for you. We've failed you in so many ways, I understand the void – "

"Ray, let me stop you, this isn't about you, mom, or a need to be loved. I've exorcised those demons."

He stares into my eyes. "It's times like these I wish you had a mother. A woman would know what to say; be more tender, not so direct."

"Raymond Steele, you are a far more superior parent than any woman. You opened your heart to me when you didn't have to. I'm not your blood. It's because of God's grace, and you, that I'm here today. You're the best dad, God hand-picked you for me."

He clears his throat, to cover up the mistiness. "On that note, the world's best dad, better feed his daughter who's fading away before his very eye."

"Really dad." I throw my hands up. "You and Christian are going to get along just fine. You're both obsessed with feeding me for one thing."

Ray comes to his feet. "You gotta start somewhere I guess," he cracks while grabbing my blazer from the side chair, and holding it open for me. "I made lunch reservations for us at the fancy place down the street."

I stretch my arms back. "Ooh, that is fancy," I note, as Ray shimmies the jacket up my arms. "Especially for you. What gives."

"What. I'm not capable of more than a burger joint."

I pick up my purse. "Sure you are."

"Listen kiddo, I don't want your hired goon following us. I can' take care of my daughter."

"But dad it's Christian's insistent. It's for my safety."

He opens the door. "Safety my ass. He's a control freak." I so badly want to agree, but I don't want to add a scintilla to his case against Christian, so I stay mum and just let him escort me out the door.

Standing at his post, Reynolds greets us soon as we touch down on the porch. "Miss Steele-"

With great pride Ray interrupts him. "Son, I realize you have a job to do, but Miss Steele is with her father, and I'm more than capable of taking care of my daughter so you won't be needed whilst she's with me."

"No offense sir -" Gleefully, Ray again cuts him off.

"No offense taken, because I don't give a f-"

"Dad!" I scold him, and apologize to Reynolds."

"It's okay, Miss Steele. But Mr. Steele, with all due respect I take my orders from Mr. Grey."

"Son, I'm a military man, I take my orders from the United States government, so unless Mr. Grey is the president of the United States, I'm not impressed," Ray mutters.

I graze him on the arm. "Dad this is lunch, not war," I reason intending to illustrate the absurdity in his fiery rhetoric.

"Annie, I'm just advising the young man that his boss isn't here to stop me, and he shouldn't try either."

My passive approach fails, so I intervening I take over; in order, to mitigate the fallout. "Reynolds please stay back. It'll be fine. I'll talk to Christian. The restaurant is only about 2 miles away. We'll have lunch and come right back. I promise." I cut my eyes at Ray. "Right Dad."

"Right."

"Yes, ma'am Miss Steele." Re-evaluating his decision, a hesitant Reynolds retires to his car.

I cross my arms. "Was that show of force necessary?" Reynolds gone, I sufficiently chastise him.

He puts his hand at the small of my back, propelling me forward. "Kidding me that's just the warm-up act," he smirks. "What's with the Miss Steele, and ma'am?" Ray says as we walk to his pickup truck.

"It's a thing with Christian, something about protocol."

Ray opens the door for me. "Bullshit, protocol."

Gripping the straps, I hoist myself up into the twin cab. "Must you object to every little thing."

"I'm not objecting; I'm pointing out the obvious. The young man seems like a piece of works." He slams the door, and dragging my seatbelt across my body, I wait for him to hop in the cab with me."

"Don't rush to a verdict."

"Oh, no this isn't a rush." Ray's ominous suggestion, leaves me irresolute that he'll ever warm up to Christian. "Someone is giving your bodyguard the business," he says, as he peers into the review mirror.

I shift in my seat, peeking out the back window of the truck. "By someone, you mean Christian." Sure enough, Reynolds is on the phone, and from my vantage point, his demeanor reads he's getting his behind handed to him. A surge of guilt runs through me, but before I can course correct Ray eases the truck into the slow moving traffic on my block.

The black SUV fades into the background, and I flop forward. "So. Kiddo. What else is going on with you other than the Billionaire trying to bankroll your life."

"Dad! I'm not taking money from Christian. I'm offended. You just called me a ho." The word is barely out as the truck slows, then swerves into a vacant parking space on the tree line street.

Throwing the gear into park, Ray cups my face commandeering my attention. "Listen to me little girl, don't you **EVER** refer to yourself in that way in or out of my presence again."

I swallow. "Yes, sir." He drops his hand, tossing his arm across the back of the seat.

"With that being said, I will confess, it was my not so subtle knock at what I see as the young man's attempt to control every aspect of your life. The bodyguard, expensive gifts; who gives a teenage girl jewelry that costs the same or more than the crown jewels. I don't care how sentimental the intent." Ray's eyes go from the sparkling piece hugging my neck, to the dazzling diamonds encircling my wrist. "If it smells like horseshit is on the bottom of your shoes. Horseshit is on the bottom of your shoes. He's taking advantage of your naiveté, but the game plan is as old as the existence of man. Shower a young woman with lavish gifts, and attention-"

I hold onto his dangling fingers. "Dad, I appreciate your concern, but it's unfounded. Christian isn't the Svengali you're making him out to be, and if somehow I've said or done anything to lead you in that direction. I'm doing you and Christian a disservice because you two have more in common than not. He buys me what he can afford, and it just so happens he can afford a lot. You can't fault him for being successful." Hiding behind my veil, I offer a staunch support of Christian when in reality I share my dad's sentiment on this one issue. But as the loving girlfriend, I have to dampen down the discord. "You don't know him the way I do, and if you think a few sparkly objects, can so easily influence my values, you don't know me."

"I know you. You have a big heart; you're easy to forgive. But kiddo, my memory is long, it's going to take me more than an hour to forgive that man." Dragging his hand back, he nods his head at the phone going off on my lap. "You better get it." dad says, shifting into drive, and inching the truck back onto the two-lane, road.

I ignore the buzzing and stay engage with him. "If only that were true, I wouldn't be living with the fallout from how Christian handled my pregnancy. It still haunts me, but dad I have so much baggage I had to let one go." The buzzing stops, I pick up the phone, the two missed calls from Christian stands out.

"Kiddo, he's important to you, give me some time I'll get there."

"Deal." Right on time, the cell beeps. This time, I hurriedly answer it. "Hi."

"Don't fucking hi me. What the fuck do you think you're doing? And why aren't you answering your fucking phone." Christian shouts, and I slap my hand over the handset in a rush to block his volatile voice from transmitting through the cell. But I'm too late, Ray grunts his disapproval.

I whip my head to the side, offering him both a reassuring glance and a rebuke. Lowering the handset, I whisper. "Save it. You don't get to criticize him- this one is on you…"

"Anastasia-"

"Sorry, Christian, you and my dad were talking to me at the same -"

Violently, the phone jounces from my hands, as a loud boom erupts around us. The commotion seemingly kicks off a cacophony of screeching tires, honking horns, and screaming. At the same time, I'm hurled forward, I'm simultaneously jostled from side to side. And as the truck skids, out the crack of my eyes, I get a peek over the ledge. The cars below are a blur. I've driven this overpass every day, for the last 4 years, and not once considered the height of the railings. I didn't think I had too, naively I trusted the government to do its job. Enact proper safety requirements, but my faith is dwindling. The concrete barrier seems too low for regulation. As I obsess over heights, an arm pummels me in the chest slamming me back into the seat. My diaphragm spasms. Breathing hard I close my eyes and resign myself to my fate. To soothe my soul, I imagine Christian serenading me with, "Angel." The crooning is so evocative; it caresses my heart. So, melding into the seat, I listen and wait. Y_ou're in the arms of the angel...May you find some comfort here, a _calm wash over me. Then everything stops.

The reemerging noise cuts through my tranquility, and my eyelids flutter. Ray is hovering over me. Panic is worrying his face, but he's composed. Patting me down with the precision of a trained physician, he examines every inch of my torso. "Are you okay kiddo."

I wince. "Yes." Intentionally, I omit the pain I experienced from his arm. There's no need piling onto his guilt, it was instinctual. He was just exerted too much force. "What happened?" I groan, my head and eyes wandering around the cabin, investigating a muffled sound.

"Your phone." He ignores the question I asked him answering the one unasked. "Someone hit us…," he finally says, his voice trailing off as he descends further into the floorboard. Retrieving the cell, Dad dusts it off, putting it to my ear. "Talk to the young man before he has a coronary." The fog clears, jogging my memory. I recall talking to Christian, before being plunged into the hell.

"Christian," I yelp, and the dam breaks. The rush of emotion is unexpected, but simply hearing him breathing jars something loose. It's a reminder of the jagged edge dividing immortality from mortality.

"You're crying. Are you okay? What the fuck happened?" His questions are gruff. Rapid fire, he doesn't give me a chance to respond to one before he's on to the next. It's just as well, I can't handle it. So, I shove the phone in front of Ray.

"Son, you best tell me something, Ana is in tears, and she was fine before talking to you." A watchful eye on me, Ray listens intently. "She didn't sustain any noticeable injury in the accident. The air bag didn't even deploy, but still, the roadside system notified 911. The first responders should be here shortly." His head bobs, as he checks his side mirror. "Yes, I'm very familiar with emotional women, but my Annie isn't usually one," he says, all the while monitoring the mirror. "I see him." No further explanation uttered, Ray simply hands the phone back to me, and exits the truck."

Christian doesn't let me get a word in edgewise; he rails into me. "Really. You want to do this now," I sniffle, "Reynolds wouldn't have prevented this accident. And that's what it was. An accident. He would've been in a separate car."

"You're sitting on the side of the road in a pickup truck, that was just broadsided; you don't get to adjudicate my security decisions." The last of my tears dry up. His voice is chilling and his words unsympathetic, both unwelcome reminders of his past behavior.

"Christian-" Blaring sirens, torpedoes my scathing reprove of his uncaring attitude in my moment of need. "I have to go. The police and ambulance are here."

"Anastasia." There's silence on his end of the line and on any other day I'd appreciate the stillness but today I need his words.

A sorrowful sigh escapes me. "I better go."

"Yes." Is his pitiful comeback. I disconnect refusing to concede another point to him.

I wait for the EMTs' to pull off, and stroll to the back of the pickup truck to my dad and Reynolds. I'm just in time to hear the policeman's assessment of the damages. Ray scowls at me, Reynolds does his darndest to avoid me altogether. "A good mechanic should be able to punch this out right out, without much money," the officer says demonstrating how.

"Thank you officer, but I'm not concerned about this truck. I can get a new one. I'm grateful my daughter wasn't severely injured or worse. I just wish she wasn't so stubborn." Ray, was none too happy that I declined to go to the hospital. But the EMTs' were comfortable with the decision, it fell well within their protocol. I didn't hit my head, exhibit any signs of dizziness, and my initial confusion had subdivided.

I have to restrain, myself from acting like a petulant child, and stick my tongue out at him. Instead, I retaliate with, "People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones."

"I survived Nam, some loser who's rights I fought for ain't going to take me out."

"Using that hypothesis, I'm good too. I survived months on the streets." Our back and forth opened old wounds. I'm remorseful; as soon as, the words tumble out of my mouth. The worry concentrated in his eyes, is overtaken by his lingering guilt. Holding his gaze, I step around the edge of the tailgate and coming up behind him I wrap him up. "It wasn't your fault." I lay the side of my face on his back. "None of it," I mutter.

Ray unwinds my arms, pulling round to his front. "Son. Take her home for me," he says, pawning me off on the bodyguard, as if I'm some misbehaving toddler under his foot. But I'm not mad at him. Ray is a stoic military man, who's averse to any show of emotion, forget about public display. None the less, I pricked his heart, I heard it in the cadence of his voice. "I'm going to finish up with the officer, and I'll meet you there."

Reclining back in the seat, I close my eyes. The ride home has the makings of a spoof for _Driving Miss Daisy_, _Riding with Miss Daisy. _Miss Daisy is driving, and Hoke is a passenger with me. But I don't complain, I let him creep along, his cautious driving is Christian's overreaction to what was tantamount to no more than a fender bender. The police surmised the hit and run driver sideswiped the end of the trailer, putting the truck into a tailspin. It could've been so much worse, it felt so much worse. Wrapping my arms around my body, I think about what could've been. Eerily, I experienced the accident the same way I do my dreams; out of body, frame by frame, and then I wake up.

"Miss Steele, we're here," Ryan announces. I peek out the window, my humble apartment building looks like a stately manor. Nothing like a near-death experience to make you appreciate everything. Then noticing a shadowy figure, I cup my hands putting them to the glass and stick my face against it.

"Is that Luke?"

"Yes, ma'am," Reynold confirms, as Luke opens my door.

Sticking his head inside, he cranes to talk to his counterpart. "Dude, I'll take it from here."

"I'm not sure Luke, Mr. Grey gave me very specific instructions. I've already messed up once today. If I do it again, I'm afraid he'll fire me."

"Trust me I got this. I'm her regular CPO," Luke touts, "as long as you post your ass at the door you're good."

"While you two work out your differences, I'm going inside." I duck under Luke's arm, and the debate ends right away.

Luke grabs me before I make my get away. "I'm sorry Miss Steele," Reynolds say leaping from the car.

"I don't have any broken bones; I can walk without either of your assistance." I wrench my arm free and stomp off.

Soon as I make it inside the apartment, I throw my purse on the sofa. Scrambling to my bedroom, I remove my jacket, and discard it to the floor with the shoes. I'm too glum to be meticulous with the designer blazer.

"Hey."

I pivot, and Luke is pressed against the door. "What!"

Pushing off the frame, he covers the floor in two steps. "I was so worried," he says enveloping me in his arms. "Don't be mad, I had to come."

I return his embrace. "I'm okay, and I'm not mad." Having second thoughts, I push back on his arm. "I am mad; why didn't you call me? Tell me you were sick. Speaking of sick, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Seattle."

He releases me. "Things were so fluid, I left it up to Taylor to handle. I didn't go to Seattle, I stayed here-"

"With your friends."

"Yes. I wanted to be near you." I step around him to the bed. "I mean in case you needed me," he clarifies.

I climb up on the bed. "I was worried about you."

"Don't be I'm better." Walking to the bed, he grabs the Afghan. "Why are we talking about me. You're the one who was just in a car accident," Luke says, covering me with the throw.

"Don't you worry either. As you can see the accident wasn't serious. How did you find out anyways?"

The mattress dips, when he sits on the edge of the bed. "Ryan called me, then Taylor."

"Poor Reynolds, he's had a rough day of it."

"He'll survive. But I have to agree with the boss on this one."

"You too. Cut him some slack. My dad is a force to reckon with, and he was in rare form today."

"Why?"

"I don't want to get into it." I pat the afghan down. "Maybe you can help with something. I haven't heard from Christian since the accident, don't you think that's odd."

"He called Ryan right?"

"When it first happened. But he's been silent ever since."

"Then you're good."

"Really. I was in a car accident, and Christian is radio silent. I get a paper cut, and the man goes bonkers."

"I don't have any more to tell you. I'm not in the loop on this one. JT just wanted to give me the heads up." Angling his head down, he stares up at me. "Call him."

"No. I'm not going to stoop to his level. He's punishing me."

Pensively, he stares at me. "Punishing you. That's a stretch isn't it?"

"You know him better than I do, you tell me."

He runs the back of his knuckles along the side of my face, and I close my eyes. "All I know is that you scared the hell of out me, and I had to see for myself that you were okay."

His hand falls away, and I open my eyes. "I'm glad you came by, I needed this."

"I hate it when he makes you sad." Luke leans down, and just as his lips brush my forehead Ray clears his throat. Luke jumps back, and like teenagers caught in the act guilt-ridden we stare forward "So, this is what they're calling close protection these days." Standing in the middle of the doorway, Ray is strikes an opposing figure.

Luke leaps to his feet. "Mr. Steele, it's a pleasure seeing you again." Scrambling to meet dad, he extends a hand when they close the distance. "It's not what it looks like."

Dad shakes his hand. "Good to see you too son. I think you're explaining to the wrong man." Bemused Luke, glances from Ray to me back to Ray.

"What do you have in your hand dad?" I interrupt their awkward exchange.

Ray lifts his hand. "I went to the restaurant, and picked up some chicken noodle soup for lunch."

"Yummy."

Ray's on to me. "Son wait outside for me. We'll chat.

Dad advances to the bed, my eyes follow him, and trails Luke as he exits. "Don't say a word."

"I've got nothing to say." He places the white bag on my bedside table.

"Thank you. I'm actually hungry. And there's nothing like comfort food on a day like this."

"Thought so," he says pulling out a container, and a baguette.

I decline the roll and take the piping hot container he thoughtfully wrapped with a paper napkin from him. Then I accept a plastic spoon. Digging into the thick steaming broth mindlessly I turn the chunks of white chicken, homemade noodles, and vegetable over each other. The aroma wafts through the room giving it the smell of a home- one with a dad, mom, and two point two children. "This tastes, as good as it smells," I say dragging the spoon along my tongue.

Ray packs up the bag with his soup, and the baguette. "I see he ran right over here. You're playing a dangerous game." I clamp my mouth down on the spoon, I'd just fed into it. I hold it in place and stare at Ray as he strolls out the room, leaving me bewildered.

Licking the last of the soup from the spoon, I pluck the lid from the bedside table. Dropping the container into the trash can bracketed by my bedside table, and bed, I dab the corners of my mouth. Crumpling up the paper napkin I toss it into the trash can too. Then picking up the glass of water Ray circled back and brought to me, I wash my soup down. Depositing the glass back on the table, I gawk at the door. But my attempt at eavesdropping is futile, my bed isn't well positioned. So, tossing the Afghan back, I fling my legs over the side of the bed, and stand up.

My belly is satisfied; a siesta is what is lacking. Plus, sleep would be a perfect escape from what's happening on the other side of my bedroom door. Getting comfortable, I strip down to my underclothes, and I crawl into bed under the covers this time. Then I check my cell for the umpteenth time. Sadly, the outcome is the same; no contact from him, and no issues with the phone. Dejected, I clutch the cell to my chest, roll to my back, and fixate on the ceiling. Sleep is proving to be more elusive than I'd predicted.

In lieu of counting sheep, I run down the list of potential misdemeanors I'd accrued over the course of the day. Chief among them my defiance, and it is well within the realm of possibility that the dominant in Christian is viewing my attitude today as particularly insolent; thus, my cruel and inhumane punishment. As archaic as the concept of punishment in a modern day relationship, my complicacy in his perverse need to penalize me at his whim is just as out of step. But to please him I've made my peace- the rationale, my humiliation is in private. So, the rudimentary question is what is the price he wants to exact from me in return for his mercy- my contrition, or my subjugation.

The choices are chilling. Hugging the phone to my chest, I roll to my side, contemplating the legitimacy of Ray's main argument against him. Is Christian controlling me? The idea turns my despair into indignation. Closing my eyes, I vow to not waste another scintilla of my brain matter on Christian, but sleep is a moving target, that I can't seem to pin down, so I turn my troubled mind over to God. I thank him for sparing my life, Ray's, and innocent bystanders. However, my abstinence is short lived, I peel my lids back, and through teary eyes, I sneak a peek at the phone. Nothing from him. And as the water seeps out the corners of my eyes, I somehow drift off to sleep. But it is no respite, Luke and Christian follow me into my dreams.

Aroused out of a deep sleep I didn't realize had found me, I bolt upright and peer into three sets of eyes. One set burning me, they are so intense. "Christian!" I fling my body at him, and he catches me enveloping me in his arms like I might disappear.

Burying my face in his shoulder, I release pent-up frustration. "Baby, don't cry. I'm here." Cajoling me, he kisses the top of my head, rubs, and pats me on the back. "You feel so good. I died a thousand times," Christian whispers. I cling to him tighter, as his arms crush me to his body until theirs is no space between us.

Dr. Grace clears her throat, subtlety reminding us that we're not alone. Flinching I rip myself from his solicitous embrace. "Sorry," I mewl. Sheepishly I look from her to Ray, and suddenly I'm aware of my state of undress. Embarrassed, I tug the covers up to my neck.

Christian's station on the edge of the bed, impedes his mother, forcing her to awkwardly lean in around him to hug me. "You're good sweetie," she whispers. My arms block her from smothering me, but considering she manages a robust embrace. "I just wanted my turn."

"I heard that," Christian says, and when I open my eyes he has his hand on his mother's shoulder, nudging her back. "My turn."

"You mean again." Smirking, she releases me. "I'm only relenting because to do my job I'll have to get her back."

Wringing the blankets, I let my hands fall to my lap. "Wait. Her job…"

Dr. Grace is flustered. "I'm sorry, I spoke out of turn," she says, turning her repentant eyes on her son. "Christian, I apologize."

He strokes her arm. "It's okay mother," he says, gauging my further reaction. "Anastasia. I brought my mother with me so she can examine you. You refused to go to the hospital, so I brought the Dr. to you."

I glower at him. No matter how well intentioned, this is another example of his controlling ways. "There's a reason I didn't go to the doctor Christian. I didn't need to-"

"How the fuck do you know? You're not a doctor." Christian's belligerent response doesn't stun me, I'm used to his contentiousness, it's the timing of it that ambushes me. In front of my dad, his mother, and after my harrowing accident. It's one thing to imagine he's unfeeling, it's another thing entirely, witnessing it in the flesh stings.

His mother grabs his arm, admonishing him. She's firm, but tender; however, there's nothing genteel about Raymond Steele, he's ready to pounce. I have to throw him, a silent command with my eyes to get him to stand down.

"Son, you're lucky your mother is here." Dad's eyes narrow. "You'd be wise to listen to her. Watch how you talk to my daughter," Ray warns. He just couldn't let it go.

Christian runs his hand through his hair. "Sorry," he says, his eyes locking in on me.

"You should be apologizing to your mother for taking her from her home, driving her all the way from Seattle to Portland for nothing," I add.

"I didn't drive her; I flew her here in Charlie Tango."

I snort. "Of course, you did. Silly me."

"Okay. I'm going to take a stab at this one. Charlie Tango is either, a copter or an airplane," Ray chimes in.

He rattles off the fancy name, and then he says, "it's a helicopter." Christian was doing great, my dad was garnering some admiration for him, then he had to go ruin it with his arrogant correction.

Dad creeps up behind him and leans in close to his ear. "I don't care what fancy name you give it, on the battlefield we call it a copter," Ray mutters, and he steps back. I'm not sure how much of the statement is true, or it's him needling Christian.

"I stand corrected," Christian says. The response is measured in word and tone to appease my father, but Christian is not happy.

"He has an airplane too." My resentment is still fresh; I'm no longer acting as his surrogate. I give Ray one more tidbit to laud over him.

Ray smirks, Dr. Grace is nervous, unsure of what's unfolding in front of her. For his part, Christian glares at me. "What are you doing..." He touches my hand.

I shove his hand away. "What am I doing? Well, Christian, you should've asked that before you berated and then jettison me." I lash out at him, the residual anger I'm harboring won't let me hold back any longer.

The outburst dumbfounds Christian, and it is Ray this time around that is unsure, Dr. Grace is the sure-footed one. She takes charge. Clapping her hands together, she slides in next to her son. "Christian." She motions up with her hands, and he gradually rises. "Now, you and Ray skedaddle. Wait for me in the other room. Let me examine Ana. It will give everyone a chance to breathe." I'm in awe of her. She diffuses the bubbling tension with grace, and elegance. I wish I had that control. Not once did she have to raise her voice.

Neither men challenge her authority, they head for the door. "He's so mercurial," I whisper to her.

The corners of her mouth curves, and under her breath she mutters, "Don't I know." Taking a few steps, she stops at the end of the bed. "Try not to kill each other. I have a medical bag only, no surgery utensils." Over their shoulders, Christian and Dad throw their arms up at the same time. Dr. Grace and I burst out laughing.

The door closes. "Thank you," I say. "Think they'll be okay."

Her head bobs. "Yes. Your father and my son are grown, men. They played very well together when Christian and I arrived," she says sashaying back to the head of the bed, "I want to talk about you." Leaning in she smooths the hair off my face, her fingers skimming my jawline, cupping my chin, and she rotates my face to hers. "I know what's bothering my son, but sweetie what's troubling you?" Straightening her spine, she withdraws her hand. "And don't say the accident."

I fidget with my fingers. "I felt like he abandoned me."

She folds her arms in front of her chest. "Why would you think that?"

Like a sulky child, I half shrug my shoulders. "Until he showed up, I hadn't heard from him. I mean we spoke right after the accident. Then nothing. No texts. No calls to Reynolds. Noth-"

"Did you ever consider the why?" She unfolds her arms, letting them fall to her side. "Or did you automatically jump to the worse case?" Dr. Grace implores. "You surprise me, Ana, I thought you'd have more faith in him than that." She flicks her hands at me. "Scoot over. Time, for me to let you in on a little secret." Barely disturbing the mattress, with poise, and elegance Dr. Grace fits herself on the edge of the bed. "Christian would never share this with you, but I think you need to hear it. He didn't disappear, he didn't abandon you, Christian was too crippled by his own fear to get to you. Taylor called me, I had to drop everything and rush over to Escala. When I got there Christian was prostrate on the floor too immobile to function less more call you-"

"Why… he knew I wasn't hurt. We spoke, almost immediately."

"Again. Think. How did that come about?" Audibly, I gasp. "Yes. He was on the phone. He heard the entire horrific thing from beginning to end. And trust me he didn't experience it as the innocuous fender bender your father described. To him, he was an unwitting witness to your impending death-"

"No," I cry out." Dr. Grace slides her arm over my shoulders, pulling me to her, and I lay my head on her chest.

"He recounted for me your screams as blood curdling, the metal on metal ear piercing, and your subsequent silence, deafening."

"That's horrrrrible," I croak.

She angles her head. "Does he talk to you about his birthmother?" she mutters, using the extra napkin from my bedside table to dab my cheeks.

"Not very often, and when he does, it's usually in incendiary terms."

"I'm not surprised, it's his coping mechanism. Vilifying her. Which he has earned the right to do, she did irrevocable damage to him, and I'm not talking about the scars marring his chest." She pauses. "In a lot of ways you remind me of her, and I suspect he sees it too-" Abruptly, I lift my head interrupting her.

"Hmmm, I don't know how to take that."

She feathers the hair from my forehead. "It's not as bad as you think. Christian cared deeply for his birth mother, despite the inflammable speech. We found him in a similar state after her death," she says tucking hair behind my ears. "With that being said, Christian has never verbalized any of this to me, it's only my speculation, but I stand by it. And I'm not talking about the physical similarities, they're obvious. I'm referencing what loving you represent for him. The unconditional love he wanted from her that he gets from you."

"I don't know what to do with this newfound knowledge."

"Treasure it, with knowledge comes great power. You're the best thing to happen to him- with you he's learning to trust wholeheartedly, and love properly. Which also makes you the worse thing to happen to him. You expose his vulnerability. You."

I shrink back. "Me."

"You. You're the one person that has the power to destroy him. I suspect, the accident brought that humbling fact crashing down on him. Which brings me to the other thing you share in common with his birth mother. Like your near death, her actual death incapacitated him, so don't believe Christian when he says he hates her. It's the antithesis."

"It's not how he sees it."

"I know, but I was there. I was a keen observer, not a passive bystander. I saw how much he struggled with her death. You don't hurt that profoundly for that extended period of time for someone you hate. Yes, he despised her actions, and he wanted to hate her. But he couldn't, the best he could muster is resentment..." A smile creeps across her face, throwing me off.

"What."

Sighing, Dr. Grace reclines back on the headboard. "I'm sorry. All this talk provokes some fond memories. You think he's handsome now, you should have seen him as a toddler. He had you questioning your eyesight, you couldn't believe a human being so perfect existed. On the outside anyway. Christian's hair was blonder back then." Her eyes beam as if her reminiscing is triggering a tidbit she'd forgotten about him. "The color of his eyes were softer. They were more of a powdery blue than the steel gray they are today. I guess it makes sense, intense gray eyes would've have been too much for his 4-year-old self to bare. After all, he was already an old soul, he didn't need the added burden."

"Hearing you recall his past, I can almost see that little boy," I mutter.

"Yes, he was a sight, he was striking. Though he was self-contained even back then, there was a tenderness and a sweetness about Christian. When he smiled at me his little eyes crinkled, they captured a bit of my heart every time. I knew he was meant for me. If only I'd acted sooner, I could've saved him from that abysmal existence."

"You can't blame yourself."

"I don't, but the thought of what he endured is still fresh in my heart- it breaks it even to this day. Torture, prostitution, poverty - the idea of a kid growing up in any one of those environment is unconscionable. And to think he had to survive all three-"

"Whew. I wasn't prepared for this." I fan my eyes. "Comparably, my life was a fairytale," I sniffle.

"Sweetheart, there's no comparison, you both had horrendous upbringings." Angling her head, she rubs her thumb across my cheeks. "I want you to dry those tears. Christian wouldn't want your pity, and it wasn't my intent to drum up sympathy for him. So, when he walks through that door greet him with your head held high, and your heart open. He may look like a masterpiece, but God created him with all the fragility of a man. When he finally pulled himself together, Christian struck into action. And yes he overreacted bringing me here, but don't be so hard on him. When it's come to you, it's like he's on steroid." She scoops my hair over my shoulders. "I won't share anymore; I don't want to betray his confidence. He'll tell his story in his own time."

"Sometimes I wonder if we're so connected because we were so damaged."

"I'm not a psychologist, I'm simply his mother, and I 've seen the positive impact you're having on him. Over the years, Christian's growth has ebbed, and flowed, but one week with you, and he's a different young man."

"Thank you, I'm a little uncomfortable with that credit."

She cradles my face between her hands. "Sweetie. I have never seen my son so happy. It's you. Only you. You're the only difference in his life. "

"Coming from you, that's a high praise."

Dropping her hands, she holds my gaze. "Do me a favor."

"Anything."

"Evolve with him." Puzzled, I stare at her. "You may be virtuous, but you can't expect him to change, and you stay the same. He's willing to go all out for you, everything he does is just his outward expression of love. He wants to splurge on you, so what he can afford it. He wants to secure every inch of your body, let him- it's what he couldn't do for her."

"Forgive me, but it's a tall order, surrendering my free will to be with him?"

She squeezes my hand. "Indulge him. You're a smart girl." She comes to her feet. "You'll figure it out."

Giving me a quickie exam to pacify her son, Dr. Grace leaves the room to get him, but it's my dad who re-enters. "Where's Christian."

"With his mother. I asked him to give me a moment alone with you to say my goodbyes." He peeks behind him. "And I wanted to update you on my conversation with Luke- "

"Sssh." My finger to my lips, I sit forward.

Ray chuckles. "The young man can't hear. He's walking his mother outside."

"Still. Keep it down." I speak in a hushed tone, hoping he'll follow suit.

Smirking, dad sits on the bed next to me. "Good looking bastard."

"You say it like it's a bad thing. Is it another strike against him? I know you're checking the boxes."

"Nope, can't blame good genes on him."

I giggle. "How magnanimous of you."

Chuckling Dad taps the tip of my nose. "I can recognize when I'm at the losing end of a proposition. I don't stand a chance against that pretty face. There's no wonder you're so smitten."

"You do know there's more to him, than his looks."

"So I've heard. Luke spoke glowingly of your Christian. I'm not certain how much was out of loyalty, and how much was his true feelings either way the young man continues to impress me; he's willing to sacrifice his happiness for yours." Ray pauses. "With that in mind, I'm still not ready to get on board with what you two are doing."

"Ray, Luke is a great guy. There's only one fault I have with him- he's not Christian. I can't explain it. Luke gave me what I needed, but Christian gives me everything. He has the uncanny ability to sense what I need. What I want, when I don't even know it and give it to me …"

Dad snakes his arm behind my back. "I get it kiddo. Luke is safe, Christian is fire. Never mind me, I'm a stereotypical cranky old man grappling with the maturation of his little girl. I speak highly of Luke because he's demonstrated his love for you. It will take me a bit more time to warm up to Christian, but you don't have to justify anything to me, my only concern is your happiness. You deserve to be happy." He drags his arm back and angling his head he takes my chin betwixt his thumb and index finger. "But that doesn't mean you're entitled to it. You have to fight for it. They're a lot of people on this earth who deserve to be happy, but will never find it. They'll never find that special someone." His fingers fall away, and aloneness I haven't seen since before my mother left clouds his eyes.

"Are we still talking about me?"

The door creaks disturbing our silence, and Christian's head peeks through the crack. "Should I come back?"

A relieved Ray lurches to his feet. "No. Come on in son." Listing, Dad gives me kiss on the forehead. "Do what you have to do, I'll support you," he whispers.

"Thank you," I mouth.

Winking at me, he heads towards the door. Pausing in midstride Ray stops at Christian. "She's all sure." Glancing back at me, his lips twitch with amusement. "You hurt her, and you'll have to answer to me. And it won't be pretty."

Christian waits for the bedroom door to close completely and turning to me he wiggles his brows. "Your dad smiled at me." The corners of his mouth curve up meeting his eyes. "So. He threatened me," he says, shrugging his shoulders, "at least he did it with a smile."

I giggle. "Silly bunny, give him some time," I say as Christian continues to the bed, "Ray's overcompensating for not being there for me. This father-daughter relationship is new for the both of us."

Collapsing, Christian falls on his knees to the floor. "That's the sound I've been waiting for." Longingly he gazes up at me. "As for your father, there isn't that much time on earth. The man despises me, he growled at me."

"Stop."

"I'm not kidding. When we were out there, he growled. Literally growled. And when he wasn't growling he was grunting."

He lays his head on my lap, and I rake my fingers through his tousled hair. "This is new. He intimidates you, I've never seen you intimated by anyone."

His head lifts slightly. "He isn't just anyone, he's your father," he muses, "and I'm not intimidated because I'm afraid of him, I'm afraid of his influence on you. He's the one person that can take you away from me."

Moving my hand, I urge his face up. "You don't have to worry about that, I'm too glued to you for anyone to separate, and Ray will come to our side, as soon as, he processes the whole pregnancy debacle."

"Ohhh that little thing." Christian snorts. "If that's the measuring stick, I'm doomed. Plus, I didn't garner any favors with my outburst. He made sure I knew that."

Tugging on the hem of my camisole I drag it over my head tossing it in the air. I decide to take Dr. Grace's advice, use my intuition. Give him the intimacy required to quell the torment chomping at his insides. "I don't know about you, but I'm all talked out."

Drinking me in, Christian extends his neck latching on to a nipple, and clutching the back of his head I hold him there selfishly quenching my own craving for him. Knocking my hands away, in one smooth motion, Christian is on his feet removing his shirt. "Miss Steele you read my mind." Slipping off his shoes, he makes quick work of his trousers, and brief. The mattress ripples when kneeling on the bed he crawls closer to me, cupping me by the nape of my neck touching my forehead to his. "I love you, and if I needed any confirmation, today did it for me. You can't die. I wouldn't survive if you did."

Breaking his grip, I pull my head back. "Christian look at me." Our eyes unite. "I'm here. I didn't die…"

All of a sudden, I'm on my back, and pinioning my arms to my side, Christian hovers over me. "I. Have. Never. Been. So. Scared." His head sags, and freeing a hand I nudge his face up. His cheeks are drenched. The glistening in his eyes has turned them the cornflower blue Dr. Grace so adoringly recalled.

Liberating the other arm, I crush his body to mine. "I didn't die Christian." Whimpering, I repeat the refrain over and over. "I'm not even hurt." Under the weight of his body, I battle with my panties.

Catching my wrist, Christian barks, "no", and he rolls off me. "Get on your side. I just want to hold you." No questions asked I put my back to his front. His arm glides across me drawing me taunt to his flesh. "I need to feel the blood thrumming through your veins." I close my eyes, and absorbing his heat, I relive his anguish.

"Christian, I was scared too," I confess.

His body conforms to mine. "Baby, I got you," he murmurs. "I'm planning to stay tonight; I'll fly back first thing in the morning for my early morning meeting."

I tip my head back. "Christian, you could've called, face time, skyped if necessary. You didn't have to come all the way here. I know you're busy."

Twisting my shoulders, he flips me so I'm facing him. "Have you not heard a word I said. I had to be here to touch you- a screen wouldn't have sufficed. You don't get it; you're wreaking havoc with my mind Anastasia. My life used to be so mechanical; time marked by business deals, workout regiments, and other proclivities. Since you, these things have been relegated to mindless activities. My every second is filled with thoughts of you, and when I'm not thinking about you, I'm dreaming about you."

His eyes are no longer watery; the hue has intensified to the gray that is uniquely Christian's. "I feel the same way…"

He kisses me on the top of my forehead. "Luke is back tomorrow." The transition is sharp, sans a segue.

"I know one person who'll be happy- "

Christian cringes. "Please, don't say you."

I grimace. "No silly. Reynolds. After the day he's had, he'll be elated to get away from me."

"He isn't leaving he's staying on your detail."

"What." I raise up on my elbow. "Am I hearing you correctly. How does that even work Christian? Two security people."

"Simple. One will the lead, the other will follow. "

"That's extreme."

"Maybe. But I'm not taking any more risks with your safety."

_"If he needs to protect every inch of your body -let him, he couldn't protect his mother."_ Dr. Grace's words rattling around in my head, my fingers focus on the hair at his temples. "You do know you can't protect me from freak accidents, or life. The one thing the accident has proven- no matter how much money you have, how much close protection you provide, and how careful you are, bad things are going to happen. But if it's what you need, I'm okay with it."

Gently, Christian touches his lips to my lips, and effortlessly his tongue glides inside my mouth fluttering over mine. The kiss is sweet, passionate, and heartfelt. "I have no words," he mutters through the kissing.

"You don't need any," I murmur, and ill-timed my phone beeps.

Pulling back, Christians extend his hand rooting around for it. "It's probably your dad."

"It's a text. More than likely it's Kate checking up on me. Dad isn't home yet, and he would call not text."

"Then forget it." Tumbling to his side, he sprawls out next to me. "Before I forget, Mia and Elliot send their well wishes."

"That's sweet. Kate's with Elliot, you know."

Grunting, he covers his eyes with his forearm. "Don't remind me."

"Don't fret. Kate's adamant. It's just about sex," I say, running the tip of my fingers along the ridges on his abs.

He sits upright, bumping my finger out of the way. "I don't want to waste time talking about Kate, and Elliot. Hungry?"

"No. Ray got me soup."

"A nap?"

"Now, a nap I could use. The earlier one was restless."

Lounging back against the headboard, Christian extends his arm. "Put your head here." He gestures to his chest with his chin.

Wriggling, I curl up to his side and nestle my head on the anointed spot. "This is so much better than a pillow," I purr. Sighing, Christian tugs the cover up over me, and massaging my scalp he helps me fall asleep, and then I'm jarred awake by a loud buzzing.

"Here." Fumbling, I pluck the phone from his hand. "It's your dad. I was trying to answer it before it woke you up."

Groggily, I answer. "Dad."

"Hey, kiddo. Woke you up?"

"It's fine, I was waiting for your call," I say, and Christian climbs off the bed giving Ray and I some privacy. Our conversation is rather lengthy before he dismisses me to go back to sleep. Something about my body needing the rest to heal.

"How's your dad?"

"Good." Yawning, I stretch my arms, about my head. "Is that water I hear?"

"Yes. My mother advised, a hot bath filled with Epsom salt would ward off some of the soreness you may experience in the morning. Then I thought we'd have dinner, a picnic on the floor."

"Ah, that sounds perfect." Another yawn escapes me.

He chuckles. "Maybe more sleep is what you need, not a bath."

"No, a long hot soak in a tub is just the ticket."

"Wait I'll help you." Racing, Christian offers me his arm assisting me off the bed.

Knotting the sash on the robe, I swing the bathroom door open and gasp. The inside of my bedroom had been transformed from goods that could've been raided from the neighborhood Pier 1 Import. It was a scene befitting Arabian Nights. Vivid colors, foreign music, and aromatic smells engage my senses. My eyes pan the setting, and considering the condensed time no detail had been spared

Pillows in exotic colors like cayenne, paprika, saffron, and embellished with metallic, and rhinestones are strewn about the space, and lining a palette in the middle of the floor. Low lit lanterns and scented candles create even more ambience in the space. Eyeballing the new treasures, my eyes settle on Christian, the most cherished of them all. He's perched on the furry ivory palette in the same clothes he wore here. Though he retrieved them from the floor, on him they look freshly laundered, and as if he's striking a pose for the camera, his one leg is cocked, an arm resting vicariously on the knee with a single orange rose nuzzled inside his fist.

Dumbfounded, I stammer across the threshold. "How… when" I stutter. When I come to a halt in front of him, Christian hands me the fragrant flower and flitters with the loosely tied knot.

"I want it open." Staring up at me, he flicks the flaps of the silk robe to the side. Then an irreverent smile crosses his lip. "To answer your question, I have the means-"

"So, there's always a way." I finish the cocky motto for him. "Silly me. I had to ask." I say bringing the rose to my nose.

"And it doesn't hurt having Jason Taylor as your body man," Christian adds, giving Mr. Taylor his well-deserved credit.

I motion around the room with my head. "No, it doesn't," I confer, "this is amazing."

"I thought I'd spice up our picnic. Add some color to what has been a dreary day." Accepting his proffered hand, and with the hand holding the rose I hike up my robe carefully easing myself to the rug.

Arranging me how he wants, Christian starts with the parade of delectable offerings catered by the Heathman. Our dinner conversation is light; we mainly talk about travel. The places he's traveled, the places I haven't, and the places he plans to travel to with me. We made a conscious effort to stay away from accidents, death and dying.

A fair amount of each dish devoured, Christian concedes defeat, and places the tray with the leftovers outside my bedroom door, for Mr. Taylor to retrieve. And when he's on his way back to me, he begins disrobing. By the time his toes sink into the border of the lush furry blanket Christian is gloriously naked, and dropping to his knees he encircles his expansive hand around the base of my neck. His eyes heavy-lidded with want, he tips my head back running his tongue along the exposed column of my neck.

"Ah," I moan, and pushing the robe off my shoulders, and down my arms, Christian nibbles, and sucks my aroused skin.

"I need you naked." He removes his hand, and my head lobs forward. "I want to see you. Your silky soft skin." Tugging on the hem of the sleeves, he drags the robe all the way off tossing the voluminous fabric over his shoulder.

"It's probably still shriveled I soaked so long."

Worshipping me with his eyes, Christian smooths his hands all over my chest, up, and down my mounds. "No. Your skin is perfectly flawless," he mutters and pitching me backwards he crawls on top of me. His fingers dance down my stomach to my pubic area, where he plunges one of the long digits inside me.

"Oh," I moan.

Christian leans down so his mouth is touching the shell of my ear. "Like that baby," he breathes, another finger dipping inside my core.

I tilt my head back into the pillow. "Yesss." I hiss on a groan.

His fingers tunnel deeper into my swollen flesh stoking the thousands of small fires. "You're mine Anastasia?" he grunts. Withdrawing his fingers, Christian circles my clit.

My back bows. "Christian pleeeease," I cry out. Seeking out his fingers, I plead for more pressure.

Sitting back on his hind legs, he shakes his finger taunting me. "Tsk, tsk, tsk." He sticks his fingers in his mouth, and I can't resist zoning in on his chest. His mother's poignant words, flooding uninvited into my head. "Anastasia," Christian snaps, "why are you staring, it's as if you're seeing them for the first time."

Utilizing my abdomen muscles, I sit up and faintly rub the tip of my fingers over one of the tiny circles. "They're beautiful Christian." He eyes me warily. "They symbolize your strength. Samson had his hair. This is where your power lies."

He grips my wrist, and silently staring at me he lowers my hand to his rock hard cock. Under his steady guidance, I fist the root bringing a bead of pre-cum to the tip. Christian removes his hand, and I bend my head down running the tip of my tongue over the slit lapping up every drop.

"Shit, Anastasia."

Peeking up through my lashes, his pleasure excites me to draw him to the back of my throat. Hollowing out my jaws I suck ferociously, and fervently. Soon he is spewing his cum into my mouth. Swallowing all of it, I stare up at Christian. "Feel better Mr. Grey."

Panting, Christian pushes me to my back, smothers me with is body, and cradling my head in his arms he plunges his tongue into my mouth. He kisses me with an ardor that is feeding his desperate need for me more than his desirous want to have me. Extracting his tongue, wistfully Christian gazes into my eyes. "It is you that is my strength. You…are my source of power. I'm here because of you." Pressing down on one arm, he reaches back and grabbing his erection Christian eases into me. Flexing is hips, he drives the thick corded pulsating member further into my core. "Now, I feel better," he grunts in my ear, as he bears down on his elbows burying his cock at the depth of my vagina.

"Christian…" I plead, my fingers digging into the flesh of his shoulder, my hips rising up to meet his thrust. His breathing becomes more and more ragged, as the intensity of his strokes increases. Then he slows.

"I don't want to come," he growls. I try to fix my pupils on him as he grinds down into me with short, slow strokes, but I'm already in the throes. "I love you, Anastasia."

His mouth covers mine, our heads twist from side to side as we savor the reverberation, and sensation of our pounding hearts beating as one. Bearing down on me, Christian enshrouds his face in my hair and starts humming.

On the first note, my walls stop clenching. "Angel." I hang on to a lock of his hair. "You're humming Angel."

Lifting his head, his lips brush my cheeks, kissing the tears away. "Yes. During the accident, for just a moment, a second maybe, there was a lull in the action, and the song popped into my head. In my malaise, I started singing some version of it, and it's been stuck in my head ever since." He rubs the tip of his nose against mine. "I know it's your favorite song, I wanted to make you happy not cry."

"I love you, Christian Grey."

"I love you too, Anastasia Rose Steele," he mutters. He starts moving again and soon under a chorus of grunts, groans, and pleas we come. "Fuck me."

* * *

Ryan POV

"Hello."

"Fuck man, what a plum assignment. No wonder you accepted Grey's offer."

"Ryan what are you going on about."

"Guarding Miss Steele shit the girl is sexier than I thought. Her ass in her jeans. Damn-"

"Let me stop you there, you do know you're objectifying Christian Grey's girlfriend."

"Yeah, yeah she's hot, but I know she's not available. I'm talking about the girls on campus. Have you gotten into any of those panties?"

"Yesterday was my first day, and today is your first day so chillax. Pace yourself."

"I don't have a lot of time; my window is closing so I'll need to strike while the iron is hot."

"Can I give you a piece of advice."

"Like I could stop you."

"Focus on your job, not Ana's ass."


	47. Chapter 47: Dance With My Father

**Chapter 47:** Dance With My Father

**Disclaimer-** FSOG belongs to EL James

**A/N **Thank you for reading, reviewing, and following- Enjoy

"Here. I got you some tea," Christian boasts as if he's accomplished some monumental feat.

I lift my head from the bed, resting my chin on my folded arms. "Thank you. Set it down, I'll get it later," I say softly, as I fix my eyes on the only VIP patient in this entire hospital, my dad.

Gingerly, Christian touches me on the shoulder. "Baby, you've been in the same position practically all night. With almost certainty, I'm sure your neck, and arms are tired. So, if you're not going to eat you have to drink something if for no other reason than to give them a break." Kneading my shoulder, he smoothly slides his hand down my spine and settling at my lower back he tries to urge me up. "Go, sit over there. Relax a moment, drink your tea, and I'll sit guard over Ray."

Rotating my chin, I stare up at Christian in disbelief. "How can I relax when my father is in a coma?" Sniffling, I drop my gaze and return it to the strong man who's lying helpless in a hospital bed too small to contain his body, and his spirit. "He's all I got."

"You have me, Anastasia."

Sobbing, I collapse my head back down on the bed and reach for Ray's rugged hand. But it's like the rest of him, lacking vitality. The grip is nonexistent. I'm left to do all the work; I squeeze hard. "I want my daddy."

There's something fundamentally wrong with me- I'm jealous. I view Anastasia's compassionate plea as a slight on me, but I dig deep and tap into some redeemable human emotion. Corralling the envy, I humble myself. Depositing the cup of hot water on the table at the end of the bed, I lay the tea bag on top and kneel down on one knee before her offering her my unwavering support. "Baby, your father will be fine. The doctors are confident he will recover. My mother has seen his charts, and she shares their optimism. If she didn't, I would have her here, personally overseeing his case. Before you know it, your father will be back to you," I say rubbing my hand up, and down her back.

Agitated, I feverishly rotate my forehead against my arms. "It's my fault. I should've insisted that he get checked out. He was so worried about me he was inattentive to his own health," I mumble. Peeking up at Ray, I'm reminded of his strength, resilience, and bravery and pray that these admiral traits will serve him in his time of need. Notwithstanding his supposed indestructibility the cold, sterile environment is lending more credence to the grim outlook haunting me, than the rosy picture everyone else is painting.

Anastasia unveils her face. The tears streaking her cheeks are like tiny daggers stabbing me in my heart. "Yes, like his daughter Ray has a hard head. You may not be blood, but you have that in common." Peering through lashes clumped together by tears, she glowers at me. Her eyes may be watery, but the disdain behind them is undeniable, the wavy glass into her deepest thoughts substantiates this truth. "That's my girl. I'd rather see you angry, than inconsolable," I mutter as I move matted hair from her water-logged face.

"Um-" she garbles, unable to speak through the blubbering.

"That's it." I leap to my feet, and snaking my arms under her I forcibly remove Anastasia from the unforgiving armchair carrying her to the more suitable lounge seat I had delivered just for her, and will donate to the hospital at the end of her father's stay.

"Christian!"

Disregarding her protest, I sit Anastasia down and immediately go to her feet. "I've given in all I'm going to." I toss the one converse to the floor and start untying the other. "I will not relent on your health. Your father wouldn't want me to. You're not eating, you're not sleeping, and you're running on fumes. Enough is enough." I let the shoe I'm holding fall to the floor, and leaning in I wriggle my arms under her shoulder blades scooping her up in an intense embrace consoling her. "I love you, and as much as, I care about your father's well-being, you're my utmost concern. I need you to be okay." I incline back some. "Will you sit here for me?"

She nods her head. "Yes."

"What about having your tea?"

"Yes."

I press my luck. ''What about eating?" I say, and my stick-to-itiveness is rewarded. Anastasia agrees to that too. "Great, I'll have Taylor pick something up. It won't be Gail's home cooking, but we found a nice café not too far from the hospital."

Pleased that he'd won some conciliations, Christian disentangles from me and plucks the box of Kleenex from the table. Pulling out a few tissues he dabs my eyes, cheeks, and under my chin. I'd partly agreed to all Christian's requests to humor him, honor my dad, and keep up my strength. He's right I'm no good to Ray if I'm not healthy.

As the doctors predicted, 48 hours after the head injury that had sidelined him Ray wakes up. The doctors surmise that he struck his head in the accident. The likely incident was so insignificant it didn't raise suspicion, but it was serious enough to cause a subdural hematoma. Luckily, Ray was with his buddies on a fishing trip when he passed out, and not at home alone. So, he was able to receive medical attention in ample time; thus, mitigating the chances of any long term side effects.

Dad was released into my care, which meant I had to rearrange my school, and work schedules. I happily took time off from both. For varying reasons Christian nor Ray were pleased with my decision. One voiced eloquently why he felt guilty about me sacrificing for him, the other didn't see it as a sacrifice at all, and whined mightily on why it was an abomination to him. However, through some gentle coaxing, I got them on board and even persuaded Christian to let me care for Ray instead of sending him to some high falutin rehabilitation center. My dad's recovery was on me, not another sterile environment filled with impersonal touches. Convalescing at home proved to be the right decision for Ray, his recuperation was well ahead of the 6 weeks the Doctors had predicted. That is why I am here going through mounds of mail, in lieu of doting over him.

"Having fun yet?"

I hold the envelope stamped with Harvard in front of my eyes. "Oh yeah."

Kate pulls out the chair at the desk and sits. "Almost done?"

"Yea, just need to fill out some paperwork for my housing." I toss the unopened mail back on the pile. It's not like I'm clairvoyant, I got a letter advising me to expect a letter. Harvard may be progressive, but it is not beholding to the **Reduce **portion of the three Rs' of recycling.

"It's getting close huh. With two degrees, I can't believe you'd want more schooling. I'm so done."

I giggle. "I don't know, I always liked learning, it was the one part of my life I could control. But I'll confess, I am looking forward to the change of venue."

"Me too. Elliot has volunteered to help get me situated in Seattle." She rolls the chair closer to me. "And it's going to be so great having you there for the summer," Kate says wrapping her arms around my thighs clinging to me. "I know it's not because of me, but thank you."

"Thank you, for what?"

"Moving to Seattle." Sighing, I unwrap her arms, and Kate tilts her head up scrutinizing my face.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just a bit apprehensive about the decision to move to Seattle?"

Paddling her feet on the floor, Kate sends the chair sailing backward. "Why?", she says pumping her brakes.

I shrug my shoulders. "Everything with Ray, the accident, have me rethinking my life. I've lost sight of who I am. I've never been perfect unless perfectly flawed is an option, but I used to be comfortable with me, but now I don't recognize who **me** is."

"Why?"

"That's the million-dollar question. It's why I want my life back?"

"Who has it?" I cock my head to the side. "I'm serious. You wax lyrically about losing your identity as if there was a home invasion and the intruders plundered through your drawers stealing it," Kate quips.

"Your analogy works, except I'm the culprit, and I gave it away. I relinquished so much of me to Christian, I'm his creation, and no longer the Holy Father's."

"Ana you drive me bonkers. Considering all you've suffered, you have a simplistic view of life indifferent to all its nuances. Life like people is made up of many shadings. None more than Christian Grey. He's complicated, a tragic figure if ever I've seen one. He's in the image of my father so I know something about powerful men with shortcomings. They don't want a mealy mouth woman. They're no different, then the rest of the men who've bought into society's distorted view of the perfect woman. The one who's a devil in the bedroom, an angel in the kitchen, and now a badass in the boardroom. And dare I say, you actually embody all these qualities."

Rooting through the mail, I accept her ridiculous compliment- backhanded that it is. "Say you're right…." My voice trails as I procure the phone that has been pinging feverishly, and my eyes, drop to the group of text message lighting up the screen.

**What going on w/therapy sess- Lulu**

**Never mind c u graduation we talk then- Lulu**

**Set aside a day 4 me- Lulu**

**Oh yea luv u- Lu**

Kate stands up. "Christian," she inquires, "it's no wonder you're batty. I'd be crazy too if someone checked up on me like that. Bit obsessive. Doesn't he have meetings to attend?"

Jamming the phone inside my front pocket, I allow her assertion to stand. Under the circumstances, there isn't the wherewithal to defend Lulu to her. "What was I saying?" Kate waves me off and grabs my hand leading me to the sofa.

"Sit."

I plop down. "Yes, ma'am."

"Come out with Elliot, Ethan, and me. Elliot is in town talking with investors, and, Ethan is here chillaxing."

I hustle to the edge of the sofa. "I don't know Kate." Anticipating an escape, Kate takes a pre-empted strike, and clutching my shoulders she anchors me to the sofa.

"Before you object, listen. With the accident, Ray's hospitalization, and your sudden meltdown, a night out is just the ticket." Removing her stands, she straightens up.

I blow out a puff of air. "What did you have in mind?"

"Something casual. You can even go as you are. Grab a bite to eat, and go dancing. Say yes," she begs, "this might be the last time we get to hang out together before graduating."

"I don't know; Christian is going to be livid." Getting up, I come to her height, reclaiming some advantage.

"Don't ask him. You want to assert your independence, here's your chance. Christian is out of town; you have his paid guard dog so what's the problem. Besides, he doesn't have to know; after all, you're his girlfriend not his wife."

If it were only that simple, I think to myself, but out loud I tell her, "let me think about it." She kicks off her flats, forcing me to jump to the side. "Kate."

"Know my motto, ask for forgiveness, not permission." Scampering across the floor, she peeks over her shoulder. "You should try it."

Rolling my eyes at her, I wheedle my fingers inside my pocket lugging the phone out and contemplate reaching out to Christian. He's been so accommodating of late. Backing off on the harebrained two CPO concept. Capitulating on the idea of no security in the house while I cared for Ray. And the most unbelievable of all, giving me the space to be a proper caregiver to him. Not once did Christian visit, after Ray was released from the hospital. So, I don't want to reward his good faith effort, with more of the same-my constant rebellion.

* * *

"Let. Me. Have. That." Screeching, I tilt my head back, bargaining with Kate. Catching me off guard is the only way she could've absconded with my phone. "Anastasia Rose Steele you're supposed to be having fun." Chiding me, she slides into the booth facing me.

"I am," I scream over the thumping beat.

Carelessly holding the phone in the air, Kate cocks her head to the side. "Right."

Folding my body across the table, I snatch the phone out of her hand. "I was simply checking to see if I'd missed any calls," I say lowering my tush back to the bench.

"You're hopeless. By any calls, you mean his calls." Kate rests her elbows on the lip of the table. "Here's a suggestion- don't want to be seen as needy, don't be needy."

I stick my tongue out at her. "Hey, hey what am I interrupting." Elliot guffaws.

Blushing, I retract my tongue. "Nothing, just being silly," I say.

Smirking, Kate lists to the side taking one of the glasses of wine out of Elliot's hands. "Your wanna be sister in law-"

I slap the table. "Kate."

She takes a sip of her wine. "As I was saying, Ana is sitting here pining over your brother." Pleased with her appraisal of the situation, she hustles over making room for Elliot.

"Can't we all just get along," Elliot teases, "I thought the whole idea of tonight was merriment. Instead, you're acting like Luke. I saw him at the bar, and he looks like his best friend abducted his favorite pet."

Kate directs her suspicious gaze at me. "I wonder what that's all about."

Feigning sincerity for dogged curiosity, her innocence pulls the wool over Elliot's eyes, but I'm on to her. She's fishing for information, but I'm not discussing it with her. In front of Elliot is a non-starter, not to mention I'm not anxious to share the complete reversal I've made. She wouldn't let me live it down, but it was necessary if I'm to preserve my sanity. I determined that a first step in regaining control of my life is suffusing some truth back into it. So, I asked Luke to resign his position and refrain from contacting me, for a while anyway. Dr. Grace was right; I can't ask Christin to do what I'm not willing to do myself. While I'm not keen on disclosing the totality of my lies, I view this as a good first start. My come to Jesus moment was well ahead of Luke's, he's not yet ready to claim defeat; hence, the sully attitude penetrating his otherwise, stoic demeanor.

"Elliot, have you heard from Christian?" I use the non-sequitur as a diversion tactic to get out of responding to Kate.

"Yeah, we talked yesterday a matter of fact. Why?" Staring at me, he takes a draw from his wine glass. "What. Having separation anxieties," he jokes.

"No-"

Kate can't resist she has to chime in. "Yes, she is."

"I'm not. Just checking. I haven't heard from Christian since earlier today."

Elliot lowers the glass. "I wouldn't worry about it," he says, "take it as a sign to have fun-"

Ethan sneaks up behind Elliot slapping him on the shoulder cutting him off. "Why am I the only one dancing?" Brushing his sweat infused hair from his forehead, Ethan scans each of our faces.

Elliot furrows his brows at me. "You could've warned me." Relaxing his face, he angles his head back at Ethan. "Man, I almost spilled my wine." Reaching in front of him, Ethan plucks the glass out of his hand. "Hey, Hey."

Laughing at her brother's shenanigans, Kate points her finger at me. "We were dancing, we're taking a break, that's the one you should be asking."

Cozying up to me, Ethan nudges my arm. "What gives?"

I push my water bottle in front of him. "Here. This is better for you. You're sweating like crazy."

Taking a big gulp of wine, Ethan slams Elliot's empty glass down and grabbing my hand he hauls me out the booth. "Come on let's do what we came here for."

Elliot gives his sister the same treatment and sidling up to me Kate whispers in my ear. "You're not off the hook with this Luke thing girlie." Thankfully, Elliot yanks her arm leading her past Ethan and me.

Ethan and I take advantage of the seam they created by jostling through the crowd. Finding a patch on the floor not too far from them, we stop, and inexplicably Ethan leans into me. "Wanna take that off?" Shrinking back, I stare blankly at him. "I mean the sweatshirt." With a wink and a nod, he clarifies.

"Oh." Unwrapping my hand from his, I cram the phone back inside the front pocket of my jeans and slip the heavy weight fabric over my head. "Woo thanks, that feels so much better," I say tying the sleeves in a knot around my waist.

Ethan hooks his arm around me. "Stop looking at my sister, and pay attention to me."

Clutching his forearm, I balance myself. Ethan has muscles hidden under the damp shirt they're simply not the bulging biceps I've become accustomed to; they're more elongated. He has long favored yoga, and Pilate's over the more male preferred bench presses, and curls. "Sorry," I giggle.

He pins me to his chest. "No, I'm sorry. I'm the one that missed the event of the year. I understand that your party was quite the production. Kanye, Jayzee, Bruno Mars, Eminem, it must be nice being a Gazillionaire's girlfriend. How did that happen? You, and Christian Grey."

I entwine my fingers with his, and we start moving in place to Elliott Gould's "Burn". It's not a particularly slow song, the closeness is an excuse for us to carry on a conversation in the loudness. "It's a long story, and I'll tell it to you one day. Just not here."

His free hand swarms down my back, cupping my butt pressing me to him. If it were anyone else, I'd be offended, but it's Ethan- Kate's brother, and one of my longest and dearest friends. "I'm keeping you to that." Whispering in my ears, he squeezes me under the curve of my bum. "So, I guess this means you're not a virgin anymore. "

Squirming, I press back and thump him on his upper chest. "Will you stop."

Laughing heartily, his hand falls away, and he relocates it to a more P.C. spot on my back. "Just thinking I missed my chance. Here I was waiting until you were a little older, " he says, and two things happen at the same time. I lock eyes with Luke, who's glaring menacingly at me from the bar, and the DJ switches to a more erotic beat.

Enticed by a childish desire to spite Luke, and make him jealous I wrap my arms around Ethan's neck, and standing on my tippy toes, I murmur in his ears. "Want to have some fun?"

Ethan crushes me to him. "What did you have in mind?"

"Some dirty dancing."

"Hell yea. Nobody puts baby in a corner."

Inclining back, I roll my eyes at him. "You're so cheesy."

Splaying his hand at the small of my back, Ethan presses me into his groin. "Don't shoot the messenger, I didn't write it, I simply reserve the right to use it to make you smile."

The corners of my mouth lift. "Well, it worked," I fawn, but Ethan's growing erection threatens to transition our playful flirting into something more tawdry. "Ethan Kavanagh do you have a hard on?"

"Yep, what are you going to do about it." I've played this game with Ethan many times so I know his innuendo is in jest, but I take it as a challenge. Not one from him, but one to Luke. I reckon that tonight marks an end to my frolicsome era, because when Christian gets wind, he won't let me out of his sight. Plus, soon, I won't have Luke to use as a buffer.

I gander another peek at the bar, to confirm his eyes are still captivated by me, and I start grinding my jean clad vagina down on Ethan's bulging erection. "How's that?"

"Damn Ana. Baby girl is a woman now." Untwining my limbs from his neck, I do a backbend in his arms, and suggestively he sways me, causing my dangling pigtail to swing from side to side. Then gradually he pulls me upright, wedging his leg betwixt mine, and we undulate to the blaring music that's suffocating my discontent.

Abandoning my inhibitions, I get lost in my head no longer dancing for Luke, for Christian, or Ethan for that matter it's for my benefit only. Closing my eyes tightly, I let the sensual beat permeate my body, and embracing my newfound liberation I really start oscillating. Then suddenly I'm forcefully wrestled from Ethan's arms. A flashback to the accident occurs, and then opening my eyes I get the first glimpse of gray eyes infused with fury. "Christian!" In one motion he thrusts me behind him and raises his fist in the air.

My mind is so fractured, I'm detached from reality, it is a good thing Elliot, Luke, and Taylor descends upon us, I'm rendered useless. "Hey man, that's Kate's brother," Elliot screams, as the army intervenes in time to prevent Christian's fist from making contact with any part of Ethan's person.

Kate slithers in the middle of the melee. "What are you doing asshole?" Yelling to the tip of her tongue, she thrusts her arms out shielding her brother from the most unlikely of thugs - a businessman in a bespoke suit, crisp white shirt opened at the neck, sans tie.

"I don't give a damn who he is," Christian barks, and averting his fiery gaze from Ethan, he pinpoints Luke. "And where the hell were you. I should fire you now." Luke's entrenched in professional mode, he doesn't flinch.

Gripping Christian's shoulders, Mr. Taylor pivots him forward. "Sir you're causing a scene. The crowd is gathering, let's get you and Miss Steele the hell out of here."

Our posse takes a step, and two bruising bouncers approach. Folding their arms in front of their burly chests they obstruct our passage. "What's going on here folks?" The younger one says.

"Nothing, we're leaving," Mr. Taylor calmly advises.

"Now you show up. Where were you assholes when a young woman was being attacked in your well-secured establishment?" Initially, they are clearly perplexed by Christian's sarcastic rant, then their expressions become guilt-ridden, and they step aside. Their odd behavior leads me to believe that sexual assault in the bar is as prevalent as it is on campus. They tipped their hands by reacting guiltily to an accusation that wasn't quantified. None of this should come as a surprise to me, after all, it is a college bar.

Whatever the reason for the men backing down, Mr. Taylor takes it as a gift hurriedly ushering us away from the skirmish. Every harried footstep he makes; Christian crushes my hand depriving it of circulation. "Christian you're hurting me." Whimpering, I stumble along in his wake.

Christian's head snaps back, and his eyes latch onto me, they are impervious to my whining. "I don't want to hear a fucking word from your god damn mouth, Anastasia." He says my name with such hatred it slices through the buzzing in the crowd. Due to the commotion, the DJ cut the music, allowing for the chorus of whispers to swell to a thunderous level. Humiliated, I endure the interminable path of shame by distancing myself from the chatter.

At the halfway point, I chance a peek over my shoulder at Luke. He's giving me an I- told- you so grimace, but true to his softness towards me it is laced with a hint of sympathy. "Hang in there," his lips read.

By the time we make it to the SUV, Mr. Taylor has the back door open, and thankfully Christian is forced to let go of my hand. "Get in," he orders. Unfettered, I attempt to massage out the numbness, but Christian isn't having it. "Get in the mother fucking car Anastasia."

Scrambling to get inside the barren car, I grapple with healing a hurt that has gone beyond the superficial- it is skin deep. But afraid to exhibit the emotional toll his action has taken on me, I don't pause in the center of the seat to fuse the fissions in my soul, I clamber to hug the door on the other side; all the while Mr. Taylor, Luke, and Christian converse. The conversation ends, Christian climbs in the back with me, Mr. Taylor, and Luke return to the bar. Escaping his indignation, I face away from him, and in the process, I eye Kate and Elliot nearing the car so I lower the window.

Kate pokes her head inside, glares at Christian but addresses me. "Ana, are you okay?"

Christian, lurches forward, his eyes dart to Kate. "Get away from the window Katherine, this has your name written all over it," he growls.

"I'm not talking to you asshole," Kate shrieks, "and I should press charges against you for harassing my brother, or better yet, get you where it's hurt- your bloody pockets."

"Elliot you have three seconds to get her the hell away from here, or I will, and it won't be pretty," Christian declares.

Grasping Kate's shoulders Elliot manipulates her so she's not in his brother's direct fire and replaces his head with hers in the window. "Chill man. You're acting like a world class moron."

"Elliot, you're trying my patience," Christian booms.

To tamp down the escalation, I angle my head, and gripping the ledge of the window, I search out Kate's eyes. "Go. I got this. I'm good." My voice cracks, as I work to contain my emotions.

In a show of solidarity, Kate lays her hand on mine. "Are you sure?" Confirming the sentiment, I nod my head.

Elliot doesn't exchange another word with his brother, shaking his head he drapes his jacket over Kate's shoulders escorting her from the car. I press the button on the door panel sending the window up, and Christian falls back against the seat. In silence, we wait for Mr. Taylor which fortunately is no longer than about 20 minutes or so.

Surveying the front, I lock eyes with Mr. Taylor in the rearview mirror. His facial expression is more guarded than Luke's, but his eyes are sending me a clue I just can't decipher if it is anger or amusement. "Sir, everything is taken care of, Luke is tightening up loose ends, and will meet us back at the hotel," Christian grunts his approval, and the vehicle starts rolling.

The SUV eases us out of the bright light of the street lamps plunging us into darkness. With the silence, the lack of light adds a foreboding quality to the interior. It's even chillier than the exterior. Unknotting my sweatshirt, I slip into it and untucking my ponytail from the inside my hand hovers as I consider reaching across the expansive seat and skimming Christian's. I want to apologize too, but I'm just as rooted in my stubbornness as he, and I stay mum. And I keep my hand to myself. Yes, the blame is squarely on me, but I didn't deserve to be embarrassed in public, and in front of my friends. As much as, I need to learn a lesson from this preventable episode, he needs to be taught one. Peering out the window, I get enamored with the scenery, plotting just how I'm going to snatch the moral high ground from him, and become the teacher.

Swerving into the driveway, Mr. Taylor brings the SUV to a stop in front of the Heathman, instead of the private space in the back. He opens the back door, and Christian stretches his hand scooping up mine dragging me along the seat. We pour out, and soon as my feet hit the ground, my head bows concealing my shame as I let Christian parade me through the crowded lobby. And as if it was timed, the elevator doors slide open when we approach. Mr. Taylor traipses in with us, but we separate when we reach the presidential floor.

The lock on the door clicks, Christian jerks on the knob, and yanking on my hand he lugs me over the threshold. Slamming the door, he nails my back to it. "What the hell was that?"

"Nothing. That's what I was trying to tell you."

"Nothing. You grinding down on some other man is noth-"

"Ethan isn't some man, he's Kate's brother. A dear friend."

Christian cranes his neck, and my head lolls to the side preparing for the bombastic yelling. "That's your defense? Tell me if the situation was flipped, and you walked in on me with Sam. Would you be okay?"

Splaying my hands against the back of the door, I face forward. "Christian that's an unfair comparison, the two are not close to the same. You and Sam have a very different past than Ethan and me. I've never slept with Ethan."

"Maybe you want to sleep with him. Is that it, Anastasia you want him in your pants?"

"That's silly Christian. If I wanted to sleep with Ethan, I had ample opportunity. After a few tumultuous weeks, I was simply out having fun." Panting, I hold his icy gaze. "And what are you doing here anyway, you're supposed to be in New York?"

Pushing off the door he runs a hand through his hair. "Sorry for intruding on your plans, I wanted to surprise you, but yet again I'm the one surprised. Tell me, Anastasia, how was this going to play out. You said you had ample opportunity, perhaps this was the one time you were finally going to take advantage of the opportunity. Get heated on the dance floor, and take it somewhere else. The same dark corner of the bar. If this is how you acted with the young Mr. Jose Rodriguez no wonder, he -"

Christian's face snaps to the side. The cracking sound reverberates in my palm, and the warmth like the pang of pain starts in my hand and radiates up my arm. Curling and uncurling my fingers, I glare at Christian. He's prodding his jaw with his tongue, no doubt examining the extent of my ambush. "Fuck you Christian!" His interferences were insufferable, sexist, and disparaging, provoking me to cross the line to violence; in order, to end his vitriolic attack. Cupping his chin, Christian rotates his face forward. My hand print is evident, and decoding his expression I determine any stinging is outweighed by the shock. Scrubbing his hand over his jaw, Christian scowls at me, but I stand my ground. "How dare you insinuate that I deserved what I got. Congratulations, you've done what they failed to do- savagely violate me. I don't care how angry you get, or I make you, you don't get to belittle me at your whim. No more." Shoving him hard on the chest, I blow past him.

Frantically, Christian streams my name. "Anastasia."

Breaking my stride, I wheel around. The outward fear gripping Christian is not enough to diffuse my rage, hurt, and disillusionment. "Oh and Christian since I've fucked you, I've earned the right to use the word, and I'm more than woman enough. So, just in case you think you heard wrong, let me repeat. FUCK. You." Racing to a bedroom that is not his I close the door locking it.

Pounding, shouting, and jiggling the handle Christian tries in vain to gain entry. "Anastasia open the door. We need to talk." Sliding down the back of the door, I sink to the floor in a fit of tears as Christians begs, pleads, and whines, but never says I'm sorry. He's again put his emotional distress above mind.

Finally, he gives up, and hauling myself up, I get undress, get in the shower, and weep. I feel dirtier than, I have in a very long time. Standing under the huge shower head, the water rains down on me, as the word of Sandra Day fills my head. From my mother's boyfriends to Christian, and every man in between I've wilted under their presence, now it's my time to rise up. Unafraid, but still hurting, I decide to stop hiding from everyone including myself. Stepping out of the shower, I dry off and wrap up in one of the fluffy white robes hanging in the closet. Pulling the twister from my I hair, I free it and rake my fingers through the damp tresses.

Ending the self-imposed exile, I unlock then open the door prepared for an epic battle, but instead I'm greeted with the rich texture of a piano. Curious, I tiptoe and bracing my elbows on the half wall I peek my head around the corner. Christian is perched behind the baby grand, he's shirtless, and immersed in the private recital. The natural light filtering through the window from the big round moon behind his head is casting an ethereal glow over his stately silhouette. The stunning visual is the idea homage to his perfection, and proof that he is a god among men. Secretively stashed away behind the door I become mesmerized by the sight of him and enthralled by the haunting music he's producing. I'm not immediately familiar with the piece but smartly recognize that the tone is too soulful to be an iconic selection from one of the masters he's partial to playing. Regardless, the musical interlude is inviting me to join him, so guided by my heart I reveal my presence and follow the light of the moon.

Closing the distance between us, swooning I rest my forearms on the piano. "That's beautiful."

With his fingers, deftly tickling the keys, Christian gazes up at me. "Get on top." Pointing, he gestures to the surface of the inky black instrument with his chin.

Somehow, I manage the awkward climb with grace, and propping myself on the ledge, I support my feet on his trouser cloaked thighs. "Do you only play sad songs?"

Gazing dreamily at me, Christian begins to croon. "Trouble, trouble, trouble been doggin' my soul since the day I was born." I will never get used to how pure, and crisp his singing voice is.

I rub the pads of my big toes along his thighs. " 'Angel,' will always be our song because it was the first, but in this recent incarnation of us, 'Bless the Broken Road,' by Rascal Flatts has emerged as a more appropriate representation of our relationship- the perfect song to honor our love. Do you know it?"

Bearing down on the keys, Christian bobbles his head. "I don't think so."

"_Every long lost dream led me to where you are. Others were like Northern stars, pointing me to your loving arm_." I recite the chorus for him, I don't dare try singing it. I don't want to ruin the moment.

With one hand Christian continues manipulating the keys, using the other he tugs on my legs. "I've been saved by a woman," he continuously sings, as he drags me down the front of the piano cross the keys to his lap.

Straddling him, I throw my arms up, circling his neck. "Is there anything you can't do?"

Letting silence envelope, us, Christian wipes away the trickle of water from my cheeks, and he grips my waist. "Not make you cry. Not make you sad. It's endless when it comes to you, the things I can't seem to get right. As much as, I love you I have a knack for doing, and saying the wrong things. I am so sorry. I was out of line. My words were malicious, and in no way reflective of how I feel. You're right, trying to make you own my anger isn't fair, and it isn't a solution. I'd like for you to talk with John, not for you, for me, for us." Drooping his head, Christian unknots the sash and pushing the flaps of my robe back he adores my body. Then slipping his arms to my back, he presses my flesh to his glistening flesh and touches his lips to my lips. "I. Love. You." He breathes.


	48. Chapter 48

Chapter 48: Too Late to Apologize

Disclaimer: FSOG belong to EL James

_I'm holding on your rope_

_Got me ten feet off the ground_

_And I'm hearing what you say_

_But I can't make a sound_

_Then you go and cut me down_

_But wait_

_You tell me that you need me then you go cut me down_

_You'd tell me that you're sorry, Didn't think I'd turn around and say-_

_It's too Late To apologize- One Republic_

**_A/N. Thank you, for reading, reviewing and following me... Please enjoy._**

Yawning, I slide my arms into Christian's white shirt from last night. Remarkably, it is still crisp. Popping the collar, I get a whiff, and his scent is lingering too. Luxuriating in the smell of Christian, and cologne, I rub the fabric against my skin. It is stiff but soft to the touch.

Relaxing my shoulders, I slip a couple of buttons through their companion holes and stammer out of the bedroom. Stumbling at the edge of the main room, I slide the remaining ones through the small holes, and I peer around the corner. I get a glimpse of Christian, and I'm alert. The imagery isn't the spiritual awakening of the previous night, but the sight of him sitting quietly reading the newspaper is just as soul stirring. It's also arousing another part of my anatomy. But I shove the naughty thoughts aside, and behind him, I tiptoe. His eyes squarely on the newspaper, Christian snaps his hand back, snags my wrist, and whirls me to his front.

Squealing, clumsily I fall onto his lap, and with my legs flailing, I ogle his mischievous but panty dropping smile. His catlike reflexes foiled my plans. "Not fair I wanted to surprise you."

Dropping the newspaper to the floor, Christian dips me, and he buries his face at the base of my throat. "You don't get it. You're in my veins. When you're near, I don't have to see you, the blood surges through my body," he murmurs against my skin.

Bracing my hand on his thigh, and side, I engage all the muscles in my core. "Same here, but this one time I was hoping I'd be able to sneak up on you." His head rises, and he helps me sit upright. "So, what's in the Sunday funnies that had you so engrossed, you couldn't acknowledge me," I tease.

"First tell me, how do you feel," Christian mutters, his hand creeping underneath his shirt skating tantalizingly slow along my thighs to my bare lady bits.

I swat him on the forearm. "Stop it!" He flashes me a Cheshire cat grin. "If you must know, I'm sore in my nether region. My upper region. My middle region." I motion.

"Gee," he snorts, "I should've been taking notes, that was quite a geography lesson."

"You asked, but you knew the answer. After all, you twisted me like I was a pretzel-"

"Don't forget, spanking that ass." I give him another wallop. "Why. Are. You. hitting me woman?"

"Why are you distracting me?"

Giving my thigh a lighthearted squeeze, he yanks his hand back and lists to the side. "Don't overreact." Studying my face, he retrieves the paper.

I eye him speculatively. "Christian, show me the darn paper." Bracketing me with his arms, he snaps the newspaper open. My curious eyes latch onto a grainy image. It's our likeness. It's us. Seizing the paper out of his hands, I bump his arms out my way, and lunge to my feet.

Pacing, intently I scrutinize the photo. It's after our big fight. Christian is leading me inside the Heathman. My head is bowed. The moment is tattooed in my mind, I was hiding my embarrassment from the hotel guests, not once did I consider insurgent paparazzi. "Oh my God." Fortunately, my face isn't visible, but that doesn't lessen the sting. "This feels like more than a violation of privacy."

I grumbled under my breath, but he heard. "Baby, before you get too excited Taylor is down stares handling it." Christian's attempts to settle my nerve is an exercise in futility, the picture is in my consciousness.

I stop in front of him. "How? Who?"

"The how we haven't figured out yet. Taylor doesn't recall seeing a flash, anyone, or anything suspicious." Over my shoulders, he inspects the photo, as if he's never seen it. "Considering the poor quality, we deduce it's an amateur – "

"Wait, "I broke in, "and a reputable media outlet accepted a photograph from in this condition, from an amateur and ran with it?"

"Hell yes. A picture of me with a woman is more newsworthy than the current the election." Extending his arm to my front, he attempts to pry the paper of my hands.

"No. I want to read the caption."

Relenting, he retracts his arm. "At least your face is unrecognizable, in one perspective that is a positive for our side, but it's also a negative- it will only make them hungrier. Come hell or high water they will investigate until they find out your identity."

"That's a welcoming thought. I'm so angry that they've invaded our perfectly crafted bubble," I say, and I start reading.

_Who's the Mystery Girl? Late last night, Billionaire Christian Grey was snapped entering the Heathman Hotel in Portland, with a young woman attached to his hip. As long as, he'd been covered the extremely private bachelor had never been photographed with a paramour. Unfortunately, we don't a clear view of her face, but if her profile is any indication she's a looker, and from what we can make out from her sweat shirt more than likely she's a co-ed. Her casual dress and hair style would indicate that, and some outlet is already reporting Harvard maybe. Now if we can only find out her name, and confirm the relationship to one of the world's most eligible Bachelors. Gideon Cross has already fallen from the pantheon of bachelors could Christian Grey be next._

I smirk inwardly at the mention of Gideon's name, but my brief flirt with levity is ended when Christian rips the paper out of my hands. "Enough." He drapes his arm across my shoulders. "Taylor will be returning soon, go get dressed. I don't want him to see you in my shirt, especially when you're gloriously naked underneath it." I flinch, and he pulls me tighter. "Don't be angry at me, I'll be a jealous bastard to the end."

"I'm not, I have to shower anyway."

"Okay." He removes his arm. "What would you like? I've eaten my breakfast. I was waiting for you to wake up, to order yours. I didn't want it to grow cold."

"Thank you. Nothing heavy, definitely not the entire menu. Wheat toast, eggs over easy, fruit, and bacon maybe."

"Good girl, that's more food than I could've hoped for."

"I am a little hungry, but don't get too excited and add more to my order. I'm not starving."

He chuckles. "You know me so well."

"Please. If only that were true." Rising to my tippy toes, I give him a peck on the cheek. "Give me about 30 minutes before you call. I want to check in with my dad, and Kate." I stroke his arm. "Stop pouting, and tell me how bad it is. And be honest."

"Well, it can be contained but with the media sniffing around we may have to go back to Seattle sooner than later."

"It can't be today," I warn, "I'm working, and my team is presenting their paper tomorrow, so don't even think about asking me to leave. You can-"

"Don't you think about it. Returning without you isn't an option. Flying back last night, I promised myself I wouldn't be without you again. The last weeks were torturous."

"Then we're torn."

He smooths down my wild hair. "No, we're not. We'll stay here until you do what you have to do. I'll get with Taylor, and Luke, with the sharks circling our security plan, has to be more robust."

"I hope you weren't too hard on him."

"Who?"

"Luke."

"He's here isn't he," Christian snipes, "besides, Luke was only following my instructions to shadow you, not crowd you. Ultimately, your risky behavior wasn't his fault."

I give him a broad smile. "Since you're so accommodating, I will meet you half way. My business class tomorrow is my last, and I will let the Clayton's know that today will be my last day. So, I will go back to Seattle with you. I should be able to handle any loose ends remotely."

Christian wraps his arms around me. "I love you. Thank You."

"I love you too," I say, "this is what people in stable, healthy relationships do every day- compromise."

He hugs me tighter. "Compromise, I guess it's not a dirty word after all. So, are you calling Kate to check up on her asshole brother?"

"And you were doing so well," I sigh. "Partially, but mainly I want to let her know I survived the night with you. And, for the hundredth time, Ethan isn't an asshole. He's a good guy, and he's my friend."

"Correction Kate is your friend, her brother is one more asshole I have to worry about."

I nod my head. "You're incorrigible, I'm off."

I start to move, and Christian hauls me back. "Did I bruise you?"

"Somewhat."

He gestures with his chin. "Lift. Let me see what's somewhat."

"Baby, do you hear me complaining? Nothing that happened last night I was against. Yes, it was raw at times, but that's who we are as a couple. Our love making is animalistic, passionate, intense but it is always shrouded in tenderness, and love." Reaching up, I catch the edge of his jaw, and closing his eyes Christian inclines into my touch.

His eyes open, and my hand falls away. "Still, I'm sorry. I hate it when I leave a lasting mark on you."

"Christian any bruising I receive as a consequence of our intimacy, I'm fine with. I know it's not intentional so let it go, and let me go before Mr. Taylor walks in." Giving him another chaste kiss, I sashay to the bedroom.

The call to Ray is short, his taciturn demeanor has returned, a sure fire sign that he has fully recovered. Disconnecting from him, I tackle the most difficult phone call. Kate.

She answers on the second ring, and from the get go she rails in to me. Inclining back on the bed, I allow her. I endure her scolding rebuke of Christian and scathing critique of me that can be summarized by three words. Weak, naïve, and submissive, the latter is eerily searing, considering Christian's proclivities.

I cut in. "Kate, how's Ethan."

"He'll live, it's his ego that's bruised, and battered."

"Why?"

"Why? He was attacked in a bar full of people and didn't get a chance to retaliate. He wanted to standup to the bully. You should try it sometime."

I ignore the snide comment. "I've never known Ethan to be violent," I say.

"Everyone has a breaking point, and your boyfriend took Ethan to his."

"Kate, I'm going to the end the call, you're starting to rehash things. This was just a courteously. I'll call Ethan later."

"Isn't that Christian's responsibility. An apology from him would be nice."

"Bye Katherine..."

Setting the phone on the dresser, I lose Christian's shirt on my way to the bathroom. Since I showered last night, mainly I soak under the burst of warm water wallowing in the penetrating force of the droplets, and the steam emanating from the scolding temperature. My body and mind aptly reinvigorated, I turn off the water and stepping out I quickly dry off. Squeezing the towel along the length of my wet hair, I then stack the damp tresses on top of my head wrapping a different towel around it.

Stepping into the bedroom, I go directly to the closet and choose one of the fancy outfits Christian has stored there for me. Because I'm going to work, I choose something casual. As I dress, I rehearse my resignation speech. I hate the prospect of leaving the Clayton's in a lurch, they've been so good to me. My departure won't come as a surprise, it's the timing that will create a vacuum.

"Feel better," Christian says when I reappear.

"Yes." Galloping across the room, I launch myself at him attaching to his body like Ivey.

"Whoa," he chuckles. "Somebody's awake." Cupping the apple of my cheeks he secures me to his body.

"You should be used to this by now." Tilting my head, I drive my tongue inside his mouth. Our tongues flit over each other, our head bobs as we enjoy, the taste and sound of our union.

"Minty fresh," Christian murmurs in my mouth.

"Thank the Heathman."

"I will." The corners of my lips curve up slightly, and untangling my limbs, I disembark from his body.

"So. What did Mr. Taylor have to say?"

My feet touch the ground, and he curls his hand around mine. "Come. Your breakfast is here." I glance at the small table. My humble fare is set like a royal feast.

"Are you sure you didn't order more food?"

He grins. "No." Releasing my hand, he pulls out my chair. "It's all the unnecessary utensils."

"Thank you." Sitting down, I unfurl my napkin. "Mr. Taylor."

"I'm getting to it, I wanted to get you situated first," he says.

"I'm situated."

"I'm not." Leisurely, he sits, crosses his leg at the knee, and wraps his hand around his coffee cup. "Jason spoke with the manager, and he assured him that under no uncertain terms are his staff involved. Together they viewed the surveillance tape. They didn't find anything unusual, but Jason and Luke are going to scrub it more thoroughly later on. He saw a few reporters mulling about outside, but nothing too concerning so he determined it's safe for you to move forward with your day as planned." He touches the cup to his lips. "That's it."

* * *

The elevator doors slide together. "I'm sorry." His squared shoulders stay rigid. "I was under a lot of pressure with my dad, and I-

Abruptly he turns, stunning me. "Will you shut up." Brusquely grasping my face in his hands, Luke crushes his mouth to mine. I stagger off balance, and he presses me into the wall, forcing my lips apart, plunging his tongue inside my mouth. I veer between offering light resistance, caving to his desire, and resisting more forcibly. In the end, the headiness of being overwhelmed is too much, and I submit. The kiss is a firewall engulfing me in its flames, and I suck on his tongue for the sweet taste of his cool relief. "Yesss" His single word is hiss against my lips, and just as fast it started it's over.

Craving his lips, the tip of my tongue darts in and out. The wave hitting me pins me to the floor. And I open my eyes. "What was that," I pant. The professional façade is restored, and rolling his shoulders, Luke pivots forward. The elevator pings, and dishing protocol he exits but doesn't wait for me. I have to play catch up.

I sidle up to him. "It was a kiss," he says immediately.

"Don't be coy with me, Luke," I say struggling to keep pace with him. "Here, I was extending you a sincere apology."

His hand flattens on my back. "Get in."

"No." He glares at me, and ducking under his arm I climb inside.

Slamming my door, he opens his, and slipping behind the steering wheel, he twists in his seat. "You can stop with the apologies, I get it. The sexual tension between was palpable. So, I did both of us a favor. I kissed you to diffuse it. Now we can move on…" He stares at me quizzically. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah." I rake my hand in my hair. "It's my stomach."

"Wanna go to the bathroom?"

Warmth swarms my cheeks. "Nooo." I stick my middle finger in the air. "This isn't an embarrass Ana day."

"Touchy."

"Sorry, this morning just gets better, and better."

"I'm not trying to add to your woes, just the opposite."

"Tell me, was it everything you imagined?"

"No. It was everything I'd remembered." My scalp prickles. "What about you?" he says.

I gulp. "It was good."

"Relax. To suddenly be confronted with the idea of never kissing you again, felt like too higher a price to pay. It was the only thing keeping me from letting go."

"Now. You're free."

"Yes." He smiles. "You were very close to being completely free of me. The letter was written, then hubbub surrounding the photo hit. T. starting conferring with me, and I didn't feel so marginalized. For the first time in a long time I felt like more than a highly paid babysitter."

"I've been so selfish. I'd made this all about me- "

"It was, and it still is. I want to be here for you when the shit really hits the fan."

"You are so thoughtful. Thank you. I wouldn't trust anyone else to help me navigate this land mine, I've walked into."

"Truce." I clutch his proffered hand

"Truce," I say, and we shake on it.

Luke flips forward. "Ready to blow this popsicle stand?"

I chortle, and then suddenly bile bubbles up in my throat. "Stop!" Thrusting the door back, I leap from the car and dump the contents of my stomach all over the concrete just as I plant my feet. The splatter barely misses my shoes and the inside of the car. My head hanging, I spot the hem of his pants, and the tops of his shoes between my legs and my arm juts out.

"Are you alright?"

"Stay back."

"Sorry, I can't do that."

"Luke. Please." I swipe the back of my hand, across my mouth, and unfurling by body I reel around." "See. I'm fine." Sidestepping, the remnants of my breakfast I scramble back into my seat.

Stretching, Luke taps my door, it connects to the frame, and he hops backs into his seat. Our eyes meet in the rearview mirror. "Are we going to talk about what just happened?"

"No."

Out of nowhere a bottle of Gatorade appears. "Drink this." Sitting forward, I pluck it out his hand. "And here."

Flopping back against the leather, I study the items in my hand. "What kind of emergency kit stocks Gatorade, and gum?"

"The Gatorade was for me, but you need it more. It'll settle your stomach. And the gum, well no explanation needed."

Rolling my eyes, I take a swig from the bottle. "Thank you," I say, crumpling the gum into my mouth.

"God help me, Ana, if something is seriously wrong with you, I'm gonna kill you if Grey doesn't kill me first."

"Luke. I'm not sick. Contaminated eggs are probably the root cause. I'm already feeling better, so can we go now." I slap the top back on the bottle dropping it to the floorboard and stow the wrapper from the gum in my purse.

The car starts rolling and craning my neck I inspect my profile in the rearview mirror. My face is ashen. The queasiness subsided, but color as it is, is nowhere to be found on my face, so I pinch my cheeks. Then suddenly, I'm pitched forward. The bottle rolls against my foot and stops.

I cry out, as we skid to a halt. "Are you hurt?"

Burnt rubber fumes infuse the interior, and I lean forward fanning my nose. "No." I'm fortunate the safety belt blocked my momentum, it prevented me careening into the back of the seat. "Luke, what happened?"

The back of his hand shoots up, and he talks into the wrist of the other. "T. we're coming back." Motionless, I listen. "The vultures are out in throngs, the number has grown exponentially," Luke says. The transmission from his earpiece is contained, making it impossible for me to hear the other end of the conversation. "Sure we'll see you upstairs."

"What did he say?"

Luke thrusts the Audi into reverse. Whipping his head around, he throws his arm across the back of the seat. "Hang on." He floors the gas. The SUV lurches kicking me back into the seat and employing his defensive driving training at a relatively high rate of speed Luke zooms down the alley. Backwards.

Weaving, he skillfully cuts the corners, and without breaking, he wheels us into the same slot we'd just vacated. Thankfully, my stomach was empty. I breathe a sigh of relief when safely we come to a stop, but before I can react, my door swings open.

"Fuck."

"Christian." I peer at his feet, and his Italian loafers are wearing the residue of my breakfast.

I wince. "Sorry." Pensively he stares at me. Concerned is etched on his face.

Mr. Taylor pats him on the shoulder. I get her sir," he says.

Christian shrugs him off. "No." Fitting his body through the door, he snakes his arms under my me, and his eyes assess every inch of my frame before scooping me up. "Are you hurt." Clinging to his neck, I nod. "Are you sick?"

"No. Forget about me, what's going on? How did you get here so fast?"

Clearing the vomit, Christian walks out of his loafers. "We'll talk when I have you safely ensconced in my suite."

"You're scaring me."

"Don't be scared." In his socks, Christian whisks me inside the building, with Mr. Taylor, and Luke on our tail.

Mr. Taylor opens the door to the penthouse suite, and storming inside Christian races to the sofa placing me down on it. Arranging pillows against the armrest, he grabs my ankles spinning me, but I resist. "Christian stop." Dragging my feet out of his clutches, I toss my legs over the edge of the sofa. "I'm not lying down until somebody, please tell me what's going on." I zone in on Luke, but his eyes direct me to Christian.

Christian pivots forward. "Luke where's Jason?"

"Here you go sir," Mr. Taylor says, handing Christian a similar pair of loafers. "I'll discard the others."

Christian slides his feet into the shoes. "Jason, I'll meet you, and Luke in your suite."

The two men exits and hiking his pants legs, Christian sits next to me draping his arm across the sofa. "We're alone, now, be honest, are you ill?"

I huff. "No. But I am getting sick of the question. It was most likely a slight case of food poisoning," is my curt response.

Hefting his arm, he tucks my hair behind my ears. "Did Luke's quick actions, exacerbate your injuries? After what happened to your father I don't want to take any chances."

"Since I didn't sustain any injuries from the accident, I'm going to say no."

He smirks. "In any case, can I get you to lie down for a bit."

"I don't want to lie down Christian. I don't want to go to the hospital. I don't want any more food. Or water. I want answers." I fold my arms in front of my chest. "Now. It's your turn. Tell me the truth."

"That's quite a list," he sighs. "You may find this hard to believe, but I don't have answers. Not yet anyways. I overhead Luke's 911 to Taylor and dropped everything to get to you. If you promise me to lie down, I can comfortably go next door, gather more information, and relay it to you."

I flick my hand. "Go." Christian stands, and I sprawl out on the sofa. Positioning my head on the stack of throw pillows, I get comfy, and prior to leaving Christian blankets me with his jacket.

When he returns with Luke, and Mr. Taylor, I fling the jacket to the floor. "No, no, no, don't get up," Christian admonishes.

"For goodness sake, I'm not sick, so can everyone stop treating like I'm an invalid." I shoot daggers at the lot of them, but Luke and Mr. Taylor peer at Christian absolving themselves of any wrongdoing. If the situation weren't so tenuous, their expressions would be comical.

Closing the distance, Christian sits on the metal coffee table in front of me. "Here's the deal. Interest in the photo is growing, which dictates that we change protocol. We can't have a repeat of this morning. First, Jason will hold an impromptu news conference, in the lobby. He'll throw them some red meat, enough to choke on, but not get full." Hugging a pillow to my chest, I anxiously wait for the rest of the specifics.

To distract attention from me, they're going to send them on a wild goose chase. Leak that I'm a current student at Harvard. It's Christian's bright idea. Ironically, he got the inspiration from the damming photo. I'm wearing my sweatshirt in it. Consequently, they will request that Media gives me my privacy while I complete my studies.

"It's a solid plan, but what happens when they start lurking around at Harvard?"

He smirks. "They'll get blocked at every turn. My connections at Harvard runs as deep as my pockets, and my pockets are deep. "

"Of course." I prop the pillow up on it's twin, and I leer at him. "Money. With you, that's the answer to everything."

"Anastasia, I will **Not** apologize. It is times like these that it does not hurt to be me. To keep you safe, I will use everything in my arsenal. And that includes my money."

Guilty that I'd put him in an untenable position in front of his staff, I concede. "I trust you, Christian."

The lines on his chiseled cheeks soften. "Thank you, baby."

"Miss Kavanagh sir," Mr. Taylor interjects.

"Yes. Katherine." He steeples his fingers, tapping them to his lips. "Do you think she will drive your car here? As an extra precaution, we want to create a decoy."

"Um, driving the Beetle is a hard line for Kate, but I'll give her a call."

"If she agrees, have her park in the underground garage like a regular guest. You will leave with her. Luke will follow you two to the apartment, and from there the usual protocol will apply."

I sigh. "This cloak and daggers stuff is feeling like a movie I didn't audition for."

Coming to his feet, Christian grabs my hand hauling me to his chest. "Baby, hang in there, this will be all over soon."

I lay the side of my face against his beating heart, and to my astonishment, it's racing. "No. It won't. The inevitable is here…"

He kisses my hair. "Well, at least I'll feel more comfortable with you in Seattle, I can better protect you at Escala."

My head lifts. "You mean, hide me away. Christian, I don't want to spend my summer in a gilded gage." I spy Luke, his expression is unchanged, but his eyes are mirroring my sentiments.

Christian palms the side of my head, resting it back on his chest. "Anastasia this isn't a coordinated effort to kidnap you, it's a security measure," he mutters. Then inexplicably he starts sliding the twisty down my pigtail.

My shoulders bunch. "What are you doing?"

"Since you were photographed with a pigtail, out of an abundance of caution we agreed that you should go without one for a while."

* * *

**Monday.**

I prepare to have my group's eyes on me when I enter the lecture hall. My relationship with my team was already strained, the ordeal with Christian did nothing to strengthen it. It drove them to exile me further, and while the identity of the girl in the grainy photo is a mystery to most, it is well known to them- a stark reminder of the ugly episode.

The end of this part of my college career is winding down, and I'm finding myself more sentimental about it than I'd thought I would be. But I can't wait for this portion to be over. The pretending was driving all of crazy. So, sucking it up, I march inside the lectern and join my team to await our turn.

Our presentation goes off without a hitch, garnering us all rave reviews; however, the professor singled me out for extra praise garnering me eye rolls. I didn't have to be a mind reader, one to a man, it is evident they all think Christian not only helped me, but he also wrote it.

Channeling Oprah, I get in touch with my enlighten self, and individually I tell each person good bye. Paul Clayton is the only whose shows some Grace. "So, this is it," he says.

"Yes. This is it."

"Sorry, I missed you at work. I didn't realize Sunday would be your last day." Audibly I sigh. "Considering everything that has transpired, I probably shouldn't ask, but did the photo have anything to do with you quitting so suddenly."

"Paul Clayton." I touch his hand. "Thank you for continuing to be a friend."

He smiles. "I guess I have my answer." The smiles fade. "It wasn't hard, my only regret it wasn't so much more. But you did good kid."

Stifling my tears, I give him a tight smile, and turning away from him I hurry out of the hall. Crouch behind the nearest pillar and I unleash.

My shadow is hovering over me. "Hey, what's wrong?" Luke, says.

"It's hitting me like a ton of bricks. My school days are coming to an end."

He offers me his hand. "Let's get you in the car before someone spots you." Tugging my hand, he helps me stand upright. "This is just the beginning for you. You have so much more ahead of you- more schooling, a new boyfriend, the possibilities are endless," he says, escorting me to the underground garage.

"I know," I blubber.

Circling his arms around me, Luke stares me to the SUV, instead of my Beetle. "Get in."

I swivel my head. "I'm driving."

He laughs. "No." Acquiescing I slide behind the wheel, Luke slams the door, and rushing around the SUV, he slips into the passenger seat.'

Leaning across the console, he rubs his thumbs along my cheeks. "I thought, we'd sit here until you didn't feel like crying anymore." Retracting his arm, he pops the collar on his polo shirt. Part of his casual ensemble to help him better blend in on campus. "_Anastasia, huh, he's got billions, she's worth zillions," _he starts rapping, and through my tears, I howl,

"You're such a goof ball," I sniffle. "I'm just not sure Kanye would approve, and Christian is going to double his royalties."

Digging in the pocket of his khakis, Luke fishes out his cell phone. "That's why I stay prepared." Plopping the phone down on the console, he allows the intro from 8 miles to fill the interior. Even if you don't like the lyrics, you can't help but bob your head to the dope beat.

Closing my eyes, I let the rhythm suffocate the sadness. "I'm starting to feel better already," I murmur, and my eyes open.

Resting his elbow on the console, Luke motions for my hand. "_Because you know you get one chance to blow," _he raps.

His silliness is contagious. I can't hold onto the melancholy any longer - I join in. I'm offbeat, out of tune, but none of it matters. Happily, we bob our heads, exaggeratedly gesticulate our arms, and rap to the tip of our voices until at same time our phones beep interrupting the zaniness.

I glance at mine. "Christian," I say.

"T," Luke says.

The phones glued to our ears, we sit back and listen intently to our one -sided conversations. Simultaneously, we disconnect and swiveling our heads our eyes meet. "What did he say?" I inquire.

"Where the hell are you."

"What did Grey say?"

"Where the hell are you," I say, and we burst into laughter.

I take a parade route through campus fondly recalling my first day. Sadly, most likely this will be my last time on the site of WSU before graduation. Stopping at the traffic light, in my rearview I reminiscence one final time, and giving Luke a knowing glance I hit my signal and turn to the right. Once on the main road, I pick up cruising speed, and soon we're easing up to my apartment. As part of the new security protocol, Christian checked out of his suite, at the Heathman, and spent the night with me so I park behind the SUV.

Luke opens my door, and as we walk we coach each other, or more like offering each other support ahead of our tongue lashing. But if was for not, Christian and Mr. Taylor are in good spirits when we entered the apartment.

"Baby," Christian says, and handing my things to Luke I rush into his open arms.

"I'm sorry we're late. I got a little verklempt," I offer.

"Why? Your professor disliked the reports?"

I break his embrace. "Nothing like that. We got great reviews on our presentation, especially mine."

"Okay. Taylor has everything packed and loaded. Do you want to do a last minute check?"

"Nope. If I'm missing anything, Kate can mail it."

His arm forms a half-circle at his. "Very well, let's hit the road." I stick my hand through it, and he escorts me to the car. Mr. Taylor locks up the apartment, and Luke gets inside his SUV. "We're alone you want to tell me what's bothering you."

"Just emotional. This marks an end of an era."

"Don't view it through a negative prism, see it as the beginning of a new adventure. I don't want to give too much of my speech away, but this is the beginning of the rest of your life."

I giggle. "Don't give up your day job. If that's part of your speech Mr. Grey, your devoted fans will be sorely disappointed."

"Not soaring enough?"

Scrunching up my mouth, I shake my head. "Not even close. Corny is the right adjective, the only thing missing- _this is the first day."_

Mr. Taylor slips behind the wheel. "So what's the status of the press?" Christian inquires.

He peeks in the rearview mirror at Christian. "Some media is still lurking around the Heathman-"

"Then it's smart that you moved out," I say.

"Every now, and again I prove that I'm more than a pretty face."

I rub the back of my knuckles along his jawline. "Don't knock a pretty face."

"Since it's the only one I have; I'll have to suffer with it."

I smile. "Everyone warned me."

"About what?"

Burying the side of my head in the leather, I stare at him. "For you, this is a way of life. I'm a simple girl, with a simple existence, that's about to change."

He plants feathers kisses on the back of my hand. "Hang in there with me, I'll protect you from those vultures."

"I will, I just need to adjust. Everything is happening at once. Graduation, moving to Seattle, our eminent exposure. Give me some time. My timeline for these events was different."

"How different."

"For one, I thought I would've had time to hang out with Kate. Or just savor my accomplishments. You attended Harvard, I don't have to tell you, how rigorous their classes are. The doctoral program promises to be even more daunting."

"Baby you'll ace that program; I have faith in you. In the meantime, let's put your linguist skills to use. You can help me add some sparkle to my speech," he mocks.

"You sir will be just fine," I say. ""Thank you for saying what you said. It's good to know I have your support. For so long, you've been harping about me leaving I didn't think you wanted me to pursue another degree."

"Don't ever doubt my support for you. That was covetousness I want you near me all the time. But I would never stand in the way. Yes, I wished you'd chosen a closer school-"

"You realize I made my selection before you. Right."

He strokes my thigh. "Yes, I do. and don't worry about me, I'm working on a plan where we can be together."

"You're not moving to Boston are you?"

He chuckles. "Let's get something straight, I maybe an Ogres, but Ogres have feelings too."

I snicker. "So, which Ogre are you?"

Christian winces. "I didn't know, there was a choice?'

"Well, Shrek is the most famous."

"Shrek it is then, but somehow you've missed the point."

"I'm sorry." I twist in my seatbelt. "Go, ahead you have my attention."

"Too bad. Now I have performance anxiety."

"Performance anxiety, huh, strange choice of words for you."

"Smart Alec." He taps the tip of my nose. "Don't get any ideas, everything works just fine."

"Sensitive are we," I say, "by the way, I have a job interview.

His ears perk up. "That fast. With who.?

"Well, it's not an interview per se more like touching bases. I met the VP of HR, Elizabeth Morgan, at a job fair WSU hosted on campus. She was one of the representatives for Seattle Independent Publishing- "

"SIP. I'm familiar with them. The culture should be favorable for you, it's small."

"So, you approve."

"Well, they'll have to be vetted if you get the job."

"I'm not worried, the job is pretty much mine. Ms. Morgan liked me right away, she didn't hire me on the spot because of Harvard."

"So, you called her then."

"Actually, she saw my updated profile on linked In."

"Let me remind you, you don't have to work. I was planning on it. I was hoping to have you all to myself for the summer."

"Let me clarify, it's not a job, it's an internship-"

"Rude awakening, GEH is teeming with interns, and they work the hardest. Traditionally, it's for little or no pay. But I'm the exception-"

"Aren't you always."

"You and your smart mouth. Continue."

"That's all."

"When are you meeting her."

"Wednesday, but I won't start until after graduation."

He grabs my leg. "So, I'll have you all to myself for two weeks," he says, "what shall I do with you."

I run my tongue along my bottom lip. "I'm sure some ideas will come to you."

Gazing at me hauntingly, Christian leans across the seat unsnapping my seatbelt. "I'm glad you wore these pant," he says plucking the elastic waistband of my sweats snapping it against my skin.

"Mr. Taylor," I mouth.

"Taylor."

"Yes, Sir?"

"Do you have your earbuds and IPod?"

"Yes Sir, in my pocket."

"Use them."

"It's fixed," he murmurs.

Hustling closer, I whisper in his ear. "He can still see."

"I'd hope so, seeing that he's driving."

I swat his arm. "You know what I mean."

"Yes, I do," he says snaking his hand inside the waistband of my pants, "but here's the thing he works for me. He doesn't see anything I don't want him to see. I only had him add the earbuds to appease you." As he talks, Christian wiggles his fingers inside my panties, and then he plunges one deep inside me.

"Aha." My voice catches on a moan, and digging my fingers into the supple leather, I throw my head back.

He pulls his index finger out of me and flicks my clit. "This should help take some of the edges off," he murmurs, as his fingers glide over the slick nub. "You're so wet. I want to take out my dick, set you on top and let you ride me until we reach Seattle. Would you like that Anastasia?"

"Yesses."

"What about Mr. Taylor." He mocks me, as he masterfully manipulates the erogenous zone at the tip of my clit, by rubbing the pad of his finger back and forth.

"I don't care," I moan.

"You dirty girl. You want to come?"

"Oh yes."

"You're ready to come aren't you?"

"Yesses," I cry out, and Christian yanks his hand out of my pants.

"Huh."

He grips my chin between his forefinger and thumb. My scent is on them, and I imagine my juices glistening on each. "No one gets to see or hear you come. That's only for me."

I close my eyes and quickly reopen them. "You're cruel. What about the dumb speech?"

His fingers fall away, and Christian smooths tendrils over my face, absorbing the beads of sweat forming. "I changed my mind." He smirks.

"Okay." I shift in the seat, and he grabs my arm.

"I will fuck you properly, in my bed when we get home," he says, and he paints my lips with my essence. "Suck." My lips part and he push the fingers through. "That's my girl. You like it?"

"Mm mm," I moan.

He extracts his fingers. "That's enough," he says, and he pats me on my thighs. "Come on let me help you with your seatbelt." The buckle clicks, and he leans forward tapping Mr. Taylor on his shoulder.

He sits back, and I lean in. "I need to go to a drugstore."

"Why, I'll have Taylor get you what you need when we get to Seattle."

"Christian."

"If it's feminine hygiene products, I'll have Gail get it."

"I'm sorry, but there are some things I'd like to do for myself, and this is one of them."

"Anastasia, why now, your period isn't due for a few days." I gasp. "Don't be so surprise. I know your body. Externally I know the feel of your skin and every dip of your curves. Internally, I know when your period begins and ends."

Audibly I sigh. "Then humor me. Let me salvage some of my dignity."

"Taylor, did you hear that?"

"Oh, God." Grumbling, I smack the heel of my hand on my forehead "kill me now." Christian smirks.

"Yes, sir there's a drugstore at the next exit. It's a sleepy little town, so we shouldn't have a problem with paparazzi or nosey neighbors."

We roll into a parking space in front of the quaint storefront. Luke pulls in next to us, and for some reason, he's the one that gets out to open our door. "You're not going in with me.?" Christian wiggles his brows and grabs my hand. "Dignity remember."

"I'll let you pay for it."

My hand locked in his, I roll my eyes as he lugs me out of the car. Hand in hand, like a normal couple we stroll through the automatic doors. When we cross the threshold, Christian freezes. "You can get what you need. I'll browse. It's been a long time since I've been in one of these."

"A store." He wiggles his eyebrows. "It was too easy, I couldn't resist," I snort. Standing on my tiptoes, I give him a chaste peck on the cheek for good measure, and he releases my hand.

I wait for him to disappear. Go straight to isle I need, pluck my selection from the shelf, pay for it, and then go in search of him. "You're done?"

"Yep."

"I'm not. Maybe, you can help me," he says shimming a package from the rack. "What do you think of these?"

"Cable ties?"

"You know what they are?"

"I've spent the past 4 years working in a hardware store. So yes. But, why do you need them you don't do your repairs? The heaviest thing you move is a coffee mug."

"You and your smart mouth." He smacks my butte with the packet. "Open your mind. Imagine the possibilities," he rasps in my ear licking the shell.

I pluck another packet from the rack slapping it against his abdomen. "Here get two."

After an interesting trip to the drugstore, we drive nonstop to Seattle. Mrs. Jones has an early dinner waiting for us but, Christian has her save it for later, and he hauls me directly to the bedroom. And despite talks of restraints, and gags, true to his words Christian made love to me properly. It was quiet, it was sweet, and it tenders he never veered to the dark side. The cable ties did not make their debut. Knowing his psyche, he was most likely feeling guilty about the rough play from the other night, and the bruises it left behind.

* * *

**Tuesday. **

Gripping the edge of the counter top, gradually I descend to the floor. Slumping against the cabinet, I stretch my legs out along the warm marble floor and staring at my hands my mind swims. The first time I saw the sonogram. The first flutter in my stomach that I loving referred to as a ballet kick. The first time I heard the words, I'm sorry followed by I can't find a heartbeat. All the firsts that are indelible marks in my brain, heart, and soul that I can't escape. Then I consider the possibilities, the darkness filling my depth lifts, and my spirit soars.

My heart dissolving to my toes, the object of my fixation slips out of my hand, and my body shakes uncontrollably. "Anastasia." I hear. "Where are you, Gail said you were in here." Pressing the back of my head into the wood, I sit paralyzed as he disturbs my moment of silence. "Gail said she hadn't seen you for a while." His words reverberate in my ear, as the consternation in his voice grows. He nears my de facto hiding place,and I try to suffocate my sobs, but one breaks through. The door flies back, and Christian's eyes lock with mine. "Baby."

I hiccup. "What are you doing here, I thought you were at work."

Strolling further into the bathroom, he sizes me up. "You were still morose when I left this morning so I came home early. I thought I'd cheer you up." He runs his hand through his hair. "Take you to the Grace for lunch, stay for dinner, maybe even sleep over." He stoops. "Anastasia, why are you crying? Why are you so sad? What's wrong. Baby, talk to me," he says, and terror flashes in his eyes. "Is that what I think it is?

My head bobbles. "Yes," I sniffle.

"Fuck." Christian rakes his hand through his hair tugging on a handful. "Not again, Anastasia," he snarls. Extending his hand, he grabs the wand from where it lays on the floor at my fingertips, and he stands to his full height. "How the fuck, could you let this happen?" Glowering at me, he waves the stick in the air. "This is what you picked up at the drugstore." I nod. "Use your fucking words. And stop with the water works and answer me." The veins on the sides of his head, and neck bulge, he's so furious.

"Yes." I dug deep for a substantial response that would rise to the level of his heated rhetoric and spirited tone, but I squandered the opening he lobbed my way. My one-word reply is inconsequential, not to mention my voice shook when I delivered it.

"Damn." Hoisting his hands to his waist, Christian tilts his head back. The white stick protrudes from his hand taunting me, stabbing me in the chest with dreams of what might have been like it is a poison epee. "I can't believe you let this happen again. You've ruined everything."

As his acrimony drifts into vitriolic discourse, it becomes impossible for me to deny the echoes of the past. The tears dwindle, and I have an unobstructed view. "That's the second time, you've intimated that somehow I'm the only one to blame?" This time, I'm deliberate and concise in my delivery.

His head had jerked forward. He swallows, and lowers his gaze discerning the impetus for the swift change in my attitude. "You know what I meant. This wasn't on our radar."

I press my palms into the marble tile for moral support. "Why not. We have sex like bunnies-"

"That's the rub Anastasia, were not cute furry creatures bred to stock little Johnny's, and Susie's Easter baskets, we're human beings with money and access to every birth control method imaginable-"

"A rubber being one," I blurt out, "You should try it. That's if you get another chance."

His lips form into a hardline. "Don't be a flame thrower if you're afraid of fire," he spits out. "You're right, I share blame. I trusted you with the birth control."

"Trusted me." My breath hitches, on a small intake of air. "As if you had a choice. It's my body. Ultimately what I do with it is my choice. Your claims of knowing every inch of it are great fonder for the bedroom, but outside of it is stale, and sexist. We don't have one of those contracts that list you as lord over my body. This relationship isn't lopsided, you can have a say, but you don't get the say."

Sighing heavily, Christian raises the wand to in front of his eyes. "Wait." He goggles at the implement, pans to me, and back at the wand. "This has a line. You're not pregnant." It doesn't take long for the smile dancing on his lips to emblazoned his whole face. "Why are you crying. Why are we having this discussion? We're not pregnant. It's a good thing." The white stick clatters against the hard shiny surface, as he scrambles to sink to the floor next to me. "Baby, this is good news." He's glowing with excitement, the corners of his eyes are crinkling.

His tone deafness is unreal, the tears start flowing again. "I wanted to be pregnant," I sob.

Christian blanches. "I need an explanation. My head is swirling with all sorts of notions, and none of them are good. "

"Christian I'm empty inside." My trembling fingers curl, pounding the middle of my chest. "I have been since our baby died. And I can't fill the black hole." My head lolls to the side, and the water flows out the corners of eyes drenching his jacket.

Christian wedges his arm behind my back, and he cradles my head to his shoulder. The mean spiritedness notwithstanding, he feels good. "I thought you said, you were okay, and didn't need counseling."

I simper. "The straight line materialized, and the loss of our baby was fresh..." My head eases up, nudging his hand out of the way and I peer into his gray eyes. The elation has tempered some. "The pain was immediate and jarring. To me, it was a gift. Another chance to bring a life into this world. A boy or girl with your intense gray eyes, and steely façade hiding a tenderness waiting to explode."

His free arm crosses in front of his chest, and affectionately Christian wipes tears from my face. "Baby." He rubs his thump, on my cheeks, and he drops his hand. "I don't want to seem insensitive, but let me state the obvious. Pregnancy is a tremendous responsibility. A life time of commitment. It's not a do over, or a sab to lessen old traumas."

I have a visceral reaction to his ridiculous assertion. I stare at him askance. "You're an ass!"

He strokes my arm."Anastasia."

I flinch. "Don't." Exhaling, eh extracts his arm. "I'm hurting, not mental. Go ahead. Hurl cruel insults at me, but you can't shape it to fit your narrative. I didn't plan it. It wasn't until the possibility arose that I allowed myself to believe in the likelihood of another pregnancy, and it wasn't until a negative test proclaimed I wasn't that it hit me - how badly I wanted to be pregnant.'

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to infer that you had a mental illness. I'm not good at this Anastasia. It's not my thing."

"It's not that hard Christian. If your words abandon you, listen. It's in the quiet moments that I feel the closest to you. Right now we're touching, I'm staring into your eyes, I can hear you breathing..." He covers my hand, and I drag it back. "Yet, I'm so detached from you."

"Wow." His head sags, and propping his knee up, he drapes his arm on it. "So, how long had you suspected it? I don't recall you missing a period."

"Yesterday, when I threw up. Then I started tabulating all the emotional surges of late, and I put two and two together. Unfortunately, it didn't add up to four."

He angles his head up. "I've inserted my foot into my mouth already, but here's the thing Anastasia. I'm not going to lie to you. Like you, every day I struggle with your miscarriage and harbor the added guilt of not being present, but unlike you, I'm not anxious for another shot at fatherhood."

"That was evident, by the unadulterated glee when you discovered the truth."

"Remove the emotional attachment to losing the baby, and think rationally. You have the rest of your life ahead of you - grad school, a new job. Me."

"I'd trade all of it to bring a life into this world. To be a mom." Christian's leg shoots out, and his arm falls to his side. "I was where you are once. Considering my retched childhood, I swore I would never have children, and a strange and beautiful transformation occurred for me when that little seed started growing inside my belly."

"You included me. Did you mean it? You'd sacrifice me, for a baby?"

"Christian didn't you hear me. I don't want any baby; I want to be a mom to your child. Our baby."

The sparkle returns to his eyes. "If I could experience the miracle of life growing inside me, perhaps I'd go through the same metamorphoses. But it's not humanely possible." He cups the side of my face. "So, I'm left in this space. I don't want a baby. I want to show you the world."

I knock his hand away. "I need some air." Reality grips me by the throat. Bit by bit, he's dismantled the illusion I'd erected to bolster our relationship.

I storm out of the bathroom, and Christian follows. "Where are you going?"

"For a run." I have to flee the staleness that's choking me.

"Give me a moment to change." Trailing me inside the huge walk-in closet, he starts undoing his tie.

"No." Squatting, I choose the first pair of running shoes my hand touches. "I don't want you to come with me. I need to be alone," I say bringing my selection with me as I straighten up.

Anchored in the doorway, Christian raises his arm above his head resting his elbow against the frame. "Anastasia, that's not an option. Particularly in this environment."

"I know, Christian."

He snorts. "Guess. I'll call Luke."

"Luke, Mr. Taylor, Reynolds." I bump his chest. "I don't give a damn." Shocked by my language, Christian steps aside.

"What I hear is, anybody but me."

I plop down on the edge of the bed hard. The firm mattress has to dip. "My words don't need interpretation, I told you as much." Slipping on the sneakers, I tie them as Christian warily observes me. Setting my feet on the floor, I stare at him. "You don't get it. Words matter, but actions matter more. You failed. A second chance to do better was thrown at your feet, and you trampled all over it. If I had been pregnant, you were prepared to revert to the same madness."

His expression sobers. "I have a stretch of property on the outskirts of town. It's secluded. I'll call Luke and have him take you there."

"Thank you." I stand up. "I'll wait in the living room." Brushing past his arm, I strut out of the bedroom. My frostiness rendered my platitude, just as empty as his words. And if his expression is any indication, I can take solace in knowing he knows it too.

After sometime driving, Luke parks near a tree in front of a meadow. I press my nose against the window, and stare in wide eyed amazement at the sprawling field, and it's idyllic charm. It is brimming with every wild flower imaginable, in every hue imaginable. Each color is as vivid as the next, the intensity so vibrant their beauty doesn't appear real. More like an oil painting from one of the masters, or if you're a common folk like me, an offering from the painter of light himself, Thomas Kincaid.

The door opens, and Luke pokes his head inside. "So are you going to talk to me?" Peeling my nose from the glass, I rotate my head.

We slouch against the hood of the SUV. "It's so tranquil out here," I say.

Luke's head darts to the sky. "Yes, it is" It drops, and his attention returns to me. "But small talk wasn't what I had in mind."

"I took a pregnancy test-"

"I knew it." Fisting his hand, Luke punches his elbow back. "Yes. You're pregnant." His jubilation outclasses Christian's putrid reaction."

"I wish Christian shared your enthusiasm." Bowing my head, I trace figures in the dirt with my foot. "I'm not pregnant. The test was negative."

"What! Oh, Ana." Luke wraps his arms around me, and with my eyes welling with tears, I rest the side if of my head against his chest. "That's why you needed to escape," he murmurs against my hair.

"Why can't he half of your humanity, and why do you get me, and he doesn't?" I whimper.

He clutches me tighter. "I don't know. Sometimes, I think it's because you let your guard down with me." He releases me. "Look at me. I'm not in his shoes, so I can't begin to expound upon what he's feeling. But from what I know of Grey, his chilly response to you isn't personal, it's who he is."

I throw my hands in the air. "'It's who he is,' that's always the answer. As if it excuses all his bad behavior?"

Luke gives me a half shrug. "Don't get mad at me."

"He doesn't want children."

"So. That's not new news."

"But, I want children someday."

"And. That's not a Grey's problem, that's an Ana's issue-"

I snort. "Here I thought you were on my side."

"Just because I have a different viewpoint, doesn't mean I'm not on your side. I'm your friend, and what's our creed?"

"The truth always."

"What's the quote you're always spouting from Maya Angelou?"

"There are many, but I think you're referring to _When people tell you who they are believe them."_

"Yeah, that's it. But if my memory is right, you left off a key phrase, 'The first time'," he pauses. "To paraphrase, Jack Nicholson, you want the truth, but you can't handle it."

Breathing in the fresh air, my eyes wander over every inch of the meadow. "This place has an enchanted garden vibe."

"Well, your boyfriend spent a fortunate on experts who worked with nature, to transform the space into his private oasis. That's why it's so safe. It's not even on Google maps."

"The property is so atypical to his tyrannical personality."

"Perhaps, you don't get him." I roll my eyes. "Your changing the subject."

"I'm talked out Luke."

"Just one more thing. I tip my hat to him. It must be killing him denying you something, he lives to give you the world."

"I don't want the world, Luke."

He holds out his hand. "Let me have your sweat shirt. I'm sitting this one out. You need to sort your shit out, and you can't do it with me breathing next to you."

"It's scary, how tuned in you are to me?" I unzip and hand him my hoodie.

Luke rolls his eyes and points in the distance. "See that tree?"

"Yes. How long has he had this land? Today is the first I've heard of it."

"Since before I came to work for him."

"Do you know what his ultimate plans are for it?"

"Nope. Never asked, and don't care. He will run here when he needs a great escape from the hustle, and bustle of the city or when he has some heavy shit weighing on his mind. Like when unbeknownst to me he was going through the crap with you."

"Really."

"Settle down, it was just an inside thought, that I let out. Anyways, to the tree and back. Roughly four miles. You can't see it from here, but there's a stream next to it. Take a moment to enjoy it. "

"I'll take that under advisement," I say, getting into running position.

"So what do you have on your playlist, old school rap, gangster rap, or the new school stuff?"

"None of the above. Today is a _Breakeven_, _Jars of heart_, and _Say Something _kinda day."

"Snap. That broody shit. You're going to be suicidal by the time you make it back."

Shrugging him off, I put my first foot forward. Soon as my feet make contact with the dirt, I shed some of the stress. Calm replacing it with every stride. The trail is littered with a hodge-podge of nature's little bounty; sticks, pebbles, the changing leaves. The crackling under my feet compared to the noise generated when I pound the pavement of the city is more soothing.

The faster I run the further Luke fades into the background, and I relish in the absolute solitude. I haven't had it since reuniting with Christian, and it is heavenly. So, I unplug from the world, stuffing my earbuds inside the armband with my phone, and I surrender to the Spring air crashing into my face. Respecting the production value of the music from mother nature I hear not listen to the trees rustling in the wind, the birds twittering as they make intricate patterns above me, and my feet connecting with a forgiving earth.

Arriving at the tree, I savor the fragrant smell of Spring wafting through my nostrils. Humbling myself, I lean on the indestructible trunk, and I appreciate all that has been given to me. Harking back to a time when my life was simpler but no less troubled, I recall the many nights on the streets, the endless parade of new families, and the wish for a love I never thought possible. Reclining, I listen to the steady trickle of water in the nearby stream, and in it, I hear myself crying out to the universe, then explicably my head pops up. I admire the clouds floating in the sky, the powerful radiance of the branches hovering over me, and I have the universe's response.

I push off the tree, and I sprint down the path. As I close in, I slow, and I trot to Luke. "Take me home," I pant.

"Here." He hands me a hand towel. "Wipe your face first."

"Thanks." Scrubbing my face, I duck under his arm and slide inside the back of the SUV.

He snatches the cloth out of my hand. "There are clean ones next to you."

"Do you guys think of everything."

"The boss's motto, be prepared." The door starts easing to its close position.

Gripping the headrest, I sit forward. "That's the boy scout's motto." He pauses. "And I doubt any of you were boy scouts," I shout and chuckling Luke lets the door slam.

The ride back to the city is long. And Luke in his infinite wisdom doesn't try to engage me in witty chatter, or some deep philosophical thinking, or car Karaoke, he stays silent, and I'm grateful. It gives my fragmented thoughts time to solidify, and as a plan formulates in my mind, I recline back in the seat, to enjoy the silence.

The car swerves jostling me out of the light sleep I didn't realize I'd fallen into. I blink wildly, and when I have my wits about me, I grip the door handle. Luke wheels into one of the myriads of parking slots designated for Christian, and soon as he cuts the engine, I leap from the back.

Crossing the concrete, I prep my ears for a sharp rebuke, that never comes. Right on time, the elevator doors ping open, and I scramble inside. When they reopen, I float out into his foyer.

"Miss Steele you're home."

"Hi, Gail," I chirp. "Where's Christian?"

A smile is covering her entire face. "Mr. Grey's in his office."

"Thank you." Humming, I round the corner and skip down the hallway. Faltering at the door, I gather my nerves. Not because I'm undecided, I'm resolute in my decision, it's his that has me wavering. Taking a leap of faith, I grasp the knob and thrust the door back.

Christian's head flies up. "Anastasia." His chair rolls back from the desk.

"Stay." Unintentionally my request comes across like a command to rover. Christian can't help but smile, and it melts away some of the frostiness between us.

He's changed out of his suit and is dressed very leisurely in a white t-shirt. I'm treated with a taste of his bare feet, peeking from under the desk, and mesmerized by the sight, I push off the door frame, and rush into the room. Skimming the tips of my fingernails along the edges of his desk, I launch myself at him and landing in his jean clad lap, I take his face into my hands. "I love you."

He clasps his hands to my waist. "I love you too," he whispers, "you're not mad at me."

"I am." I drop my hands. "But it doesn't supplant my love for you. We have talking to do, you have lots of apologizing, but right now I want to focus on us."

"Music to my ears. I wasn't sure you were coming back."

"When I left I wasn't sure either. I was so in my head; I'd taken for granted what was in front of me."

"What's that?"

"You." Christian closes his eyes, and when the lids peel back, they're glossy. I can't discern if they're misty, or it's the glare of the light.

"Your propensity to forgive me is unbelievable," he mutters.

"I haven't forgiven you, Christian. I've adjusted my expectations."

"Higher, or lower."

"Let's just say, my head's out of the clouds. The other night we'd promised to talk things through things, and at the first major conflict, I ran. But here's what I know for sure, I'd rather weather the craziness with you than work it out on my own."

Christian lays his head on my chest. "Are you sure you don't want to talk to Flynn?" He whispers against my still damp workout clothes. "Not just about the baby, but me too."

I press his head to my chest. "I'm sure. Kiss me."

"Gladly." Lifting his head, he cups me by the nape tipping my head down, and he rims my lips with the tip of his tongue, before slipping it inside my mouth. Our tongues curl over each other, as his head bobs, and mine struggles too.

His grip loosens, and I push back. "Confession, I could never walk away from this," I murmur against his lips.

Releasing my neck, Christian helps me stand, and following suit, he extends his hand to me. "Come. Let's shower."

"I stink."

Swiveling his head, he wiggles his brow. "There's more to do in a shower than washing." Elongating his strides, he gets us to the bedroom in zero time flat, where he quickly disrobes me then himself. Lugging me into the bathroom, he positions me by the enclosure, while he gets the water to his desired temperature. To test it, he enters the shower first, then offers me his hand.

"Thank you." Joining him under the down pour, I bask in the warmth of the water. "Hmm, this feels good."

"Stay still, let me wash you." Bracing my palms against the tiled wall, I anticipate his touch, and it's worth the anticipation. His lathered hands glide over every inch of my skin, my bottom, the crack of my ass, and his favorite place- between my thighs. A lofty moan escapes me when he slides the edge of his hand back and forth over my slit igniting the bundle of nerves.

Planting his broad chest against my back, Christian tugs on my hair pulling my head back to him. "Now tell me." He pulls my hair tauter. "Do you want me to use a condom when I fuck you." Huskily he whispers in my ear. His breath mixed with the steam gushes hot on my skin, and combined with his domineering tone, it's a heady concoction.

"No," I pant, "I want the sensation of you in me."

"That's my girl." Loosening his grip, Christian gives my head a gentle shove and using his foot he widens my stance. Then, the large head of his cock prods the slit in my ass, pushing through to the rim of the tiny hole. I flinch, and he leans into me. "Just a little baby. Is that alright."

I bite my bottom lip. "Yes," I murmur but to myself, I think that it's as far it will go. I'd gotten used to the unforbidden sex act with Luke, but Christian's penis is on a whole different level. Memories of the last time he took me in this way swirl in my head. It was violent, and painful but then was a different era for us - I was a conquest, now I'm his sole inspiration. "Uh," I cry out as his erection breeches the tiny opening.

"Fuck me," Christian grunts, and he stills. "Relax baby. I won't hurt you. This is about pleasure, not pain." Coaxing me, he slides in about another inch and stops. "You feel so good; I'm just going to live here." The burning pain, morphing into burning desire I inch back on his throbbing cock. "Fuck Anastasia you're going to make me lose control," Christian screams, and he pulls his erection out of one orifice driving it into another.

My body jerks, as the force, pushes into Carrera tile. "Oh Christian," I purr. Gripping my shoulders, relentlessly he pounds into me as the water rains over us. True to who he is, I'm sure this is a punishment fuck, but it feels so good, I surrender and give him his vengeance. Tomorrow I'll exact mine.


	49. Chapter 49: I left my heart in SF

**Chapter 49:** I left My Heart In San Francisco

**Disclaimer:** FSOG belongs to EL James

Damien Stark character belongs to J Kenner

**A/N:** Thank you for reading, following me, and reviewing. Enjoy

_I left my heart in San Francisco_

_High on a hill it calls to me_

_To where little cable cars climb halfway to the stars_

_The morning fog may chill the air, I don't care_

Tony Bennett

Luke shifts from one foot to the other, waiting for me. "Sorrry," I shrug. "I have lots of hair." I tuck the last strands under the Nike baseball hat completing the disguise. They kept it simple. The goal is to shield me from the hounding press, not attract their attention.

I give the cap one last adjustment, and hurrying out the door I accidentally graze his arm. Luke grumbles, so touching down in the alleyway, I toss him a half-hearted apology, and then it's my turn to play the waiting game. While he fusses with his phone, I inhale the smell of gas fumes, bask in the steam billowing from the grate like a plume of smoke, and listen keenly to the honking horns at the opposite end of the narrow alley appreciating the concrete jungle. It doesn't compare to the lushness of nature with its sereness cloaked in fields of brightly colored blooms, wind whistling through tree branches, and sky the color of... sky. Still, the city isn't a shrinking violet, it's a utopia with its own pulse- a scent, rhythm, and a sensation that in some ways, is just as vibrant, and alluring.

Finally, he joins me, and together we do our stretching routine starting with our lower extremities, then strangely he bows out. Soldiering on, I clutch the back of my left shoulder, stretching my right side. I go to my right shoulder mirroring the move on my left, but he touches my elbow thwarting the full range of motion. "I have something to show you," Luke announces. When I reel around, he shoves the iPhone in front of my face. Benji's likeness is filling the screen.

I snatch the device from his hand, press it to my chest, and slump against the façade of Escala calling to mind the joy of welcoming him into my heart, and the pure misery of having him ripped from it. Only the loss of my human child has put that pain into perspective. "This made my morning," I choke.

"Thought it would. Mom emailed it earlier, but I wasn't able to pull it up." Lurching forward, I return the phone before suppressed feelings bubble to the surface.

"Thanks."

He stuffs the cell in the elastic band encasing his bicep, and as I wipe dust from the bottom of my jogging shorts, he bends down securing the laces on his running shoes. Popping upright Luke scours my face, and there's a reflective glint in his eyes. "You look... Relaxed. Effervescent. You're practically glowing. It's been a long time since I've seen you this buoyant. If ever." Pensively, he stares at me. "Will it cross some arbitrary friendship line if I confess that I'm jealous."

A nervous smile tugs at my lips, followed by a dismissive sigh. "Probably. But if the past is any predictor, don't worry, this won't last-" Luke snorts, gruffily. "What?"

"You."

"And." I gesture with my hand for him to spit it out.

"For someone who espouses to be Mary Sunshine sewing gumdrops, you sure can be Miss doom, and gloom. Just now when you were forecasting impending ruination, it clicked. You're Pig Pin. I had a vision of drama swirling around you, like the filth, surrounded his head."

"Pig. Pen. Clever. I don't know if I should be offended or gracious," I giggle, "but I feel some kind of way-"

Luke tugs my sleeve. "Take the fake outrage out on the streets. Run, and talk."

"Aye, aye sir."

We trot for a bit, and he reverses our course. A delivery truck darted in front of another one. "Too much commotion that way, this way is better."

"I have no contempt- it's probably a bigger insult for Pig Pen. If Charles Schultz were alive you'd have to issue him an apology for the comparison though."

Luke laughs. "Just so you know, self-deprecation is just as bad."

"I am hot a mess. I'll admit it." He's quiet. "I leap from one fire to the next, most my own creation. Being here. Spending time with Christian. Gleaning valuable insight into who we are as a couple, versus two people simply talking past each other..." I swing my head his way and our eyes lock.

"What? I got nothing. Just listening."

"Denial is a river in Egypt."

"And Truth is a city in the US," he quips, "I can do this all day."

I make a buzzer sound. "Wrong. The city is Truth or Consequences, it's in New Mexico. Get your facts straight. Hear that?" I cup my hand to my ear. "It's the sound of the mic shattering on the ground."

"Smartass."

"Don't hate the player, hate the game."

Tracing a circle in the pavement, he gives me a playful nudge. "No more MTV Rap for you."

I stick my tongue out at him. "Anywho, being here has centered me. Regardless of what's on the horizon, I'm going to enjoy the moment- "

"Ladies' and Gentlemen Mary Sunshine is back. That's the spirit. Upbeat. Now you're living up that tagline on the bottom of your emails. How does it go- today's a gift- "

"'That's why it's called the present.'" His recall was failing him so I jumped in. "It is my all-time favorite, but another quote was my inspiration. 'Live, love, and laugh'. A smart man told me that once."

"A romantic devil too. And good looing don't forget."

I giggle. "Very." He checks his Apple Watch. "How many steps?"

"Not counting; I was checking on something else."

"I won't ask."

"Good"

"In case you're wondering, things are going smoothly. Christian's been magnanimous-"

"Go figure. And even after you bitterly accused him of incredibly ugly things, when his only crime was wanting to protect you."

"Cut me some slack. It was a tense day. My nerves were frayed."

"Okay, if that's your excuse, and your sticking with it." At the curb we run in place waiting for the traffic light to change. "So, tell me about the house party?" Luke says.

The pedestrian signal appears. "I don't know if I'd call it a house party, the only similarity, it was a party at a house," I lament, as we trot along the crosswalk. "One implies unruly teenagers pillaging and plundering everything. This was a tad more civilized. The partygoers were more refined. The setting more a fortress than a rambling ranch on a suburban tree lined street. It had all the trappings of unspecified wealth, and as for the shallow millennials dripping with riches. The only antics they were interested in is comparing mommy and daddy's spoils."

"Still, it's unfathomable to me that Grey allowed you to go -without him no less. And Taylor for all intents and purposes allowed you to roam unsupervised."

"The place was swarming with the security. Some might have been Secret Service."

"That explains the long leash. Did you have fun at least. I can't tell from your colorful description."

We round the corner to the main block, I have to swing wide to miss the rough edges of protruding stones. "Don't judge me. You grew up in the environment, I'm an outsider."

"Ana they're just people. Stop generalizing and comparing yourself to them. Rich people aren't all bad. The same way poor people aren't all good. You have a developed thought, but it's a simplistic view. Rich people are individuals with more things, and the money either highlights their weaknesses or dulls their strengths."

"Deep."

"Yeah, right."

"Luke, I'm serious, and you're one of the good ones. Your light is always shining."

"Whatever," he grunts. "Where was it, T. didn't give me details, and nothing you've described is ringing a bell."

"Um, not sure didn't ask, didn't care. Full disclosure, Mia had me too hyped to ask questions."

"There's nothing wrong with that. Mia Grey has issues, but partying hard isn't one. And I'm sure her brother called in some favors, so he knew you guys were safe. It's why he was comfortable."

"Perhaps, and he was probably struck with a small dose of guilt mixed in with a generous heaping of pity."

Luke grins. "You can create quite the imagery with your words, dramatic some would say. Case in point. Gilded gage. My favorite by the way- can't lie"

I roll my eyes at him. "You're sooo funny-"

"Wait there's more," he says cutting me off, "the crap you just spouted."

You're hilarious, but the jokes on you yet again. Doesn't count if I wasn't wrong. Escala is a museum masquerading as a humble abode, and Mia's friends are spoiled brats."

"No, you're hilarious," he says.

"You're hilarious," I respond, and like two kindergarteners we continue with the lame shtick, until he decides to get serious.

"Compassion or contrition?"

I stop giggling, and stare at him blankly. "Cum-pas-shun," I sound it out trying to discern the question.

"Compassion or contrition, which inspired this morning, because I was shocked when T. called me into action."

"Ohhh. Then both. It was Christian's suggestion, and I didn't balk at it. I suspect he wanted to give me a change of pace from running with him and Mr. Taylor every morning. But it's all wrapped in with the guilt, and pity thing."

"Perhaps."

Peeping around I take notice of the buses, cars, and taxis motoring past us. Seattle is slowly rising from its slumber. "No, paparazzi."

"They've been quiet of late. Lying low which is why I've been on the bench."

"Perfect Segue. What have you been up to?"

"We're not talking about me," he says, leading us onto a block with less traffic.

"And why not."

"I said so." His response is terse. I drift into his path, but he rams me with his elbow before I can bump his arm. "Watch it." Luke's warning is in time for me to sidestep dog poo.

"Yuk. I hate dog owners who don't clean up after their pets."

"Me too. It's why you have to stay sharp."

We clear the minefield. "I'm not letting you off the hook."

"We're not talking about me Ana so move on."

"Okay, then the backpacking trip-"

"You're relentless. What part of we're-not-talking-about-me do you not understand." Abruptly I stop. "What are you doing?"

"Protesting."

Luke backpedals. "Dramatic Ana. Noisy Ana." When he's next to me, he hooks his arms with my arm. "Stubborn Ana," he says completing his list. "Luckily, I like them all." His voice is smoldering, laced with all sorts of innuendos.

There's an empty silence, and I unlock my arms. "We were doing so well."

"Yep, we were."

We start running, the beat of our feet pounding the cement is a steady rhythm that smothers the rumbling that's both an ache, and a reminder. "You were testing me."

"No. I was speaking frankly, this is testing you. Playing house must make the sex hella good-" I squawk, and he zooms off.

Huffing in frustration I pick up my pace too, and catch up to him. He's still having a cathartic laugh at my expensive. "Two can play at that game, you know."

"You're too easy."

"Now. Your sex life."

His boyish smile dissolves into something more resolute. "We're not talking about my sex life. Ana."

"Huh," I sigh, "not' so funny when the shoe's on the other foot."

"Last night. 2 days. Jill, Kate, Ashley, and a couple of Whitneys." I tip the bib of the hat back, my nonverbal request for clarity. "Answers to questions you're dying to ask me. I had sex last night. I don't go out with any one girl for more than two days in a row. The names are the names of some of the women I've slept with. Not all. And before you ask the question that's nagging you the most, yes to WSU. In particularly a cute little blonde.

Laughing hysterically, I slow to a standstill. "I'm sorry. I missed most of the that. I couldn't get past Ashley, and Mary Kat…" I sputter. "Reminds me of the Olsen twins."

He stares down his nose at me. "Kate. Not Mary Kate," he growls.

I scrutinize his face, and he's trying desperately not to crack. "I know. I couldn't resist. It makes Kate furious too." He gestures for me to getting going "And who's the blonde, and what's so special about her?" Using my sleeves, I wipe the corners of my eyes, as I start a slow trot. "Thank you. I haven't laughed this much, and that hard in a long time."

"You're welcome."

"Now. about the girl, who is she."

"I thought you missed that part."

"Some seeped in. So."

"Ask Sean."

"Sean. What does he have to do with anything?"

"She's his girlfriend."

"Lucas. Sawyer. You did not."

"I did, and it was good."

I give him the hand. "TMI. But why go after Sean's girlfriend. He's a good guy."

"Let set the record straight. I didn't go after. I bumped into her, one day when I was hanging out waiting for you. And you can relax, girlfriend is a hyperbole. She's someone he's banging, is more like it."

"Still. You targeted her. You're just like Christian. You're jealous."

"The only thing Christian Grey, and I have in common is you." The loud noise from the city, fades into the background, and we're left with the conflicting factions of our emotions but appealing to our better instincts we simply let things sit. Smartly, choosing not to get mired in the confusion that is Ana, and Luke.

I'm the first to speak. "I wished you wouldn't have dragged Sean into this, or taken advantage of the girls on campus."

"Sean, can take care of himself, and I didn't take advantage of anyone!"

"Don't get defensive, I'm not talking criminal. I'm speaking emotionally. It's not easy getting over someone like you."

" You're not over me?" His mood is changing so quickly, I have whiplash. He's gone from warm, to frosty, and now jovial.

"Don't. Flatter yourself. Metaphorically speaking."

"Surrre," he says playfully.

"I hate you."

Luke laughs. "And why?"

"I wanted you to squirm. Instead you were forthcoming," I pout.

"Ana, it's just sex to me, that's why it was easy. It's love that makes it difficult for you."

"Could be," I sigh. "I Have a question."

"God help me." His head snaps up to the sky, and falls forward. "Go ahead."

"Why do you get so prickly, whenever I bring up your backpacking trip? What are you hiding?"

"Race you to Escala." He bolts, before I can object so I sprint too.

My pace was faster this morning, I not only caught him, but dusted him; however, he won the war. The fast pace, wasn't conversational so we couldn't discuss his trip, and what he's hiding. Thankfully, he didn't hold a grudge, our mourning together ended in the way it started, the two of us clowning each other; so much so, that when the elevator doors ping open we're in the throes hysteria. "You're never this jubilant after running with Taylor and me," Christian says when Luke and I stagger out of the steel box.

Luke snaps into CPO mode, and I fall into Christian arms, lacking the strength to fling myself at him. To his credit he doesn't rebuff me, he envelopes me in a warm embrace. "You two aren't funny." I rest my face on his chest.

Christian bellows. "Duly noted." He plucks the cap from my head and clumps of slick wet tresses tumble over my shoulders and down my back. "Did you win?" Christian inquires.

I press back on his forearms. "How did you know we raced," I mutter.

"A hunch. And you're drenched in sweat, breathing hard, naturally competitive, and Luke's responsibility as your security personnel is to indulge your whims," Christian says.

"And you wouldn't have?"

"Let's just say, I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

"Embarrass Me." I almost do a back bend, in his arms. "Oh Grey, it's on. I'm going to beat your ass like I own you."

Luke's professionalism, takes a dive, and he guffaws, and Christian with a very satisfied grin on his face hauls me back to his chest. "Not too hard. You already own me, and My Ass."

"Christian!"

"Baby, it's just Luke and Gail," he says, pointing out the obvious, but missing the point. Ignorant to my real discomfort, he runs his hand down my damp hair as he questions Luke.

"No, Mr. Grey. Everything was clear. The alley was busy, an influx of deliveries this morning but nothing unusual." Reclaiming his more businesslike bearing, Luke replies in short and concise sentences.

"Good. You can go. Taylor probably won't need you until we get a new date for Anastasia's interview."

"Yes, sir," Luke says, and I hear the doors to the elevator.

Christian nudges me back. "Can you eat something?"

"Yes. Let me shower first."

He inspects the front of his shirt. "Looks like I'll need a shower too."

"Hardly. A damp shirt doesn't justify a shower. It calls for a change of shirt."

His hands fall, and cups mine. "Gail."

"Yes, Mr. Grey." Inside I cringe. Will I ever get used to his staff? Our banter was far from explicit, but the sexual overtones were there. "Miss Steele what would you like for breakfast. Your usual."

"No. I think I'll have pancakes, and bacon this morning."

"Pancakes." Christian pulls me flush to his side, and he lowers his mouth to my ear so only I can hear. "You just made my dick twitch."

"Christian everything makes your dick twitch," I retort.

"Good point. Well made."

The shower as a place for bathing has long been lost on Christian and me, it has replaced the bed as our favorite place to make love. This morning, however, it proved to be too much of a good thing. Our make out sessions, zapped the energy out of Mr. Sex-Machine himself driving his decision to work from home. But first, he had to feed me. Then we barricaded ourselves in his office. He worked, I read, listen to music and watch him work until Miss Jones summoned us for lunch.

We emerge from the office; the smell of butter greets us. "Popcorn. Miss Jones making popcorn for lunch."

"Let's find out." Unexpectedly, Christian pauses at the media room and opens the door.

"What's all this?"

"Go see."

Releasing his hand, I stroll inside, and stand in the middle of the room in awe. The level of detail, the amount of effort that had gone into transforming the space into a replica of a movie theater was something to be hold. "Why, it was an exceptional media room."

Christian jams his hands inside his pants pocket. "It was, and it will be again, but not today," he explains, as he crosses the threshold,"you are my queen, and today this is your court."

"But How. When."

Removing his hand, he points to his ears. "Noise cancelling headphones," he says,"but the majority of it was completed while you were out." He's gloating, but not from arrogance- it's fueled by his excitement.

"You tricked me." I poke his side. "It's why you were peddling your fancy headphones, and you pawned me off on Luke. Come to think of it, this entire morning was an elaborate scheme."

"Yes." Hanging his head, Christian gives me a quick peck on the forehead. "I wanted you to be surprised."

My eyes flit from one feature to the next. "Well, you've succeeded."

He motions with his chin. "Check out the basket."

I skip to the pedestal holding a medium sized wicker basket, and demonstratively lift the top. It's packed with every Nicholas Sparks book turned into a movie, mixed with countless of Romantic Comedies. "_When Harry Met Sally, Three Weddings And A Funeral, Clueless." _Reading them off, I fan the discs out in my hand. "Are you mad. We're going to watch all of these?"

"Yes." Traversing the room, Christina grabs the CDs' from me and drops them into the container. "And no-" The elevator pings, cutting him off.

"Christian." The lyrical lilt of his mother's voice fills the cavernous space.

"Your mother is here," I whisper.

"Yes." Mocking my tone, a smiling Christian threads his fingers in with my fingers. "In here mother."

Dr. Grace, with an excitable Mia by her side, appears in the doorway, just as we close in on it. "Christian, you weren't kidding." Her eyes inspect every crevice. "This is spectacular; I can't believe you got all this completed in a few short hours."

"I'd say, considering I was in the house and didn't hear a thing."

Closing the distance, Dr. Grace drapes her arm across my shoulders. "Darling you're so precious, give me a hug." She draws me into an embrace, just as Mia brushes past us.

"Sweet." An animated Mia claims her seat.

Christian chuckles. "I see you've marked your spot."

She swings her feet like an amused child. "All I need now is some Robert Pattison in my eyeballs," Mia swoons.

Christian gathers us around a disappointed Mia, and fills us in on his plans for us. An elaborate scheme, and he's bestowed upon it the unimaginative title of Ladies' day, and to my discomfort and the joy of his mother he repeated the ridiculously corny queen bit. Burying my embarrassment, I try to concentrate on him, but I'm preoccupied with his mother. She's beaming, her eyes are welling with tears observing her son with a relaxed, and jocular attitude.

He concludes, and as if they choreographed it Miss Jones enters with the stack of white robes. "There's Gail. I'm thrilled you're joining us," Dr. Grace says.

"I am too." Miss Jones sets the bounty down on the small hutch. "It was generous of Mr. Grey to invite me."

Dr. Grace squeezes Christian's hand. "I for one, am glad he did, I'm looking forward to the adult conversation." It's humorous witnessing her lower her voice to a whisper in front of us, as we can't hear her.

I giggle, and Mia leaps up from her chair racing to the fluffy robes. "A full body massage, and watching movies all day in your robe. Priceless," she says, rubbing the cotton between her fingers.

"Thank Anastasia. She was my muse. Her pension for loungewear is the same you have couture."

"Thank you Ana, this almost makes up for the Robert Pattison omission. " Staring across the room at her brother, Mia cocks her head. "Really Christian, you couldn't get one movie, not even _Water for Elephant," _she whines.

Walking up to her, I pat her on the arm. "Next time. I promise."

Christian steps away from his mother. "I'll let you ladies sort out the movie situation, I have a conference call to prepare for. Remember Gail has the room stocked with everything you'd find at a movie complex, and more. But you still have the run of the place." He zeroes in on Miss Jones. "And Gail don't you dare do anything. Rely on the staffers I've brought in or call me."

"Sweetheart speaking of staffers, do you know if Elena is coming?"

Christian can't make it to me fast enough, he's aware of the effect that woman's name has on me. "No, mother."

"I'm going to call her."

"No," Christian, and I reply in stereo.

"I want to keep it to just the four of us." I attempt to soften our adamant response.

"I'm sorry Dear, I should clarify, I wasn't going to invite her. I thought she'd want to be here to supervise her team. She's very particular especially when it comes to her favorite Clients."

"Yeah right. Mom, I know Mrs. Lincoln is your friend, but she only dotes on us because Christian gave her the money to open her salons."

"Invested Mia, not gave. Get it right."

Dr. Grace tosses the phone back inside her giant Birkin tote. A bag, I'd recently become acquainted with after Kate fawned mercifully over it. "Forget it. You kids. I swear."

Christian's relief is immediate, and he gives me a chaste kiss on the cheek. "On that note, I'm out of here. Lunch in about 15 minutes. Dinner is at your leisure. Thank you Gail for surrendering your kitchen to my chef. He will treat your kitchen with the same reverence he does his kichen at the Club.

"He'd better," Miss Jones chortles.

Christian's back disappears through the door, and Dr. Grace slaps her hands on the back of my shoulder whirling me around, and hugging me like her life depended on it. "Thank you, my sweet girl. I've never seen him so happy, and free with his time. Before you, we were rarely invited here. Now this. It's unbelievable." Removing her arms, she gazes into my eyes. "I'm glad you took my advice."

"Thank you for your guidance, and support."

"Are we going to watch movies or are you two going to blather about Christian all day," Mia pouts.

"Watch a movie," Dr. Grace and I say in unison.

It's close to midnight, and Dr. Grace and Mia are just now leaving. Mia can hardly stay upright; her mother's shoulder is her pillow. "Good night my darlings, thank you for such a wonderful day. And night." Her eyes drop to the top of her daughter's head. "Mia thanks you too, we won't soon forget it."

"Mom. Spend the night. I have the room."

"Christian you know your father."

"Yes, he's like me, he wants to wake up with his girl next to him."

Dr. Grace's cheeks are crimson. "Something like that. And I have to be at the hospital early." She glances at the top of Mia's head, and then forward. "We should go, so this one can get to bed."

Draped in her fluffy white rope, Miss Jones makes an appearance. "Do you need anything Mr. Grey, before I retire."

"Gail. Why don't you sleep in tomorrow-"

"Great idea. I can make breakfast," I squeal.

Dr. Grace's smiles profusely, but Mr. Taylor closes the elevator doors before she can rant lyrically about what she overheard.

"Goodnight. Guess, I'll see you two for lunch," Miss Jones, says.

"Alone. At last."

"At last." Fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt, I fill my mind with all he has done for me in the lasts weeks. Not only satisfying my carnal needs, but also feeding my intellectual development, and nurturing my soul. "You don't have to entertain me like you're my babysitter. I'm capable of being still. Being quiet." My hand falls, and my head tilts to the side. "Watching you work. Watching you read. Watching you eat. Just watching you..." I bite my bottom lip. Christian strokes the side of my face, and caressing my jawline he touches his thumb to my chin easing my teeth and lip apart. Then nudging my head forward, his mouth opens, and inexplicably closes. "Speechless Mr. Grey,"

"Everyday. All day." An unflattering he-he escapes me and just like that the sexual tension crackling in the air quiets. "My sister is never poetic but always apropos. I'm gonna have to investigate Robert Pattison for her," he tacks on, "but I must give credit where credit is due, you leave me speechless every day."

I latch my pinky finger onto to his, and sway our arms. "Every day you rock my world, Christian. But what you did today for me. Mia. Miss Jones, and most importantly your mother was beyond special. It was monumental. Even when it seems like we're imploding, I get to see you at your best. It's time you shared that with your family."

Unlocking our fingers, Christian pops the collar on my robe. "I take it these were a hit."

"Let's see." I touch my finger to my lips. "The fact that we're all still wearing them. I'd say yes." I pause. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Change the subject, when I'm heaping praise on you."

He releases the collar; strolls to a barstool and props his elbow on it. "Go ahead." Mockingly, he gestures to the floor.

I flip the collar down. "For starters, you're a great son, brother, employer, and boyfriend. Secondly, your attention to detail is unmatched. With everything you have on your schedule to plan something of this magnitude with the specificity you did was thoughtful, mind boggling, and quintessentially you-"

"Quintessential," he blurts out, " will have to make that my word of the day."

"Funny, ha-ha."

Listing forward, he stretches his long arm grabbing the end of my sash hauling me to him. "No, not funny ha-ha," he says, taking me with him when he falls against the counter. "I'm elated that you can see the best in me when repeatedly I show you my worst."

I slap his thighs. "Again. You're not playing fair."

"This is the only way I know how to play," he says snuggling my neck.

I give my shoulder a half shrug. "I have a serious question."

"What," he mumbles against my skin.

"The paparazzi. What happened. One minute there's fire, and poof nothing."

His head pops up. "I haven't killed them if that's your question."

I laugh. "If you had, I wouldn't hold it against you."

"I'll keep that in mind." He taps my nose. "Some lurking in the shadows. But likely they're underground doing they're homework. If luck is on our side, they won't find out anything until after your graduation. Then it will be moot."

"I can't wait. Finally, we'll be able to come out as a couple." I peer up at him. " We're like an episode of the Bachelor."

"What."

"Never mind." I lower my gaze. "I just can't wait until we can hang out like a regular couple."

"Sorry to disappoint you, we'll never be a regular couple."

"I'll settle for normal."

"Normal is iffy too."

I smile. "Maybe." He lugs my hair from under my collar and holds it in a ponytail behind my head. "The robes were an excellent idea for a perfect day," I murmur.

"Why don't we continue the perfect day in the bedroom. You can relax. I can comb your hair."

Audibly I sigh. "Christian if I get any more relaxed my muscles will liquefy."

"Plan B." Angling his head, he licks the shell of my ear. "I take you to bed, crawl in behind you, mold my body to yours, and we fall asleep listening to your playlist?"

Lurching forward, I almost collide my head with his chin. "You got yourself a deal."

Chuckling he releases my hair and wraps his hand around mine. "Enjoyed the movies," he says, as we walk hand in hand down the hall.

"Yes. Most of the time the screen watched us. But mainly we unwound in the wonderful gift you spoiled us with, ate and gushed about you."

"Next time we'll do this for Mia's birthday. Make it a Robert Pattison-a-thon."

"The only thing she'd love more is Robert Pattison himself," I snort.

"There's a thought."

"Oh no, I forgot who I'm talking too," I giggle. "Umm, before I forget, Elizabeth Morgan text me. Her mother is better, she's back in town, so our meeting is set for next week."

Christian opens the bedroom door. "I'll have Taylor inform Luke," he says, flicking the loosely tied slipknot on the sash. The robe flops open, and he pushes it off my shoulders letting it bunch on the floor at my feet. I trample over it when he drags my naked body the rest of the way inside the room.

He slams the door, whips me around, and one at a time Christian positions my arms above my head. Flattening his palms on top of the back of my hands, he collapse on top of me. The buttons on his shift, and the buckle on his belt digs into my inflamed skin. The biting isn't particularly harsh; the affliction is my unhealthy desire for him. I crave him.

* * *

We pull up in front of GEH, Luke cuts the engine, and twisting in his seat, he props his elbow over the headrest. "Taylor will be here shortly," he says. "You're right, there is a very notable change in Grey. You know how to handle him. There's easiness between the two of you. He's more loose. For God sakes he didn't flinch when he caught us palling around in the elevator, there's no fear of self-incrimination when you use my name, and he rolled with it when you were ribbing him."

"I appreciate the compliment, but I reject the notion of handling him - no one handles Christian Grey. A few weeks ago, I never thought I'd say this, but the fiasco with the paparazzi has made us stronger. The uninterrupted time together has allowed the small fissures to heal fortifying our trust, allowing our love to flourish" The irony is glaring, but he has the civility not to contradict me.

"I also wanted to tell you-"

My phone pings. "Hold that thought. Let me read this. I texted Kate earlier about my job." I burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, she's so funny. She replied to me," _time your lazy ass stop living off your rich man." _I snigger, but his reaction is much more sober. "It was funnier when I read it to myself." My fragile pride sufficiently, wounded I stuff the phone in my purse.

He feigns a cough. "Right," he says. "Listen. I'm going on vacation. I won't be needed. After today, you'll be glued to T. and Grey. So, I'm taking advantage of the free time."

"When."

"Soon as I'm packed.

"What's the rush? This an excuse to disappear."

He exhales. "No. I want to get some surfing in, and the waves are calling me."

"Wait. You're going to miss my graduation."

"Never. I'll be back in time; T. will need all hands on deck."

"Silly me. Here I thought it was because of me."

"Everything I do is because of you." I shift uncomfortably in my seat, and Grey House emblazoned, at the top of the skyscraper pops into my line of sight; it's an opportunist reminder of the great divide in my life. "Ana," Luke calls, "are you alright, you zoned out for a moment."

The car door opens. "Miss Steele," Mr. Taylor says.

Hurriedly, I grab my pile of literature, and scramble outside. "Miss Steele," Luke yells, before Mr. Taylor can close my door.

I let Mr. Taylor have small the stack of paper, and poke my head back inside the SUV. "If I gave you a graduation gift, would you accept it?," Luke whispers.

"Depends, if it's appropriate," I murmur.

"I can do appropriate."

My subdued expression transitions into a broad smile. "Then I'll expect a titanium Apple Watch."

He laughs "True that."

The door swings. "Now who should stop watching MTV?" He shrugs. "Have a safe trip."

"I will. Thank you," Luke says.

I relinquish the door, to Mr. Taylor, and he slams it closed. "Mr. Grey is on a conference call- "

"Gosh. I should've called. Is he busy? He's busy- "

"Miss Steel. He's never too busy for you. However, you will have to wait in his office for a moment. The call had already begun, when Luke informed me of your change in plans."

Successfully, reassuring me, he escorts me inside the building. The interior matches the outside, modern, sleek, and sterile, but the people bustling about are infusing some warmth into the cold environment. A few of the employees I recognize from my party, but I can't be certain, everyone's eyes are downcast. It's odd, but Mr. Taylor is wearing his stern face, so I'm too intimidated to ask questions, instead I mirror the minions and drop my gaze. I'm relieved when I make it to the elevators, without any stumbling mishaps.

We're delivered to the PH floor, and Mr. Taylor ushers me past Christian's assistant's desk, who stares awkwardly at me. Then he opens the door to his office. Christian lunges from behind his desk, and before I can walk through the door he hoists me off my feet carrying me inside. "My Internet Mogul," he boasts, as he swings me around.

"I thought you were on a call."

"I was." He sets me on my feet. "Let's celebrate, I'm taking you to dinner."

"Now. It's early."

"It's never too early for dinner, but I can think of something we can do in the meantime." My head juts out. "A tour," he chuckles, "what did you think I was going to say?"

* * *

Daydreaming I lose myself in the billowy clouds, romanticizing about Christian and me lying on our backs in his meadow debating the shapes of each of the puffy globs, as they float against an azure blue sky. "If I didn't know better, I'd think this was the time you've flown."

Peeling my nose from the glass, I rotate my head. "Flying this way feels like it is."

Christian tucks stray strands of hair behind my ear. "If I have my way, there will be many more flights. I want to you show you the world."

"Christian you dangle the world in front of me like it's a premium - you're the goal."

Sighing, he reclines the back of his head into his headrest. "You make it out be to so simple."

"It is simple; we make it harder. You and me." Hustling closer to him, I ensnare his arm and lay my head on his shoulder. "I can't believe you're doing this, flying me to San Francisco for dinner. Who does that?"

"Napa, precisely," he says correcting me, "and who does that, the man who loves you."

"It's amazing. Thank you, and not just for this trip, but everything. If I haven't said it, I appreciate you. You've gone out of your way to do things out of your comfort zone because they make me happy," I squeeze his arm.

"We've reached cruising altitude Mr. Grey, you're free to move about the cabin," the Captains says, and Christian hunches his shoulder.

Like Houdini, in seconds Christian has us out of our seats. "I have something to show you." We pass Mr. Taylor, he's too involved with the hordes of paperwork laid out on his tray table to be bothered with, and we come to a set of pocket doors. Christian waves a palm in front of them, and the panels glide back "State of the art, but it's not the surprise," he says, just as a standard size bedroom, with a full side bed comes into view.

He leads me inside the sparsely, yet handsomely appointed room. "This is...wow."

We come to a standstill at the end of the bed, and dropping my hand he places his index finger under my chin raising my face to meet his. "I want you to become very familiar with this room." His finger falls away, and keeping his eyes locked on me, Christian plops down on the edge of the immaculately prepared bed. "We're going to be spending a lot of time in it when we travel."

His unrepentant gaze scorching my skin, he bunches the hem of my skirt in his hands, I close my eyes, and hold my breath. His finger flutters, lightly stroking the tingling skin on my outer thighs. My breath gushes out of me, propelling me forward, I have to brace my hands on his shoulders. "Oh Christian." Shivers swarm my body, as he makes a meal out of hiking the form fitting skirt.

"Yes, baby," he murmurs.

"I love you." The only three words I want to expend my energy using.

"I love you, too baby. So much." Blue eyes to gray, we just stare at each other, and at the same time realization dawns. He lets the hem of my skirt go, and catches me when I descend onto his lap. In that second we knew we could never improve upon the intimacy of that moment.

He dabs, the corners of my eyes with his thumb. "You. Overwhelm me Christian. I can't believe you exist, and I'm with you. You're with me. You want me," I whimper.

"Why can't I get it through your head, that I'm the lucky one. Don't you know that I touch you sometimes, just to reassure myself you're real. I survived my terrible childhood escaping into my imagination." He smooth the hair from my face. "But there's nowhere in my mind, or this life I could've imagined you."

I lay my head on his shoulder, and the airplanes bounces. "Yikes."

Christian hold me close, comforting me. "Just a little turbulence. Consider it potholes in the sky."

"If you say so, but I'm not sold."

He angles his head. "Want to go back up front?" Sitting upright, I bite my bottom lip. "You know what that does to me."

"Uh-huh," impishly, I nod, and I release my lip.

My eyes close, begging for him to put his tongue on me when instead he uses his fingers rimming my lips. "Open your eyes baby, I want to see your pleasure." Slowly, my lids curl back, and his eyes are worshipping me. He's penetrating my soul.

I stroke the side of his face, and he leans into my touch. "Do you know how extremely handsome you are."

He plants a butterfly kiss, on the heel of my palm. "Only because you tell me."

"Christian what are you doing to me. I'm scared."

"It's what you're doing to me." He rests his hands on the sides of my hips. "I want to make love to you."

"Pleasse." My voice is so breathy my S hisses. I'm pitiful when it comes to his hands on me, and I don't care.

"Ride me."

I slide off his lap to the bed. "I'd like that." Tugging on his shirt Christian leaps to his feet.

"This will be quick, but not hurried," he says liberating the rest of the shirt from his pants, and his eyes trained on me, he quickly disrobes to his ankles. "Give me your hands." Pulling me upward, Christian retakes his place on his throne.

He is swoon-worthy. Like him his most favorite asset is perfection in every massive inch. I can't help it; I pause for a moment to admire the beauty. He curves slightly to the left, and as I debate my limits, I test my own patience.

A wicked grin toying on his lips, and searing eyes burning into me, Christian positions my hands on his shoulders encouraging me to straddle him. So, as gracefully as I can, I toss my leg over his thighs, and his hand snaps up grazing my inner thigh. I exhale from the shear shock of it, and the sensation from it.

Sweeping underneath my skirt, Christian finds his target, and I bear down on his shoulders, as he slides the flimsy fabric across my clit to the side. Then clamping down on my waist, he slowly eases my throbbing flesh down on him. "Ugh," I cry out when the large head breaches my entrance.

Christian bucks his hips, thrusting another inch or so inside me. "Damn. That's it baby." Freeing his hand, he undoes the top button of my blouse.

I simper, and he smooth the silk across my chest, as I continue coaxing my swollen flesh down his engorged length. Exposing my bra, he then heaves the heavy mounds in his hands. My back bows loosening my grip on his shoulders, and sending my head back. As he sucks my nipples through the delicate gossamer fabric, I use his muscular thighs as leverage to help me sheath his seemingly expanding erection to the root.

My body spasms, bumping his mouth from off me. "Gawd Christian," I scream flinging my arms around his neck begging for the mercy I need, but do not want.

Burying my head in his shoulder, I cling to him as he bounces me on his pulsating member. His cologne meshed with his clean fresh Christian inspires me to give him full control. So, as we cruise the friendly skies, Christian alternates between rocking my hips on his erection, and snaking his arms under the curves of my ass digging his fingers into my inner thighs, feverishly lifting me up and down on it. The cool, dry air on the airplane is stifling sweat from beading on my skin, giving my thick main the freedom to blanket his face without the retribution of moisture stinging his eyes or tainting his lips with salt.

"The aroma of sex, and Ana. My drug," Christian growls.

"Mm-mm," I cry, as he slams me down on his erection. The friction, and noise he's generating from the punishing pace is incendiary, setting my insides on fire.

My walls constrict. "Fuck," Christian grunts, my core sucking him in like a vice grip. He loses control, and as every muscle in me tightens, with a chorus of high-pitched babbling, and expletives we come. Hard

Whimpering, I slouch against his chest. "That was-" Christian yanks my hair almost out of my scalp wrenching my head back. He then crushes his mouth to mine, dominating my mouth with his tongue, and I give him my full submission, even as I struggle to replenish the oxygen to my brain.

He lets go, and my head bobs. "Out of this world, is the description I think you were searching for," Christian rasps, at the same time, I deliberately clench my walls around his semi-erect cock. "Oh shit Anastasia. Fuck." His head lobs forward. "Whoa. Damn. Baby. Where did you learn that?" I discount the throwaway line, and savor the balance of power from what I can do to him.

Smiling, I push his unruly hair from his face. "No. Mind blowing," I purr.

"That too," Christian mutters, "seeing I can barely open my eyes."

I giggle. "I can't either."

"It must be the air pressure, because sex with you is always an experience but that was something else."

"Does this mean I'm part of the mile-high club?"

"Definitely," he nods.

The intercom hums. "Mr. Grey, the tower is reporting some turbulence ahead. If you're not seated, please do so now, and Sir please remain seated the remainder of the flight. We should be arriving at San Francisco International airport in about 20 minutes," the Captain says.

"That's why I didn't have us undress." Christian pushes my limp body back, and he adjusts my top. "There's a full bathroom through that door. Can you stand?"

"Not, really."

He chuckles. "I'll clean up across the aisle." Christian assists me to my feet, and automatically my thighs press together. Somehow my panties remained intact, but it is soaked with his cum. "If it weren't urgent that we get back to our seats, I'd do something about that. I'd make you stand there, and I'd watch as my cum seep out of you, stream all the way down those long toned legs to those sexy high heels." He says, shimming my skirt over my hips. It's official, he's corrupted me, I found that unapologetically lewd commentary erotic, and arousing.

I exit the bathroom, and Christian is waiting for me at the entrance to the bedroom dangling a panty. "I'm not going to ask." Crossing the cabin, I grab it from the end of his finger.

"Why do you think; I didn't remove your panties?"

"Who knows with you," I say, stepping into the sheer material.

"Did you think I'd let you out in public with no panties," he whispers to me as I step in the doorway. "That's only for my pleasure."

I pivot, and bump into Miss perfectly white teeth. "I'm so sorry. Miss Steele please forgive me for startling you," emphatically she apologizes, as Christian scolds her with his piercing eyes.

"What do you want Elise?"

"The captain, um, just. I mean." Stuttering she pauses to collect herself. "I wanted to offer my assistance-"

"Did I ask for your assistance? We're more than capable of making it the few feet to the front."

The resurgence of her wooden expression is complete, her poise is back. "Yes Sir, of course. A cool glass of water is waiting for you at your seats. If we hurry, you'll have enough time for a few sips, before I have to tidy the cabin, and have you return your trays back to their positions."

"Thorough," I mumble under my breath.

"It's her job," Christian responds, not particularly caring who hears, and I motion to him with my eyes. I wasn't expecting a response. It wasn't for public consumption. She has the good sense, or a hardy respect for her job not challenge him. However, she doesn't hold me in the same regard, her professionalism slips when she eyeballs me. Self-conscious, I check my hair, my clothes, then I jump to worst case scenario; she heard us, or worse yet she didn't, but is well acquainted with the den of sex, and I'm not the only one.

Elise collects our glasses. "I got it," I say sliding my tray table into place.

Christian stare at me. "What's wrong with you. You've been quiet since we sat down," he says, as Elise scurries down the hall.

"How many Christian."

"I've never had sex with anyone, on this aircraft, if that's what you're asking."

"How many of them have flown with you. On. This. Aircraft?"

"None, but Sam has." I face the window. "Anastasia it was business," he says. "Baby. Please look at me."

"I'm fine Christian." I rest the side of my head against the glass. "Give me a moment. I've made peace with your concubine, but Sam is different. She wasn't one of them"

"Anastasia, my life didn't begin until you, those women don't matter."

The plane drops, and any thoughts of Sam fades. "Oh God!"

Christian rubs my hand. "Don't be scared. Remember what I told you."

After the rough patch, the Captain finds smooth air for the remainder of the flight. When we deplane, a limo, and driver are waiting for us. Mr. Taylor helps us into the back, and he joins driver in the front seat. "This is new."

"It's a quick in and out trip, wasn't worth the hassle of renting an SUV, so we ditched our normal protocol," Christian says, and he presses the button for the privacy screen. "I might have to consider investing in one of these-"

"A limo?"

"No. Privacy screen."

"Any particular reason." His gaze lowers, and I follow his eyes to the tent in his pants. I grimace. "Nooo."

He undoes his seatbelt, removes his jacket, and hustling across the seat he undoes my safety belt. Smirking Christian hovers over me. "Want to rethink that answer," he mutters as he slides my coat off one shoulder.

The limo rolls to stop in front of a quaint brick building covered in Ivey. It's charming, but rather bland considering its Michelin Guide status. "That was fast," I say knotting the belt on my trench coat.

"Baby, you were preoccupied. It was long enough for two fucks, and me to contemplate a third."

He's trying to get a rise out of me, but I'm not biting, instead I crane my neck, and peek over his shoulders out his window. "The view is more bucolic than Silicon Valley."

Christian adjusts his jacket. "The scenery is much more pleasant. We'll return, and you can experience it up close and personal instead of from your back-"

"Christian, must you always be so crass."

He gives the end of my belt a good-natured tug. "Baby, you're right. The South Bay has Silicon Valley, but it doesn't compare to Napa. Wine country is the heart of Northern California, and one of the main reasons people love San Francisco," he says, as Mr. Taylor and the driver opens our doors with synchronized precision. "Can you walk?"

A Mona Lisa smile creeps across my lips. "I'll manage."

A debonair middle-aged man, greets us on the sidewalk and escorts us inside via a private entrance. "Mr. Grey, you and your guest will be dining in here tonight. Mr. Keller sends his regards; with such a late notice he couldn't make the arrangement to be here in time. He's in New York."

"Thomas, and I spoke. His absence is understandable," Christian says.

"Thank you for your generosity," the man replies, "Here's our menu. It's not necessary, it's a souvenir you will be dining from the chef's menu. Now let me introduce you to the wait staff that will be attending to you, and your guest."

After filling our classes with fancy fizzy water, the team leaves us alone in the relatively cramp, but elegant dining space. "If this menu is any indication, this place must be expensive."

"Good thing, I can afford it." Christian smirks.

I inspect the oversized menu, made of invitation grade cardstock, and embossed in gold lettering. Pressing it to my chest, I lean across the edge of the table. "It's crowded." With my chin I motion to the packed main dining room behind the glass wall. "Reservations can't be that convoluted."

He takes a sip of water, and the beverage hypnotizes me as it travels down his throat forming that luscious lump at the base when he swallows. "It's not convoluted, it's firm," he says breaking my concentration, and I flip my hair behind my shoulders to regain my composure. "Two months to the day. I've never used it, when I want to dine I call Thomas, and he makes it happen. But from others, I understand it can be quite the ordeal, akin to calling into a radio station. Something else I've never done."

"Neither have I, but I've always wanted to," I say, and the Sommelier enters the room cutting our conversation short.

He approaches the table, pours Christian's wine, then he fills my glass with some hoighty- toighty pear cider. "To your new job." Christian raises his stemware in the air, and lifting mine I tap it. "Cheers."

"Thank you." I bring the glass to my lips. I was skeptical at first, but the expensive cider's taste is distinctively more refined than any I've had. Who knew cost mattered when it came to cider? I set the glass down on the table, and ogle him. "This is so extravagant Christian. I'm running out words to use to say thank you."

"The look plastered on your face is thanks enough." He sets his glass down. "After the first 100 million, the money is more about the power it affords you than the excesses it can buy you. Because of you I have a renewed appreciation for money's purchasing power. When I buy something for me, it's just something else. When I buy for you, it opens up a world of possibilities. I discovered my reason, for amassing the fortune I have."

I lay my arm flat across the table, and he locks his fingertips with mine. "I love you, Mr. Grey.

"End your search, you've found your words."

Our 11-course tasting meal was masterfully prepared, and the presentation was very aesthetic. Things were deconstructed, spun with sugar, or suspended in dry ice. Either way each dish was delectable proving why the enchanted eatery was once the top restaurant in the world, and at the same time mystifying me as to why it still isn't.

The driver drove the limo to the door, so we literally walked from the dining room, and climbed into the car. "The brochure."

"Um, can I put on my seatbelt first."

"Sorry. What you said about SIP, peeked my interest. I didn't realize they were delving into electronic publishing."

"Cool your jets, the idea is in its infancy. It's why Elizabeth Morgan is so eager to have me on board. To gather requirements- "Christian breaks in.

"Here's a thought. Don't work for SIP, don't work for GEH. Start your own company."

"Hold the checkbook. Just because I've reconsidered letting you invest, doesn't mean now. Let me finish my studies first."

"Baby, I dropped out of Harvard, and started a company with far less knowledge, and the substantial backing you will have."

My arm juts out, and I touch his hand. "Stop. I want to stay in my happy place."

"Your happy place huh?" Christian sends the privacy screen sailing, and removing his jacket, he starts fidgeting with his belt.

"What are you doing?"

Thrusting his hand inside his zipper, he unleashes his cock, and strokes the shaft from the tip to the root. "Bringing joy to your happy place."

After a marathon meal, the last thing I wanted to do was anything sexual. I wanted to slip out of the constructed jacket, kick off the lethal heels, unzip my constricting skirt, recline and let my stomach breathe. Instead I got on my knees on the floorboard of the limousine with the noble intentions of a quick, but satisfying blowjob, but as soon as my lips circle around his erection, eliciting a throaty moan from him a switch in me flipped.

Licking the last ribbon of cum from the slit, I peer up at him. Christian hooks his arm under my shoulders blades, lifting me to back on the seat next to him. "You, are a human marvel. For someone new to sex, you've conquered all facets. Now, let me return the favor."

"Gladly." I kiss him on the cheek. "Later. Right now I'm fatigued, and stuffed. I don't feel very sensual at the moment. Raincheck."

"Raincheck." He tucks himself back inside, and zips his slacks. "You do know you'd be sexy as hell regardless of size. You could be a house in a sack, and I'd find you fetching."

"Right. A brick house, maybe. I wouldn't want to test that theory. There isn't an overweight person in your orbit. Or an unattractive one come to think of it."

"Are you trying to say I'm shallow."

"Let's see. I saw the women in your office. Two of the women, you've slept with, and your housekeeper. I don't have to say it, you've proved it for me."

"Hope you included yourself in the bunch," he says.

The driver parks the limo close to the tarmac designated for private planes, and Christian doesn't wait he opens his door dragging me out with him. When we make it to the jetway, he stops and bending down he sneaks an arm behind my knees. I protest, but it isn't a deterrent, he scoops me up and carries me anyway."

Depositing me in my seat, he secures me in place, then he sits. "Would you like some water Mr. Grey?" My favorite Flight Attendant inquires.

"No, but some for my girlfriend."

"I don't want anything I'm not thirsty," I mutter.

"Anastasia-"

"Christian."

"2 sparkling waters, 1 coffee, 1 tea -bag out."

"Yes sir. Mr. Grey," Elise says, and she sashays down the aisle.

"Thanks for listening." His lips press together, but I can't resist, I lean in. "Add one more," I whisper.

"You made your point in the car. I get it. I'll meet with Human Resources in the morning, and we'll put some policies in place to rectify the situation." He's deadpan.

I giggle. "You do that," I say, "EEOC would greatly appreciate it."

"Now, you're wide eyes and bushy tail, in the car you were near death."

"Not really, I'm running on adrenaline." No warning, he folds his body over his seatbelt, grabs my legs, spins me in my seat, and props the gams across his lap.

He covers me with his jacket, leaving my shoes exposed. "I'm proud of you, you survived all day in these," he says, as one by one he removes the stylish, but crippling stilettos.

Barely, hardly leaves my lips, and the pads of his long fingers are sinking into my bare feet. My head lolls back tapping the window. "Awe. That's it. Heaven."

"Your legs are spectacular in heels. Next time stockings. The two go together. And because next to being naked, you in heels is my favorite thing. Every time you wear them, I promise to do this." Masterfully, he manipulates my feet, and closing my eyes I tune out the other guests, and shamefully moan like a whore losing her drawers.

The massage was so tantalizing, that when my eyes peel open, Christian is snaking his arm under me. "Where am I?"

"Bedroom. You fell asleep. I brought you back here, so you'd be more comfortable. But we're about to land." He throws my arm around his neck. "C'mon I'll carry you to the front."

In no time we're touching down in Seattle, but of course Christian doesn't let my feet do the same, he carts me to the SUV. I goggle at the lights dancing, and dotting the skyline. "Seattle, it's beginning to feel like home." Reflecting on my impending move, I press my forehead on the window. "For a while anyway," I say.

He caresses my hand. "Remind me again, how long is your Doctoral program?"

I shift in my seatbelt. "Are we going to litigate the business thing again.'"

"No."

"Two years, but I'm aiming to complete it in one, but most likely it will be 18 months."

"I'm hanging my hopes on one. I'll get you tutors if necessary, I can't be without you for that long."

I zone in on him, his gray eyes are so intense, they're penetrating the darkness. "Do you realize that part of your responsibility as the commencement speaker is to help present the degrees?"

"Yes, and you just figured this out."

"No. I don't know. It just hit me. How am I supposed to react to you?"

"The same way you would anyone else."

"Impossible. How do I stay calm, when the girls around me are going mad?"

"Anastasia, it's a graduation not a rock concert people will be more contained." The glow of the full moon lights the inside of the car, and for a split second a twinkle in his eyes is fully visible. "Trust me. You don't have to worry it will work out," he says.

* * *

I open my eyes, Christian isn't entwined around me like Ivey, or trying to pry my legs apart so stretch out, and I grimace. Downplaying the tenderness, I roll on my side, and spot a piece of paper on the bedside table. Carefully, I draw myself up, mindful of the subtle ache between my thighs, and I reach for it.

_Good morning my stiletto I only wear them because of you, I won't start my own company, I'm too tired, I'm too fat, all the women around you are beautiful, I hate Sam, and oh yeah the others too girlfriend._

Throwing my head back, I laugh uncontrollably at his silliness. It's a side of Christian I wish I could bottle, and pull out when he's unrecognizable.

_Don't be alarmed, I'm not there, but you're with me. You were sleeping so peacefully; I didn't have the heart to wake you. Be on alert Mia and mom are lurking, they want a raincheck for yesterday. I tried to pressure them to leave you alone with tales of how tired you were, but they wouldn't relent. However, if you're too exhausted please don't feel obligated to say yes. Call me when you're awake. I need to hear your voice, and you need to hear mine. C ._

Smiling I set the stationary back on the table, and my phone beeps. hastily, I retrieve it disturbing the note they're so close. "Hello," I croak, unable to remove the sleep from my throat in time. I'm disappointed it's not Christian, but my other favorite billionaire will do. "Good morning Damien."

"Drop the innocent act, I read you all wrong."

"What are you talking about?"

"You snagged Christian Grey." There's silence on my end. "You can't deny it; I have the proof."

"What proof."

"Don't be coy, I'm not part of the slow media. Some high-powered equipment, a crackerjack engineer, and in 10 seconds I'd uncovered your identity."

"If you suspected me, you could've called."

"I had no idea it was you. Didn't know he had a love interest. Frankly, I had no idea the man had a heart."

"Damien."

"Don't play his protector, I'm well acquainted with Christian Grey, we go way back."

"Really."

"Christian, Gideon, and I had the misfortune of being born extremely handsome-"

I chime in. "And humble."

"I'd hold my tongue if I were you."

"Hear that? It's me zipping my mouth shut."

"You, with Christian Grey, I'm not seeing it- you have a sense of humor," he says. "But the long and short of the story, we launched our careers at roughly the same time. The business community was eager to crown their next corporate superstar, and they found him in the three of us- good-looking, young, and hungry entrepreneurs anxious to pave a new path. We were a marketing dream. Quickly the press saddled us with the moniker the Golden Boys of Business, and because of our youth, and cockiness we believed the hype and formed a friendship. But in the end, our relationship proved to be more transactional than transformative. When our careers exploded into fledgling empires, our egos grew, and soon we drifted apart. Grey was the first to launch his company, thus he was the first to catapult to the top, and the first to distance himself."

"This is news to me, and I've done extensive research into Grey Enterprises- "

"It was a long time ago, and short lived. It didn't warrant being captured in the history books. Ask Grey-"

"Damien, I have a call waiting." I pull the phone down, and have to study the screen. "I need to take this."

"Sure. One more thing. Real reason for call. Can't make graduation." The words tumble out of his mouth.

"Okay. Kate. Really wants an interview," I say just as quickly

"Have her call me after graduation."

"Great." I end the call, but when I click over the, waiting caller is gone. Just as I wondered what he wanted, his names reappear on the screen.

"Ana. It's been a long time."

"What do you want Jose?"

"To apologize." A resentment I didn't realize I'd been harboring surfaces, I'm forced to recall the sound advice of a charlatan.

"Jose, I hope you understand that I will forgive you, but we can't have any type of relationship. After you'd attacked me, I'd spent the months following blaming myself. Doubting myself. Questioning why you were going out of your way to avoid me when you were the guilty party. I blamed myself for everything. Finally, I'm in a good place. I'm not carrying that burden or guilt anymore.

"It's why I called. You deserve the truth. Believe me, I wish I didn't have to make this call, but you're the only person that can help me. I really want to go my graduation. Not for me, but for pappi"

"Go. I won't say anything to Mr. Rodriguez."

"It's not you I'm afraid of." He pauses. "It's Mr. Grey."

"Christian?"

"Yes."

I'm drained when I hang up from Jose. I sit with my thoughts before rushing to GEH and strangling that boyfriend of mine. After a few minutes, Kates invades my troubled mind. I decide to call her, sharing positive news is just the thing to change my mood.

* * *

**Kate POV**

"Why are you whispering?"

Cautiously, I throw the sheet back, and sneak out of bed. When I'm standing I tiptoe to the bathroom. "There is that better?" I say as I tap the door to the frame.

"It is. But you're not fooling me, you're not alone. Guess I don't have to ask how's Hawaii."

"Hawaii, is Hawaii. And yes I'm having fun. I don't have a boyfriend I'm allowed"

"Kate chill, I wasn't making a judgment. I'm kinda jealous."

"Why? You have your dream man."

"Okay. I'm not sure what's with the snippiness. So, before this conversation takes a turn to the unnecessary, I'm just going to get to it. Damien Stark is going to grant you an exclusive interview. He said to call his office after graduation."

I cover my mouth choking back my excitement. "Awesome. Thank you. What fairy dust did you sprinkle on him?"

She giggles, and just like that I'm forgiven. "I asked."

"I owe you one. This interview may garner me a promotion on my first day."

"Or the first of many Pulitzers."

"Don't get crazy," quietly I chuckle. " Hey, before we hang up let me apologize."

"We're good Kate, we're all under some kind of stress."

I sit back on the edge of the sink. "What has that asshole done now?"

"Kate, I called with good news, let's leave it at that. You're on your vacation. Don't worry about me, I'm fine. Christian is great."

"If you say so. Take care of yourself. We'll talk later." Ending the call, I inch the door back, and tiptoe through the crack.

"How's Ana."

"Ugh." My hand flies up covering my heart. "You scared me. I thought you were asleep."

"How. Is. Ana?" Blankly, I stare at him. "That was Ana. Right?"

My hand slips from my chest, and I glance at the phone. "Yes."

"Is something wrong?"

"You're off duty. We're in this oasis. In a hotel room alone. And you want to talk about her?" I comb my hand through my hair. "Ana, is perfectly fine. And if she wasn't she has Christian. Who do you have?" I stomp up to him, smash the phone in the middle of his chest plate, and hold it there. "If you don't trust me, call her your damn self!" Storming past him, I bump his shoulder. There's a thump on the floor, and his hand catches my wrist.

He almost yanks my arm out of the socket, and I collide with his muscular chest. He squeezes my head between his hands, and astounding me he crushes his mouth to mine. His tongue forces a seam between my lips and penetrates my mouth. He thrusts it deeper down my throat, and tripping over my phone, we stagger off balance as he shoves me up against the bathroom door, slamming it closed. The desperation in his kiss pins me to the floor

Luke withdraws, but I pull him in, biting his bottom lip, sucking his tongue, intensifying his prior fervor. Spiking the temperature on the fire fueling his rage, I weave my arms under his shoulder blades, crushing his body to mine, granting him the permission to engulf me in his flames.


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter 50:** Pomp and Circumstance- Monday

**Disclaimer: **FSOG belongs to EL James

**A/N **Sorry this was coming out this weekend, but I caught up in the debate. Thank you for reading, reviewing, and following - Enjoy - And ignore all grammatical mistakes - please

The door floats back from out of her hand. Christian's head pops up. His eyes zero in on the brewing frustration in his doorway- Andria, and I vying for position, and his attention. He starts rising. "Roz, let's talk later. A skirmish is breaking out in my-" He pauses in mid-sentence. The phone hovering at his ear, Christian breaks his stride. "No. I can handle it." The handset rattles in the cradle, as he rounds the desk.

"Mr. Grey, I tried to stop her," Andria blurts out. I shudder at her audacity, and stupidity.

His tepid expression, hardens lightening quick. "Andria. Her, has a name. Let me repeat it for you one more time. My girlfriend." He goes on to admonish her, and I cringe as she shrivels right in front of me. His nonverbal cues were telling, but I didn't expect him to verbally eviscerate her. Christian, holds his Executive Assistant in the highest esteem, and speaks glowingly of her so her suicide mission is unexplainable.

Her regret is immediate, the shame palpable. "Of, course Mr. Grey." Andria is contrite. "Miss Steel." Slinking back, in a conciliatory gesture she nods her head at me, and my ugly human nature response is to cut my eyes at her. Normal, and understandable considering the circumstances, but not an accurate representation of my feelings.

"Whoa. Remind me not to make you mad." Tugging me inside the office, Christian taps the door and it closes. "I'll, have a sit down with her. Review protocol so this doesn't happen again." He flips my hair behind my shoulders.

"Don't. You were firm. Scolding her in front of me was punishment enough."

He searches my face. "I said to call." He toys with my hair. His obsession with it, is sometimes maddening. "You didn't have to come by. I'm thrilled. Taylor, didn't inform me that he was picking you up-"

"I drove."

The broad smile he's wearing, morphs into an angry scowl. "What!" He drops his hand. "Are you insane! You realize the danger you put yourself-"

"Why didn't you tell me about Jose?" He wasn't going to excoriate me, when I'm locked and loaded.

Backpedaling, Christian cups the edge of his desk, and leans on the front of it.

**_Flashback _**

_"He's coming now Sir." _

_"You wait here Jason."_

_"Are you sure Mr. Grey."_

_"Yes." Flinging the door back, I step from the SUV, stunning the unsuspecting asswipe. _

_"Christian Grey," he sputters, and stutters._

_Just to toy with him, I fidget with my cufflinks. "Just this once I'm going to let you swallow the foot in your mouth instead of stuffing it down your throat, and pulling it out the other end, because I'm certain you're overwhelmed right about now. But let's get this straight, I'm Mr. Grey to you, that is if I allow you to use my name at all. It was very evident at the photo shoot, that you had a problem with me-"_

"_You were hitting on my girlfriend."_

_"Did you just interrupt me?" His eyes drop, and the power emboldening me soars to new heights when he demonstrates he's more of a bitch than my Submissive. "Girlfriend. I'd find that charming, if I didn't feel sorry for you. You pathetic asshole. You're not worthy to scrape the gum off the bottom of her converse, less more man enough to be her boyfriend."_

_His eyes zoom up, and they flash with fury. I'm impressed, he's showing some fight. "And you are?"_

_I step into his chest. "Comparing yourself to me is a false equivalency, in the same way, I led you to believe that this was a two-sided discussion. My bad. You know why I'm here?" I can smell the fear on his breath, hear his heart pounding in his chest, and feel the very air he's breathing begging me for mercy. Or forgiveness. Instead, I violate his personal space further, reinforcing our height difference, bolstering my power over him. _

_"No." His voice is strong, forcible even, but inside his overpriced, imported designer sneakers he's trembling. _

_"Too bad. Your life depends on it." He gulps, and I can't help it, I snigger in his face. "How does the fear feel? Remember it, the next time you decide to attack a woman. You're lucky you're not in jail. You're lucky you're not eating the gravel right now. You're even luckier, you're not at the bottom of the sound. But your luck has finally run out. You will not touch Anastasia again. You will not be in her presence. You will not cross her path. Ever. When you see her on the street, you will go to the other side. If you have a class with her, you will drop it. If she crosses your mind, you'll change it. And in case your small pea brain, is calculating how I would know. Don't test me." He glances at the car. "And don't get confused by his presence, my tailored suits, or manicured fingers, because I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty. I live for it. Translation I will kill you myself, or worse make you wish you were dead." Pivoting, I slide my sunglasses on._

_"What about graduation," he hollers, "we're graduating at the same time."_

_"Oh well. I guess you're shit out of luck." Removing the sunglasses, I slide inside the back of the SUV._

"I'm not apologizing Anastasia."

"And I'm not asking you to."

He crosses his arm in front of his chest, at the same time he crosses his legs at the ankles. "Then why are you foaming at the mouth."

"I'm disappointed you didn't tell me. That you went against my wishes. And yet again, you used your power for bad- manipulating, and controlling someone's life. The rest of us weren't put on this earth to be used as pawns, for your amusement. Be killed or destroyed, can't be your resolution to every problem Christian. There has to be a middle ground-"

He bolts from the desk. "There's no middle ground when it comes to you."

"My safety, doesn't give you the unalienable right, to impede on someone else's constitutional rights. You're not God, and you're not above the law. You cannot control where he goes, or what he does, he's a free man, and in my world freedom is free."

Christian rolls his eyes. "Anastasia, he touched what is mine."

"Jose's attending Graduation Christian."

"I should've killed him when I had the chance."

"That's what I mean. As loving and well-intended your intentions are, your obsession with the misogynistic sentiment, 'what is mine', is demeaning to me, and crippling to you. It blocks you from seeing me as a person, woman, or your equal. It will always give you the excuse to behave in a boorish manner. I've been complicit, allowing you to believe I was content with being your property. Yes, I want to be yours. I like being yours." I press my hand on his chest. "In your heart. Not in there." With my chin, I gesture to his head.

Christian pinions my wrist. "You're not my equal. You're better than me."

"I'm not better than you. We're cut from the same cloth; I just wear mine differently." I peel his hand away, and remove my hand. "I never wavered in my support for you, and I was very clear that he's to stay out of my life. Plus, you don't have to worry, the likely hood of seeing each other at the ceremony is slim to none." My phone beeps. "It's Lulu, I need to get this."

"Go. You sit at the conference table."

Scrambling in the direction of Christian's eyes, I press talk. "Lulu."

"Snow. Sweetie, it's so great to hear your voice. In a few days you're going to be graduating from college. I don't think I'm going to survive."

"Oh no." Pulling out the head chair, I plop down and a prop an elbow on the polished wood. "That wistful tones, tells me that we're going into big chocolate curls, doe eyes, and porcelain doll territory."

"I will never forget the first time I saw you. You were the baby doll, I always wanted, but never got come to life."

"Don't do it Lulu, it's only going to make you weep more."

"Sweetie, I know we have lots to talk about, but can it wait until after the graduation, I want to savor this moment..." She pauses.

"Yes. I'm quite emotional myself." There's a pregnant pause.

"I saw in you everything I wanted to be, but knew I never could achieve. I pinned all my hopes onto you. That one day...you'd reach the stars. It is why, I protected you so fiercely. I'd lay down my life for you Snow White."

I sniff. "I know. I can't wait to see you. I've missed you sooo much."

"I'd been thinking I'd settle down. Boston. Maybe. In recent years I've missed so much of your life, I don't want to miss anymore. I could get us a cute bungalow not too far from campus. It would be like old times, but better- we'd have a roof over our heads, and food to eat," she chuckles.

"That's the picture of a dream come true, but my life has changed. A lot-"

"There's a man. You're back with Luke."

"This isn't the time; I'll explain it to you when I see you."

"It's going to have to wait a little longer. I won't be able to make in a day ahead like we'd talked about. The best I can do is later that evening, but for sure I'll be there for graduation."

Lulu, and I strategize how we're going to meet up. Finalizing the plans, I end the call, and stuffing the cell in the pocket of my jeans I clear the divider. "I won't lie; I was furious at you." Christian wheels around from the bank of windows, and face me. "Partly, the reason I was insanely stupid, and careless, but I needed to see you. Not to berate you, or chastise you. I can't condone what you did, but I get it. I. Get. It."

He untucks his hands from his pockets. "Get what?"

I come to a standstill in front of him. "Since you reappeared, I've struggled with understanding how you could go from complete disdain to an undying love for me. Well in some sick way, this ugly episode was the key. Things clicked. You loved me then, so I can better accept that you love me now."

He cups the side of my face. "I guess I owe him, if in some fucked up way he's brought you to my side, I can let go of the anger."

* * *

**Portland**

"Are you okay." Christian locks the door.

The tips of my fingers, skim the top of the sofa, draped with a drop cloth. "Yes. Kate's absence, coupled with the emptiness in the apartment is forcing me to come to terms with the end of this part of my life."

From behind, he encapsulates my waist in his arms. "You do know, what's in store for you is going to be so much better." Christian rests his chin on the top of my head.

I tilt my eyes up. "I know." I loosen his arms. "So, let me do the final sweep of my room, and we can get the party started." I step out of his embrace.

"I'm sorry your Lulu can't make it; I was looking forward to meeting her."

Prancing, I peek over my shoulder. "Don't be too disappointed, you'll see her tomorrow. Tonight if we're lucky."

Gripping the doorframe, I stare into the nearly bare room, inspecting the corners, my bed, and the wall I once designated as the baby's spot. Sighing deeply, I let go, and crossing the threshold, I scramble to bed that is just a frame, and the mattress. Falling on my knees, I dig between the two components, dragging out the birthday cards from Luke, I'd stashed away. Flopping to my butte, I lean my back against the bed, and peruse each, reminding myself of the brief, but fiery love affair. Then ripping the cards to pieces, I destroy the documented memories of it.

Sprinkling the scraps into the waste basket, I glance at the door, and empathic gray eyes greet me. "Feel better."

Pressing my palms to the floor, I start to lift. "Yes. Actually I do. I needed to get the bed sorted out, before Mr. Taylor has it taken out of here." Christian helps me to my feet. "Cleaning between the mattress. You know things like that."

"I don't know, but I'll trust you. Take your word for it." Happily, he assists me with dusting off my rear-end. "So, are you done. Are you ready to go?"

"I'm so done." I smack my hands back and forth. "And I'm so ready to get out of here."

"Good. Luke's bringing my family to the hotel. Mom, and dad are sorry Ray won't be able to make lunch."

"He sends his apology, but he's going to do his best to get here for dinner. He's looking forward to seeing your mother again, and getting to know your dad."

"Disappointed, Lulu won't be there either. What are you doing about her ticket?"

"Why the sudden fascination with Lulu?"

"It's not sudden. You've known for a while that I'm anxious to meet her. If for no other reason, then to thank her for helping you."

"She did more than help, she was my lifeline. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for her. I will forever be grateful to her." I sniff. "Jesus. All this crying is killing me. I get sentimental at the drop of a hat, how am I going to survive tomorrow?"

Chuckling, Christian reaches inside his jacket for his handkerchief. "I have no idea."

I dab at my eyes. "Anyways, if I had my druthers she'd be here now, but I'm hoping for dinner; however, realistically it won't be until tomorrow. And I'm leaving her ticket at will call."

The prior weeks were filled with so much razzle-dazzle, that Christian has kept my graduation festivities subdued. Yesterday, we had lunch in his suite with his family. Dinner that night, was at a very pedestrian restaurant. So, he rented the entire space for the evening, but for Christian it was a low key affair. For me it didn't matter where we were, the joy in my heart from watching him interact with his family was touching, and revelatory. There's so much love, it overwhelmed his heart's capacity, choking it. In some cruel twist of fate, he mistook the overflow as a lack of love, and an example of his dead heart.

Since Ray, and Kate were unable to make any of the festivities, we're sharing a celebratory breakfast with them. The spread is enough to feed the entire hotel, fortunately we had the foresight to make arrangements with the local food bank to pick up the leftovers, and Christian put them in contact with the hotel manager to make the arrangement permanent. In addition he gave a substantial gift of money. Out of all the fabulous things, he has done, and given to me, that act of kindness was the most generous.

"More Coffee Mr. Grey?"

"No." The young woman moves on to Ray.

"So, Ana did you say goodbye to the kids at the center?" Kate says.

I swallow the mouth full of French toast. "Not yet. I didn't have the heart. I'll do it before I go to Boston, I should have control of my emotions by then." Dipping another piece of toast, into the maple syrup, I inquire about her parents.

"You know mom, she's excited, and dad. Well. He's dad. But they both can't wait to see you. They have a gift for you. They were going to send it with me, but I told them to save it. Give to you, themselves."

"Oh, that's so sweet. But they didn't have to."

"Ana, please. If my parents could they would trade me for you."

"Smart people." Water spews from Ray's mouth, as he tries not to laugh at Christian's childish antics.

Retrieving my glass, from the waitress, I admonish both of them. "Ana is right Christian, Kate has been a great friend to her. If it weren't for Kate and Lulu, I can't say Ana would be here." Ray offers the staunchest support of Kate I've ever heard.

"Ray you know Lulu. So, she isn't some person Anastasia made up-"

Kate cuts Christian off. "No, that would be you." She said it under her breath, so I'm not convinced it was meant for our ears.

Christian glowers at her, putting an end to my hopes of a drama free weekend. After the dust had settled, somehow I ended up with Ray, and for some reason today of all days, he's chosen to be an extremely cautious driver, and a chatty father.

Pressing my foot down in the floorboard of the passenger side, I floor the car. "Ray. On the heel of what has happened to you, I hate asking you to speed up. But I don't want to be late or worse yet miss my own graduation. I've already lost the alone time with Christian."

"When did you become so needy. He'll be fine."

I twist in my seat belt. "When did you become this." I splay my arms in front of him.

"When I realized that despite my failings, and shortcomings I'd managed to raise a daughter that is self-sufficient, thoughtful, beautiful, and these are the least of her good qualities. Kiddo your perseverance, and steadiness during the most daunting period of your life, brings a cantankerous old man like me to his knees. You don't need any man to validate your worth, but if you are absolutely positively sure that Christian is the man for you to love, then I'm behind you 100%."

"I don't know what the future holds-"

With his free hand, Dad rests his hand on my thigh. "Don't worry about the future. Right now. What is your heart telling you?"

"I know you'd been holding out hope for Luke, and me."

"Ana." He squeezes my thigh. "Your heart. What is it telling you? Whose name makes it flutter."

I cup his hand. "You dad," I sniff, "you're the only man that makes my heart skip a beat."

The car rolls to a stop, and sliding his hand back, Ray puts it in park. "Your mother should be here. You should be having this talk with her."

"You're here, you're all I need."

"I'd never apologized to you. Not sufficiently anyways. I'm so sorry I didn't fight for you. For her - I'd underestimated competing with a ghost. She's never recovered from the death of your birthfather."

"I don't need an apology, you did right by me Raymond Steel."

"Don't think too harshly of your mother. She's still chasing that ghost."

"I don't. Not anymore."

"I love you. But I gave you the minimum requirement as a father. I provided you shelter, food, and clothing, but I left your higher needs to professionals. I didn't give you the love, and support you deserved."

"You'd more than made up for it these past months."

"What you did for me when I was sick, was far more than I deserved from you."

"Ray, fathers and daughter don't tally what they do for each other, that's petty, not real love. They cherish, and delight in being able to."

He sets my cap on top of my head, moving the tassel to the side. "You, should get going." He points behind me with his chin.

"I'm already late a few seconds won't matter." Sitting forward, I wipe the moisture from his cheeks. "There. No more tears," I sniffle.

"Eh, I'm not crying. Old Soldiers don't cry."

"No, they don't." I plant a kiss on his damp cheeks, and holding on to my hat I open my door.

Ray grabs my arm. "How many of these moments did I miss in your life."

"It doesn't matter, you're here now."

"You have a wonderful life in store for you kiddo, and I'm going to be rooting you on every step of the way," Ray murmurs, "who makes your heart flutter?"

I smile. "Christian."

He winks at me. "Get going."

Anchoring the cap to my head, with my fingers, I leap from the truck, and soon as my feet hit the ground, I race across the courtyard to the entrance of the auditorium. And then suddenly a sentimental force so strong it draws me around. Just like my first day of school, he's waiting for me to go inside the building and my mom isn't. "Good you're here." A disembodied voice interrupts my Kodak moment.

Snorting, I give him a small wave, and in the distance I see Ray's arm in the air, and I disappear into the building. "Is my group gone."

"Long gone. Can't you tell? The music is playing. The students are marching in. You're here in the nick of time."

"This is the end of the line," I whisper

"You have a better idea?" The graduate advisor mouths.

Zipping up my robe, I come to grips with my position, and it shocks me to spot a paparazzi still mulling around. I'd thought they'd all be inside the main event by now, so paranoia sets in. I chastise myself for the ponytail, but my uneasiness is without merit, the young man whizzes by me doing his job, taking exterior shots of the ceremony.

Parked in the doorway, I scour the standing room only crowd for my contingency. But I can't find anyone, instead I'm drawn to the press lining the walls, and the edge of the floor. I don't recall this large of a media presence at prior graduations, then again there's never been a speaker of Christian's celebrity. As we march in, I eye the stage discerning the difference, and somehow I make it to my seat without tripping on my robe, or my neighbors.

The parade of speakers, and faculty commence, and for the first time I'm jealous that Kate is the one giving the magna cum laude address. It's not an issue of intelligence, Kate is smart a cookie; she's acutely aware why she's on that stage, and not me. I'm getting a postgraduate, and a graduate degree, essentially the overachievement nullified me as a candidate for the prestigious honor. Regardless, my motives are purely covetous, I'm envious of her proximity to Christian. Then she takes to the podium, owns the stage, and all that nonsense goes out the door. She's poised, the speech is delivered with confidence, and the levity sprinkled throughout the more thought provoking texts gets the reactions she was going for. People laughed, when it was appropriate, and stayed silent when they were supposed to.

Kate collects her iPad, returning to her seat, and the chancellor takes her place at the podium. He gives Christian an arousing introduction. Standing, he buttons his jacket and to rapturous applause Christian struts to the lectern. The young lady next to me tilts her head my way. "He's so handsome. If there's someone better looking I want to see him," she whispers in my ear.

I beam with pride, and under my robe, and blue Victoria Beckham dress my chest pokes out like a peacock. "My boyfriend."

Shrugging her shoulders, she gives me a dismissive snort and unceremoniously pivots to her neighbor on her right. Which is fine with me, I want to bask in his glow, so as the applause gradually dies down I focus on the big screen. His well-coifed hair, is perfectly messy, not a strand out of place, the hue in his midnight blue suit highlights the cobalt in the depth of his intense gray eyes. The crisp white shirt, is framing his angular jaw handsomely, and the gray tie he uses to bound my hands from time to time is the subtle reminder that he his mine is setting the look off. Captivated by his beauty, grace, and stirring oration, the audience hangs on his every word. Christian concludes the speech, with words of motivation, inspiration, and aspiration for the graduates from a few of his favorite philosophers- Martin Luther King Jr., Aristotle, Sun Tzu, and Gandhi.

Under the roar of applause, and a standing ovation, he strolls back to his seat. He, crosses path with the Chancellor returning to the podium. Dr. Nance, waits for the clapping to end, and then he requests that the first department receiving their degrees remain standing. Sitting, I twiddle with my fingers, impatiently waiting for my turn. Craning my neck, I peek over the sea of black caps, and estimate it could be hours, so mentally I prepare to accept my degree from Christian. Then seemingly, in no time at all, an usher appears next to me, getting the row into the queue. The urgency of the moment paralyzing me, I berate myself for not taking practice more seriously, putting my trust in Christian's positive remarks instead.

The line moves. Once separated by nearly a thousand graduates, and as many minutes we're finally down to one person, and one moment. I have to control my heart palpations to prevent a full blown panic attack, still irritation at the young woman ahead of me lingering more than her allotted time seeps in. I want to barge in, but my courteous nature yields, and I simmer in silence. Then finally she accepts her diploma from Christian, leaving us face to face. I exhale, bury my heels into the floor, and ball my hands into fists keeping myself grounded, and from flinging my body at him. And just as I have the process worked out in my head, the Chancellor throws a wrench in it by grabbing my diploma, and stepping back with it. Mystified, I stare into Christian's face, but his expression is solemn, and then out of nowhere the beautiful metallic lilth of a piano fills the auditorium, and from something out of a dream sequence, the black velvet drapes slowly glide back revealing Gary LeVox from Rascal Flats behind a baby grand.

My knees wobble, and telegraphing my unsteadiness Christian covertly seizes my elbow. "What is this?" Volts out of my mouth just as Mr. LeVox belts out the first line of _Bless The Broken Road_. The crowd goes wild- they came for a graduation and a private concert breaks out. Then inexplicably the music fades into the background, and with it, in an eerily spooky kind of the way the pandemonium ceases to a murmur.

Confused, but mesmerized by the fluttering of his too long lashes, I gaze intently at him. "You always said it was the broken road that led us to each other. I thank God every day, that he led me to you. Well. You already have my heart." His eyes flit to the ceiling, and naively I stand there waiting for him to complete his infamous quote. Alerted only by the oohs, ahas does my head zooms upward. "Here are the flowers," Christian continues at the same time one colorful stem after another taps me on the nose free falling to the floor. The unimaginable number of bloom cascading from the ceiling floating to the ground must be an ethereal scene to the onlookers, because it is like a fairytale to me.

As the profusion of flowers amasses at my feet, I identify many as the wildflowers from his meadow, mixed in with the commercial blossoms of the exotic variety. The aroma is pungent, and I wonder if the perfumed scent is wafting to the audience's nostrils so they can smell that the blooms are as aromatic as they are beautiful.

Facing forward, over Christian's shoulders I make eye contact with Kate. Paler than I must be she mouths, "Oh. My. Gawd." Over, and over.

My hands are shaking uncontrollably; it is his steadiness securing them. The corners of his mouth have turned his secret smile, into a genuine one that connects with the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. The flashes from the cameras are blinding, but they're no match for the sparkle in his dancing gray orbs. Christian opens his mouth, and as if he's issued a command the raucous crowd closes theirs. If it weren't for the clicking, you'd be able to hear a pin drop. "Where do I start. The beginning is logical, but something persistently draws me to the end. You. Me. On a swing, under a big oak tree, watching our great, great, great. Great." The audience lets lose a hardy laugh. "Great-grandchildren playing in the meadow, a cool breeze kissing our cheeks, closing our eyes, and together we go to that sweet place where love never dies. Because of God in her infinite wisdom..." Through the tears, I smile at the inside joke. "knows, I couldn't roam this earth without you. You are the alpha, and omega. My world begins and ends with you." There's a collective gasp from the audience, swooning all at once.

I sniff, my heart swelling with love, and adoration. "Oh Christian." He slides one hand from mine wiping the streaming water from my cheeks, leaving the unladylike snot to trickle from my nostrils.

"My life didn't begin in earnest until you, and it will end with you. Every day, you inspire me, challenge me, and fill me with passion. You're my salvation, my truth, and the love of my life. I will love you until, and through eternity. You're loved more than the dollar signs attached to my name. More than from here and to the moon and back. More than what's defined in the dictionary as more. And know, my eyes will always light up when you walk into a room. I love you baby."

Fidgeting in panic, I blow out the air from my cheeks, as Christian reaches inside the breast pocket of his jacket. The riveted crowd erupts into choruses of screams, gasps, moans, groans, sobbing, and I even think there's are thuds from women fainting. And a few men too. It is so loud, I can hardly hear, or sense that I'm thinking at all, so much so, I miss him getting down on one knee. But the audience doesn't. In anticipation, the shrill lowers to a deafening silence that's disturbed only by the mad clicking, and flashing of the cameras.

I press my hand to my chest. "Is this happening," I whisper.

Uncharacteristically, animated flirtatiously he bobs his head up and down, and flips the top of the black box up unveiling the largest diamond I've seen in my life. "Anastasia Rose Steele, will you marry me." I stare in his vicinity, but my mind is once again blank.

The crowd comes to my rescue. Again. The hushed tone grows into a crescendo of chants of say yes, as if they're at a sporting match, or invited participants at a dinner theater. So, cobbling my fractured mind together, I bend down and take his face in my hands. "Yes," I simper. Standing upright, my hands fall away, and Christian retrieves one slipping the massive rock onto my ring finger. He then comes to his feet, and trampling the bed of flowers, he wraps his arm around me swinging me in circles.

He whispers in my ear. "Okay, I'm going to set you on your feet. We'll need to make a mad dash, before the vultures descend."

Mr. Taylor, Reynolds, and Luke rush to encircle us, and as they hurriedly escort us out of the auditorium, Gary LeVox serenades the audience, with _God Bless the Broken Road_, and a smile creeps across my face when the crowd joins in with him.

"Karaoke." Christian leans into me. "I didn't plan that." He's deadpan.

I giggle. "It's cute."

We reach the door to a room designated as our holding area, and as security huddles Christian tugs me to the side. "Leave your cap and gown on, I want to take them off."

I nod, and we reconvene with the team. Mr. Taylor opens the door, and we're besieged by family, and friends. Mia is bawling, Dr. Grace simpering, Elliot is wearing a goofy grin, and Mr. Gray is lurking in the background. My eyes dart around the room for Ray, but I'm distracted by Mia staggering into her brother's arms, and her mother hauling me into an embrace. "Christian that was sooo romantic. I can't." I overhear Mia saying to him. I'm too busy eavesdropping to properly digest Dr. Grace's well wishes.

"I'm glad it meant your romantic threshold," Christian responds.

"You exceeded it," Mia whimpers, and when Dr. Grace whispers something about finally being her daughter my ears perk up, and I give her my undivided attention.

"Didn't think of it that way, but you're right. I'm gaining a whole new family."

"Not so fast," Ray interrupts, "you're still my little girl."

Dr. Grace Chortles. "That she is." She loosens her grip on me. "Ray we missed you last night, but we'll get together soon to discuss the wedding-"

"That's fine with me Grace. Long as you everyone knows this is my only daughter, and I will pay for her wedding. I don't care how much money there is among the lot of you."

Dr. Grace pats dad on the forearm. "Relax Ray, I have no intentions of usurping your fatherly duties-"

Audibly he sighs. "It's not you I'm worried about," Dad quips.

"With that I'm going to leave you two, and go steal my handsome son away from the rest of my family."

Dr. Grace steps away, and Ray takes her place. "Dad I'm more than fine with a low-key wedding, but a Christian Grey affair, isn't for the faint of heart."

He smirks. "Good thing I'm military strong." I cock my head to the side. "And I'd been saving all my life for this."

I lean back in his arms. "Really." He gives me a rare full-toothed smile. "You knew didn't you?"

"Of course I did. The young man did his due diligence, he asked me for your hand, and I said yes. He's where you belong. It's where your heart is."

"What makes you so sure."

"What did he say? 'He'll light up when you walk into a rom.' He already does, and it's mutual."

"I do. He makes me happy dad. The question is, does happiness equals love." I fix the lapels on the only suit jacket he owns. "Have you seen Kate she's not in here."

"Yes. Right outside the door, she was talking to Luke."

I lay my head on his chest. "I'm not looking forward to facing him."

"Kiddo, don't go there, don't let that ugly sorted mess cloud your day. Besides, he only wants what's best for you." Ray rests the side of his face on top of my head. "Don't know if it equals, but you can't true love without it," he mumbles, and I hug him tighter.

"I hate to interrupt this father-daughter moment." Ray's head pops up, and his arms slide away. "But Mr. Steele I desperately want to congratulate your daughter," Miss Jones pleads.

"By all means." Dad relinquishes his post to Miss Jones.

"I never thought I'd live to see this day -Mr. Grey so happy. I'm like Mia, I tear up every time I think about his poignant words. Congratulations sweetheart."

"Thank you. I didn't realize you were here, but I'm glad you were able to make it."

"I came in this morning. I'd already planned to be here to support you on your graduation day, but as soon, as Jason told what was going to happen, I knew I couldn't miss it."

"That's so thoughtful-"

Elliot breaks in. "Gail, let me get in here, before Christian whisks his soon to be bride away," he says.

Chuckling Miss Jones releases me. "Here you go, Elliot."

"Can I call you sis now?"

"If I can call you bro." I mutter through my giggles.

"Why not. Seriously, I scripted this ending. I always knew you two would make it here. Now, hopefully someone else will realize it too."

Inwardly, I cringe. "Like who?" Before he can reply, Christian is lugging me out of his arms.

"Sorry, Elliot, but we have to get going. We have a small window of opportunity, before we're surrounded by paparazzi."

"Wait. Christian have you seen Lulu?"

"Baby, I don't know what she looks like, and we have to go." Christian is adamant, but I drag him to Ray.

"Dad, have you seen Lulu?"

"No. She never came to her seat."

I sigh. "She didn't make it."

"Come on, we can't worry about Lulu, we have to get going."

"Son, can I have a second."

Christian looks from his father to me, and back. "A second dad." His brows arch.

Mr. Grey, stands close to me, but he never touches me. "Make him happy." His tone is more threatening, than congratulatory, and as he strolls away, Christian approaches.

"That was quick, what did he say?"

"Congratulations."

Christian cups my hand, and Luke leads us out of the room. Mr. Taylor, and Ryan stay with the others. Unable to meet Luke's gaze, I pretend to the count the shiny tiles. Thankfully, the room's a short distance to the exit, and I don't have to utilize my quickly contrived strategy for any length of time. And because the security team is a stickler for details, the behemoth of an SUV is parked in front of it. "Congratulations, Ms. Steele," Luke says when I climb into the back seat.

"Thank you," I mutter. He then congratulates Christian, and they converse for a few seconds before Christian joins me. "More flowers. Really," I say cradling the bouquet of long stem roses.

His seatbelt clicks. "It's your fault. Get used to it. You've turned me into hearts, and flowers man."

Luke slides behind the wheel, and staring into the rearview mirror he garners his boss's attention. "Sir, T. advised me to alter course, the media is on high alert for us. I'm very familiar with Portland, so I have a back way that would get you and Miss Steele to the hotel without detection."

"Then do it," Christian says.

The engine roars to life. "Yes, sir," Luke says, and we start traveling.

"You do I know I meant figuratively, not literally."

"Baby, you throw down a gauntlet I'll pick it up."

I fidget with the eighth wonder of the world on my finger. "This is something else. Are you capable of doing anything on a small scale."

He shrugs his shoulders. "Why. Life's a stage, it deserves a production-"

"And you deliver every time."

"Thank you," he says stroking my hand. "I wanted the engagement to be as much a testament to my love as the marriage. No lingering doubts, no guessing, I wanted it out in the open that I Christian Grey, am in love with Anastasia Rose Steele."

I put my hand over his. "It was pitch perfect. Though it was grand, and in front of hordes of people, you made it so personal it felt intimate. Your attention to details amazes me, you didn't miss a thing. Gary Levoe, flowers from the meadow, and even God. So, I won."

He lifts my hand, and spins the ring around my finger. "It needs sizing." He peeks up at me. "And that was no admission. It's acceptable that God is omnipotent, why can't God be asexual too. Whoever we need him or her to be."

"Who was God to you when you were a kid?"

He tugs my arm, and the multi- colored bouquet tumbles to the floorboard. "Baby, when I look at you, I see the face of God, you're so perfect. You made me believe. I didn't know a God back then, I only know the God that put you into my life."

I rub his face, "You do know no one is perfect right, including me."

He bumps my hand away, and tipping my head back he penetrates my mouth, kissing me deeply, then softly. "The only thing that matters is that you're perfect to me," he whispers against my lips.

"Ugh," I groan, "I can't wait to take this thing off. You have some kind of schoolgirl fetish?"

"Yes."

"Oh, okay."

He chuckles. "Speaking of which, here you go Miss Steele, soon to be Mrs. Grey," Christian says proudly producing my degree from behind his back.

"Huh. Where. How. Where in the world were you hiding this thing?"

"Anastasia, why do you ask so many questions just take it."

"Thank you." Flopping back against the door panel, I hold the leather binder to my chest. "Here I thought this was the only exciting thing in store for me today. Everything makes so much sense now. My dad, the delay, the dais. How long had you been planning this?"

"Since I locked eyes with you, at the photo shoot. I knew then. It's why the electricity was so strong." He runs his hand through his hair. "I'll confess the logistics of it, took a little more finessing-" My phone beeps cutting him off.

Fumbling in panic, I wrestle with the voluminous fabric of the robe, and digging into the pocket on my dress I retrieve the phone. "It's Lulu, let me take it." Christian nods his consent. "Lulu!"

She laughs. "Contain the excitement."

I'm giddy. "I'm sorry. I have so much to tell you."

"No you don't, I saw it for myself. Congratulations."

"You did! Ray said you weren't there."

"He didn't see me. I was late so I stayed in the back, and with everyone else, I witnessed the most romantic proposal known to man. Christian Grey. You did very well for yourself. Who knew you had it in you."

"Well, I can't wait for you to meet the man. He's so much more than his persona, and he's anxious to meet you too."

"Where are you now, I'm still in town."

I cover the handset, and confer with Christian. "Today, won't be possible. We're heading back to Seattle soon. What about meeting us in Seattle tomorrow?"

"I could do that, and fly from Seatac-"

"We could do lunch. Because of the media fascination it's best we meet at Christian's place." Shaking his head, he gives me his nonverbal approval. "Call me tomorrow, and I'll give you the address," I say, and Lulu and I conclude our conversation.

"Finally. I'll get to the meet the elusive Lulu. Again I ask you, what kind of fucking name is that for a grown woman."

I ignore him. "Two of my most favorite people in the world in the same place, I can't wait."

"I can't wait either." Hovering over he undoes my seatbelt, and jerks me onto his lap. "But, it's for something else more sinister. Luke," Christian calls, and immediately a sultry voice singing, _"Angel", _fills the inside of the car.

"That's you."

"Yes. I'm not particularly enamored with my singing voice, but you are so here you go. It's my engagement present to you."

Tapping the annoying cap back, and I fling my arms around his neck initiating a passionate kiss. "How did I get so lucky," I say in his mouth.

Leaning back, he presses the back of his head into the leather. "How did I," he murmurs, and I lay my head on his shoulder listening to him crooning the song that started it all. Meanwhile his hand snakes under my gown, and dress stroking my inner thighs. His fingers creep between my thighs, and he rubs them over the lace panties.

Over the layers of fabric, I cup his hand. "Christian. Luke's upfront," I whisper.

"I'd hope so; someone had better be driving."

I swat him. "You know what I mean."

"Sawyer, you have earbuds."

"I do sir."

"Put them on. Second thought, find a place, and pull over."

"Sir, is everything okay?"

"It will be when you do what I say."

I grimace at his sudden aggressiveness. "Christian- "

"Mr. Grey, we're not far from the hotel. I'd advise-"

"I advise you to pull over, then get out of the fucking car."

We travel, a short distance, the SUV rolls to a stop, and Luke leaps from the car. "That wasn't necessary, we could've waited."

Christian, tugs his hand back, and suck each of the fingers that had touched me down there. "Really, that's not what your soaked panties are telling me." Grasping the sides of my waist, he sets me on the seat next to him. "Now, this is what we're going to do. You're going to hike all this material up, and sit on my dick."

He frees his erection, and I hover over it before sinking down on it inch by inch. My ass touches his pants cloaked thighs, and I finger his jacket off his shoulders sliding it down his arms. Lugging it from behind him, I toss it to the side, and as I work on his tie, Christian rocks me against him. My hand falls away, and I slap it against the window. I gyrate down on his pulsating cock as Angel plays on a loop.

The fucking car starts rocking like horny teenagers are inhabiting it. I hit it in a vain attempt to soothe my indignation. The fucking two-ton SUV is moving like a toy car. The bastard couldn't wait to get to the fucking hotel, to fuck her, he had to do it now. If I weren't wiser, I'd swear the bastard knew, and is throwing it in my face, but since I'm standing the reality is I'm locked away in her past. And that's where I'm destined to stay. Leaning back on the hood, I prop my foot on the bumper, throwing my head back, I stare into the bright sky, remembering when it was just a boy, girl, and a dog.

"Luke," Grey calls, disrupting my daydreaming, and I get my head back in the game, before biting his fucking head off.

"Yes. Mr. Grey."

"We're ready."

"Yes, Sir

Luke rounds the front of the SUV, the urge to pull the perfume from my purse is too strong. I spritz the car dousing the smell of sex. "Anastasia, Sawyer is no different than Taylor, he works for me."

"Maybe, but he's my CPO, and the thought of having sex in front of him..." My body spasms.

"We didn't fuck in front of him, he was outside. Besides I would never share your pleasure with anyone.

"Can we table this discussion, to never."

He chuckles. "Yes. Luke you can switch that off now."

"No. I want to listen to it the rest of the way."

"Anastasia fucking you to it is one thing. I'm done," Christian says out loud. I blanch, and the SUV swerves slightly.

"Sorry, there was something in the road," Luke says. I smirk, and Christian glowers.

At last we arrive at the Heathman unscathed. Luke goes to his way, and Christian and I go to his presidential suite. "Tired."

"No, the adrenaline is still pumping."

"Good." He sticks his key in the slot, and when the door swings open it reveals flower petals strewn about the foyer.

"More flowers."

"More," he whispers, and circling is hand around mine, he leads over the threshold, inside. We clear the foyer; I stop in my tracks. Sarah McLachlan, is seated behind the piano.

"Christian, what is this."

"Ask her yourself." A satisfied smirk eases across his lips, as I wobble closer to her.

Sara extends her delicate hand to me. "Let me one of the first public people to congratulate you on your engagement."

I shake her proffered hand, but I'm no communicative, this time Christian is my savior. "I explained to Sarah, how you adored her song, and she agreed to perform it for you."

"For a healthy fee." She chuckles. "Seriously, it is such an enchanting story. The romantic in me wouldn't let me say no. Plus you're an intelligent, and strong young woman. Little girls need to see that Cinderella can have brawns and beauty. We need more role models like you-"

A nervous giggle escapes me. "I don't know about that."

"You're 18, graduating with a Masters, and a Bachelors, I'm not knowledgeable enough to realize such a thing is possible," she chuckles. "And you're pursuing a third."

Her high praise, restores my vocal capabilities. "Yes. Computer Science, and English. I'm getting my Doctorate in Computer Engineering."

"You are a high achiever. And just what we need, at a time self-esteem in young girls is so important. So, congratulations on your achievements, and future success. You did very well Mr. Grey."

Christian drapes his arm over my shoulders. "You're not telling me something, I don't already know."

"I'm off my soapbox, pull up a seat," Sarah says. Christian pulls out one of the stools at the piano for me. He takes his seat, and holds my hand as Sarah plays and sings _Angel._

"_May you find some comfort here_," she sings concluding the intimate concert. Sniffling, I clap enthusiastically. "Thank you." Looking down at her bench, she holds up an oversized envelope. "This is for you."

"Me."

"Yes," she says, "open it." I flip the flap, and pull out the lyrics to _Angel. _"It's the original. And I want you to have it."

"I can't"

She stands up. "You can. And you will."

Christian takes her hand. "What a generous gift. Thank you Sarah," Christian says assisting her from behind the piano. I slide down from my perch, and hug her neck.

"I trust you'll take care of it," she whispers.

"I will," I say. We part and Christian accompanies her to the door.

"Well, that rendition was so much better than mine."

"Not to me. Yours will always be my favorite." He plucks the sealed page from my hand. "We're going have to open a music studio, if we get anymore songs given to us."

Placing the lyrics on top of the piano," he laughs. "Hungry?"

"Why do I think that's a trick question. Yes."

"You're lying, but thank you-"

"I'm really not, I'm famished."

"Now, that's music to my ears. We're leaving shortly for the big engagement dinner, but I wanted us to have some alone time. Gail, planned a picnic lunch for us."

He loops his arm, I thread mine through it, and he escorts me to the middle of the room. Always the gentleman, Christian aids me to the checkered blanket, and then he lowers himself. Opening the wicker basket, we partake in the cheeses, fruit, and bread washing it all down with wine for him, and the sparkling cider from the French Laundry for me.

Carefully, setting my glass down, I gather a hand full of rose petals. "Mr. Grey, I think you've forgotten something," I purr letting the petals trickle to the blanket.

He sets his glass on the table positioned behind him. "What?"

"My cap, and gown. I'm still wearing it."

"Then I'd better do my job." He comes to his feet.

I slap my hand in his, and when I'm standing I sway my hips as I walk to the end of the piano picking up my purse removing my phone. Finding iTunes, I locate _Lady Marmalade, _and hit play. "Or maybe I will." I sashay to the room, as Patti Labelle belts out, _hey sister, go sister, soul sister, go sister..._

* * *

**Luke POV**

Kate ambushes me. "Luke."

I dodge her, just missing her grasp. "Not now Kate," I quip continuing down the hallway.

"Fuck you. Pathetic asshole," she laments

Taylor grips me on the back of my shoulder. "I won't ask what's that all about."

I shove the door to our command center open. "What the fuck T. You lure me back here to put her under my charge. And you don't include me in on the fucking plan-"

"Have you ruined the surprise. You and Ana are thick as thieves."

"Make up your Taylor, one minute you're accusing me of wanting to fuck her, and the next criticizing me for being her best buddy."

"You're the one who needs to make up his mind, in the meantime get your ass to the holding room, get Mr. Grey, and Miss Steele to the car and the hell out of here. Ryan, and I will handle the family."

"I thought you were transporting them back to the hotel."

"I reassessed the situation, and determined can best served in this capacity." He pats my chest. "I don't know what Ms. Kavanagh was offering back there, but I suggest you take her up on it."

He exits, and I pace in place. Stopping in front of the door, I bang the back of my head against it letting the unwelcomed tears stream down my face, instead of screaming her name out like a banshee.

* * *

**Lulu POV**

I get the attention of a giddy young woman. "Excuse me. Why the commotion? I need to get in there."

"Sorry lady, you're late, the commencement is over, but you're in time for..." Christian's voice comes over the intercom, and I desert the young woman elbowing my way through the people huddled in the doorway. "Get out of my way, let me see." If my lying eyes weren't showing me the truth, I wouldn't believe it in print. But Christian Grey, of all the men in the world is espousing the virtues of love, and like everyone else in attendance I'm spellbound. His words are eloquent, romantic, and repulsively, heartfelt. I'm so mesmerized by him; the woman is secondary. Then it dawns on me, she's one of the graduates. My mind immediately catalogues my conversations with Snow. And as I come to terms with the possibility, punching me in the gut it is her name he calls.

Frozen in place, I behold him getting down on one knee on the bed of flower at her feet, and the cup I'm holding slips from my hand dropping to the floor.

The water splatters everywhere. Leaping back people shout obscenities at me but they can't drown out his words. Nearly slipping on the small puddle, backpedaling, I limp out of the abusive crowd, desperate to be anywhere but in my own skin. Somehow I make it to a column, out of sight of prying eyes, and I crumble to the floor. The life drains from me as I come to terms with the worst thing to happen to me in my lifetime. The man I love, and the little girl I love, love each other. Where does that leave me?


	51. Chapter 51

Chapter 51- **I'd Rather Go Blind **

**Disclaimer: **FSOG belongs to EL James.

**A/N: **Thank you for reading, following, and reviewing. Overlook errors :) Enjoy

_Something told me it was over'_

_when I saw you and her talking_

_Something deep down in my soul said, 'cry girl"._

_When I say you, and that girl, walking out_

_I'd would rather, I would rather go blind boy,_

_Than to see you walk away from me_. Etta James

* * *

Traversing the room, I swing my pelvis proportionally to my exaggerated stride. It's a sin the voluminous robe is yielding Christian from the full visibility of the sway in my hips. Still. Panting like a thirsty dog he trails me when I sashay through the doorway into the bedroom. Redirecting my steps, I pin his back against the door, sneer the cap from my head arranging it on his. "This is my show," I whisper in his ears, grazing the shell. Backpedaling I lower the long zipper. It clears the teeth, and I shrug my shoulders. The last vestige of my graduation crumples to the carpet.

Pushing off the door Christian tips his head back, the black cap tumbles. "What are you going to show me, exactly." He tugs on the front of his tie, the already loose knot gives way some more.

"Tsk, tsk." Suggestively waving my index finger, I sidle up to him. "No, no, no." Covering his hand, I lower it, undo the necktie, drawing it through the notched collar of his shirt, and fling it to the floor. Peering up in his eyes, I smooth my hands underneath his jacket heaving it off his broad shoulders. Christian then shrugs it off the rest of the way. Holding him spellbound, I methodically undo his belt buckle, and the button on the waistband of his slacks.

A wicked grin caresses his lips. "And what are you going to do with me now Miss. Steele?" he challenges.

"For me to know, and you to uncover."

His brows lift. "I'm intrigued."

"You should be."

"You minx."

Matching his frisky banter, I meow but it falls flat, the sound is more akin to a hairball caught in the throat than a siren's call. Christian graciously plays along giving me the courage to continue. "You were so hot on stage, it's all I could think about the entire ceremony. At last. I get to indulge in my passion. You Mr. Grey- my fiancé."

His eyes light up. "Your fiancé is my new favorite title. Perhaps I should drop Mr. Grey."

I touch my index finger to his lips. "Shhh." The corners of his mouth turn up into a monolithic smile that is equal parts playful, sensual, and evil. But above all infectious. "Over there." Failing miserably at concealing my exuberance, somehow I maintain my femme fatale edge, and direct him to the armchair kitty- corner to the bedside table.

In a deliberate move, Christian plops down on the cushion all sultry, and bad boy like. Distracted by his smoldering heat, I fumble with my phone searching for the playlist I'd compiled for another purpose. Strolling through Spotify, I locate it, press play, and as _Love Me Down, _by Ready For The World electrifies the room, I slink between his legs. His reticent smile, questioning the music, what I'm going to do next, or both perhaps.

Continuing with the seduction routine, I lift the zipper, gradually drawing it down the front of the body hugging dress. My inhibitions dissolving, I disrobe by putting on an erotic striptease. Enthralled, Christian fixates on me as I twirl the dress in the air, eventually slinging it across the room. Clad in only lingerie, I spread my stiletto wearing feet. They tap his Italian loafers, and I pose letting him drink me in. His hands fly up to my pelvis, and just as quickly I bat them down. Smirking, he flops back into the chair. Unconvinced he'll heed my warning, I lean in and one at a time deposit his arms over the armrest to the sides of the chair.

Testing his resolve, I incline forward, and graze his lips with my erect nipples. He snags a sliver of lace in his teeth. I squirm freeing it from his pearly whites, and as he grapples to control his throaty growl, I slide the top button of his shirt through the snug slit. His scent permeating my nostrils, the cool minty air from his breath prickling my skin, I find the wherewithal to haul the shirt out of his slacks as I dutifully undo the remaining buttons when all I want to do is attack him. The near impossible task complete, I stand upright, step across his foot to his right side, and remove his onyx cufflink. Carefully setting it on the bedside table, I tug on the cuff, and he drags his arm out of the sleeve. Switching to the left I do the same thing, except I palm the cuff link. Tossing the crisp cotton material to the floor, I prance to the bedside table leaving the cufflink with its mate. Settling between his thighs, I gesticulate for him to remove the white t-shirt.

Always eager to please me, Christian lugs his arms from the sides of the armchair, grabs the hem of the thin shirt lugging it over his head. My breath hitches when his muscular chest is bared. Topping from the bottom, his words not mine, he intentionally imprisons his wrists at his nape with the innocuous article of clothing, testing me, before he lets it fall to the floor. Our eyes meet, blue to gray we commit every fiber of our being to memory. "I love you," he murmurs to me so softly the words hardly register to my ears.

I should stay in character, admonish him for not playing fair, but I can't. I return the sentiment. "I love you." But before we meander into hearts and flowers territory, I refocus.

Crouching, I tug on the slide unzipping his pants. Sinking to my knees, I make speedy work of his shoes. Setting them to the side, I proceed to his socks exposing his bare feet. Biting my bottom lip, I stand upright on my knees, and claw at his underwear, and trousers. Tilting his pelvis, Christian aids me with the mission. The track switching to Prince's _Do Me,_ thwarts my plan of a slow extrication. I yank everything off, chucking them to the bed. Riveted by his well-defined body, I'm enticed to slow the pace. Sitting back on my haunches, I admire the man, the whole of him. His eyes are so emotive; he doesn't need his words. They're darken by his desire for me, beaming because of his love for me, and twinkling in anticipation of what's to come next from me. Rising to my knees, I embed my short well-manicured nails into the thick muscles cording his inner thighs. Isolating his features, I give each it's due. He's a magnificent specimen, but when you gain a better understanding of him, it is painfully evident that his dedication in the gym is more about survival, then physical beauty. The small circles dotting his pectoral muscles, are a testament to his strength, and perseverance. The ripples on his abdomen attest to his determination, and steadfastness. Following his happy trail, my eyes land on his erection. No explanation, needed, it is simply DNA.

Biting my bottom lip, I envision shocking him. So, dropping my head, I inhale his growing erection. "Fuck me," Christian yells out, his hands flying into my hair. As he applies pressure to my head, he thrusts deeper into my mouth. His tip hits me at the back of my throat, and the muscles constrict. Throwing my arms up, I bump his hands out of my way, taking back control, and as he swells in my mouth I calibrate the tempo of my sucking. Both punishing him, and arousing him. And just when he thinks, I'm going to let him explode down my throat, I release him, and spring to my feet. The white-hot heat in his eyes begging me, I delight in my dominance over him. Savoring his heavy panting, I reach in back, grab the root of my ponytail, sliding the twisty down it. Shaking my head, I unleash the waves and as Marvin Gaye sings about sexual healing, I undo my bra. Slipping the straps down my arms, I watch as it flutters to the floor.

The sight of his twitching cock, stirs me deep in my core, causing my thumbs to curl inside the waistband of my panties. They clear my hips, and I slither out of them. The lace lands on the top of my feet, and I alluringly step from under the delicate fabric. Left in only my stilettos, I capitulate to his lustful gaping, granting him permission to feast on what he has secured as his. Liquefying under his potent fervor, I kick my shoes off hitting the bottom of the chair. The disc switches to_ Motivation, _by Kelley Rowland, and I lean in bracing a hand on the cushion behind his head. With a come-hither twist to my mouth, I climb up, and straddle him. Dying to accept his rock hard erection, clumsily I hover. The chair tips. Lists to the side, and then it teeters backward. "Aha," I yelp, and as Christian cradles me to his chest we go sailing. Under my ear piercing screeching, we land with a muffled thud.

The padding in the carpet dulled the sound, and lessened the impact. "Are you hurt?" He's frantic. Christian suffered the brunt of the fall, yet he's worried about me. He sacrificed his body. Manipulating the chair so it fell to the back, instead of to on my side.

"No. Unless you count my ego. What about you?"

"No." He writhes underneath me, and I shift.

Lifting my head, I inspect his face. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, and don't you dare move. Just getting the kink out of my back." Undulating, his deflating cock pokes me. "There. That did it," he says, and my bubbling up laughter erupts filling the room. Christian hesitates, until he's too full to suppress it any longer, and he bursts into laughter too.

"How embarrassing." Burying my head in the crook of his neck, I rub my eyes on his skin soaking up the tears.

He guffaws. "I have to give it you, it was sexy as hell though. The way you..." He exhales. "Damn, I'd never enjoyed being dominated so much." Securing me to his chest, he lifts, and his back levitating he hurls the nearest throw pillow. "But we have to elevate your taste in music." The aim was my phone. He manages to knock it off its perch, but the music not only survives the volume increases a tad taunting him.

Defeated he collapses back to the carpet, and I giggle. "Next time I'll defer to your more refined musical palate." I summoned my most proper English tone. "No more R&amp;B."

"Not necessary." He rises again. "I'm not opposed to the genre," he says. "But right now l want to get off this fucking hard chair. The base is digging into my lower spine." Crushing me to his body, Christian flips us to the side briefly covering me, and then he rolls us once more so he's again on the bottom.

"Better."

"Much. Something else would make it even better." Rising up, he corrals the blanket from the bed wrapping us in. Who'd-a-thunk-it, his mind was pure, and mine veered to something darker. "What do you say, we just lie here, and contemplate our future together until we fall asleep."

"That would be nice." He loosens his grip, I slide from his chest to his side, and nestle in his arms.

He plants a kiss on the top of my head. "By the way, I'm just as fond of Marvin Gaye, Prince, and even Patty Labelle, as my hoity- toity music, but that other stuff. Mmmm," he sighs, "not so much."

"Feeling guilty or old?"

He chuckles. "Neither."

"Well, you won't have to worry, I'm retiring my limited stripper skills."

"Don't get crazy. The stripping the was hot. Just be more selective in your music selections."

Giggling, I snuggle in his arm. "Can you believe we're engaged?"

"Yes. I was the nervous fool doing the asking in front of a shitload of people."

"Nervous...are you serious? It wasn't noticeable, you were rock solid."

"Baby, I've built my empire on perpetrating. What's the quote, never let'em see you sweat? But I'll admit I wasn't convinced you'd say yes."

"Christian please. Why would you have any doubts?"

"Things haven't exactly been optimal for us-"

"Growing pains. But you love me, I love you-"

"What about Copper?"

I pop up, and balance on my elbows. "Copper. There's a name I haven't heard in... forever."

Christian smooths the hair from my face. "Honestly. Have you thought about him? You can be honest with me."

"I can honestly, say no I haven't."

"I have," he confesses.

"You've never mentioned it to me."

"It's my shit," Christian snarls. "He's constantly on my mind. He's the only man, I compare myself to. The only man worthy of my comparison, he's the only man to have all of you. Yes, I want to kill him for touching you, but the fact that he's had your heart is what keeps me awake at night. Competing with him in that arena, unravels my tightly woven confidence."

"If I'd led you to believe you were inferior to anyone, I'm sorry." I cup the side of his jaw. "Do you know; I'd never loved him in the ways I love you-"

"But you loved him." His vulnerability clouds his eyes.

Analyzing his reflective gaze, I'm reminded of Dr. Grace's words. When they're forlorn, in just the right light the harshness in the gray of his eyes, turn a genteel powder blue. "Christian, you don't simply have my heart, you've burrowed your way into my soul. You are a part of me in the same way I am a part of you. Copper was in my life for a moment, you will be in it for a lifetime."

He fixes his arms behind his head. "Let's get married."

"We are."

"Tomorrow."

"That's silly talk." My arms cave-in, and I lay my head on his chest.

"Think about it. Elope, and avoid the circus surrounding a Christian Grey wedding. Not to mention I can't wait to make you…" He stutters. "My wife."

"Tempting as it is, your mom, and Mia would be devastated, and then they'd recover, and kill us. Sorry Mr. Grey, you're stuck with wearing a penguin suit, and enduring all the indignities of a wedding."

"Wedding," he huffs. "It's the engagement I won't survive." His arms come forward, his hands sliding into my hair massaging my scalp. "We have some time before flying back to Seattle. Let's rest up, for the engagement party circuit. It's my understanding that mom has quite the spread," he says, "and Andria texted that, she and my Communication's Director are already feeling calls-"

"Whew, word travels fast maybe I will reconsider eloping."

"I'll call city hall."

* * *

**The Next Day:**

Christian, and I chuckle as we navigate giant gnomes, swinging fairies, and enlarged butterflies. "I appreciate Mia doing this for me, I didn't realize how different her vision of romance is from mine." Picking at the netting draping the canopy she had erected over the bed, I admire the details. "I'm sure she was going for whimsical, but strayed too far into the fairytale realm. It's pretty. But it's too…"

"Much."

"Yea." My eyes reassess the childlike decorations. "Of everything. She doesn't approve of it, but she knows my style. What made her think I'd like this?"

"You have to ask. This is the same young woman that insists you release doves when you walk down the aisle. This is her dream. God help us when she gets married."

Smiling, I weave my arms around his waist avoiding his back. "Yes, and you're the big brother that will ensure all of her little girl dreams come true."

"You got me pegged." Untangling my arms, he relocates me to his front. "She's my other weakness. Please don't tell her. My bank account won't survive." I scrunch my face. "Too late?" I bob my head. "Oh well."

"I'm sorry. Here I am going on and on about your sister-"

"Baby, I agree with you. She wanted to be a part of it. I gave her the assignment, and my black card."

"There's the problem," I say, giggling. "Next time stick with Miss Jones, she has a more mature approach to romance." Tiptoeing, I give him a peck on his jawline. "Don't say anything to her, I don't want to hurt her feelings."

"Never."

"Ready."

"You're a kid at Christmas. If she were a man, I'd be jealous."

"Tell you what. I'll work on my musical taste, if you work on your jealousy."

"No deal. There's no cure for me, you're in my life."

"You're incorrigible." Threading my fingers with his, I accompany him out of the bedroom. "All the people I love are coalescing around me." I swing our arms. "That's why I'm happy.

"I jest; I'm looking forward to meeting her."

"Please! Curious is more like it."

He sniggers. "That too."

I cast a glance up at him. "Thank you."

"For what? Breakfast in bed. I told you, I wanted to extend the magic before the daily rigors of normalcy sets in."

I squeeze his hand. "My life will never be normal again, but that's not why I'm thanking you, I've thanked you for that."

"And I thank you," he murmurs, in his suggestive tone.

"Christian, get your mind out of the gutter."

"Me. You brought it up." He feigns innocence.

"Anyway. I'm talking about sending Miss Jones away, so I could play hostess."

"Baby you don't have to thank me, and you don't have to play, this is your home too. And it was a prime opportunity for her and Taylor to have some alone time, before the madness ensues."

We reach the vestibule to the kitchen, I release his fingers, and pick up the morning newspaper laying on the end of the counter. Sighing, I study the photo on the front page - Christian on one knee on the bed of flowers, and me bending down holding his face in my hands. "I love this picture."

"You, and my mom. She wants the original."

I take another gander at the caption, it lacks originality, but it's sweet. **Cinderella: A Modern Day Fairytale.** Christian snatches the paper out of my clutches. "Hey."

"You've read it."

"Scanned it," I contest. "I want to do a deeper dive."

"Project Management speak, you're already in work mode." Smirking, he gives it back to me. Unfolding it, I recline against the counter, and peruse the rest of the article.

_After weeks of speculations, chasing dead ends, and camping out, the young woman at the center of the great dating mystery has been revealed. The man who protects his privacy; as securely as, the President protects the nuclear codes, in a very public manner introduced the world to the young woman who'd stolen his heart. The two had been linked since a photo of them surfaced. Her face was obscured so for weeks, all we had to go on were speculations, and innuendos. Now, the secret is out in the open, erasing any doubts. Christian Grey is in love folks. One of the world's most eligible bachelor proposed to his lady love yesterday at her college graduation. (What a graduation present.)_

_Needless to say it was filled with the grandiose overtures we'd come to expect from Christian Grey, the surprise was the romance, warmth, and genuine love the enigmatic Billionaire put on display. Until that moment the rich, powerful, and handsome bachelor had never been linked romantically to a woman, except the one time there was gossip he was in a relationship with one of his business associates but it was quickly debunked. It isn't until the infamous photo, had he even been photographed with a woman. There had been the rare sightings of him at charitable events with a model on his arm, but they don't count._

_Back to the proposal. Hollywood couldn't have scripted a more surprising, and elaborate proposal with the flowers, musical guest, and extraordinarily dreamy silique. Ladies will any of us survive Christian Grey, telling his now Fiancé, 'you're the alpha, and omega. My world begins and ends with you.' I'm a guy, and I'm still not over it. You men out there hoping to propose this year, one word. Don't. You can't compete. One lucky lady got the proposal of the century, and she's Anastasia Steele. Miss Steel a recent Graduate of WSU. By all account she's as smart… _

Blah, Blah, Blah, I mouth to myself, as I fold the paper along the crease. "Enough of that." Slamming the paper back to the counter, I amble to the sink, wash my hands, and make a beeline to the warmer.

The delectable aroma of steak with a scallion glaze, and French fries' wafts from the steel dome torturing me with the deliciousness underneath. Steak-Frites, from the moment Miss Jones first served it for dinner, has emerged as my new favorite meal.

"What can I do?"

I can't resist, I peek. "Set the salad, and bread on the table." The lid clatters to the base, as I nod to the fridge. "Miss Jones put the ramekins with the Crème Brule in the refrigerator. Take them out, fire the tops. And I want- "

"Baby. Breath," Christian calmly orders. "Now, what's your first preference, salad-"

Interrupting him, I fling my arms around his neck accidentally touching a lightly dusted cheek to his shirt. "I'm sorry, I'm crazed." He crushes me to his chest, caring nothing for the white polo. "You're anxious." Inching me backward, he presses me into the lip of the counter. Liberating his arm, Christian stands back and ogles me. "And sexy as hell." He fiddles with a button on my dress. "Why don't you save money on these, and just wear my shirts."

"Umm, they barely cover my derriere, and you'd be jealous."

"Then do it for my benefit only."

"Christian," I sigh as he sucks on my neck. "Our guest of honor will be here shortly."

"The Doorman will alert us. We've got time. I'm only taking the edge off," he mumbles.

I giggle. "Off who?" I say, as he nibbles on my skin.

His fingers skate along my inner thighs. "You," he says, "and me." Stroking my clit under my panties, he coaxes moan after moan from me. "Next time no panties." Wheedling his fingers underneath the elastic, inexplicably he jerks his hand back. "Hear that?"

Flush, I clamp my thighs together. "What?"

"The elevator," he says, just as it pings. "Wait here." In a flash he rounds the corner. "Maybe Jason left something."

"Lulu." My burgeoning smile erupting into a full on grin, I snag an out of place butter knife from the counter top. Getting a glimpse of my image, I frantically comb my hand through my hair.

"Baby she doesn't have the cod..." His voice trails. "What the fuck!"

The knife clangs on the floor. "Christian." Gaining traction on the slippery tile, my ballet flats sputter as I hurriedly scramble from behind the counter. When the perpetrator is in my line of sight, my racing heart resets, and my eyes sparkle with glee. Christian is busily fumbling with his cell phone, for her part Lulu is poised. She is stunning in her sleek cosmopolitan black turtleneck, pencil skirt, and smart trench coat. In a sing-song voice, I welcome her. We make eye contact, but not a connection. She's trained on Christian. So, opening my arms, I flounce next to him. "Christian that's Lulu." The smile on my face broadening, color drains from his.

His phone crashing to the tile, a confident Lulu struts out of the elevator. "Hello master." Her wicked drawl, and sinister half-smile sets the stage.

The corners of my mouth droop. My arms flop to in front of me. My illusion of a happily ever after shattering, the harsh reality fuses together. And she seals it when she bows her head."Maass-" As I stumble over the hideous word Christian barges in cutting me off.

His hands clench in and out of a fist. "I have no idea who's this Lulu, but that's Leila fucking Williams," he bellows confirming the awful truth. Glaring at the top of her downcast head, I'm crestfallen. Bargaining with the universe, I struggle for each breath. "Anastasia." Christian slips his arm around my torso, and I sag against him. In my peripheral vision, her erect shadow advances.

"Stop." The high pitched shrill ignites terror in Christian's eyes, the stranger hovering at his back has a more nuanced expression.

"Snow." Her caring tone belies her questionable tactics.

"Don't you dare, call me that. You don't know me, and I sure as hell don't know you."

Christian's eyes widen. He scours my face in disbelief, and while my eyes are welling with tears I'm strident. Helping me onto to a stool, panic-stricken he pats down my hair, and runs his hand along my face. "Are you okay?"

"I'll never be okay."

"Can I get you some water?"

"No." I glare at the unrecognizable woman lurking behind him. "You're an imposture," I scold.

Fire licking at his face, the engorged vein on his neck pulsating, Christian bolts to the fraud seizing her shoulders. "I should strangle you with my bare hands," he threatens. Sidestepping his phone, under her protest he hauls her to the elevator, the pointy toes of her Louboutin's barely skimming the floor.

"Christian!" He halts. "Put her down." Unceremoniously, he lets go. She has to fight to stick the landing. Flattening her front, she gapes at me in awe. I want to crow about it, _say yes bitch that how he rolls with me_, but my cooler head prevails. "She's gone out of her away to set this whole thing in motion. I want to hear what she has to say"

Her flinty eyes zero in on my ring. Using the pad of my thumb, I rotate the band so the massive diamond is in my palm. Parading it isn't an option, I'm too protective of what it represents. "Snow. This doesn't change a thing. You know me. I'm the same girl whose arms you cried in that first night, and every other night after that. I'm the same woman that celebrated your triumphs, and downplayed your failures. Same Lulu you called when you'd lost your virginity." Christian's grimace is noticeable. "The person that had to soothe your heart after **he'd** broken it. I'm the one who commiserated with you, helped care for you during the darkest days of your life, and it is me who threw you a lifeline so you could pull yourself through it."

"Bullshit. You didn't help her-"

Her eyes dart from me to Christian. "Dr. Ryan is well respected in her field. She has written articles on dealing with the aftermath of sexual abuse, and miscarriages. She just so happens used to be a Dominatrix. As a prescribed Dominate yourself, and an extremely successful businessman, it's hypocritical of you to cast aspersions on her. After all, ' BDSM is what we do, not who we are.' Your words of encouragement." She quotes Christian, and is proud of herself for an effective use of his words against him.

The jab reinvigorates her smugness. It is this lack of remorse, and any evidence of shame, that infuriates me most. "Eyes over here, not on him." Sliding down the stool, I come to my feet thinning the blood roiling in my veins with my courage. "You're talking to me." I wander closer to the twosome. "For the record, the woman you described wouldn't be so brazen. She'd have the compassion, respect, and contrition to talk to me in private. Not ambush me like a two a bit trifling bitch. You are shameless."

Christian smirks. "Baby this isn't about you. It's about me. She used you." The tears swimming in my eyes, drop. "You were a cover, to get an audience with me. Her illegal stalking shenanigans failed, so she used you to get to me. The question becomes, what does she expect to accomplish."

My stormy eyes, become a heat seeking missiles penetrating her heartless shell. "Is he right. L-e-i-l-a?"

For the first time a hint of remorse flickers in eyes that used to remind me of mine. "Leila Williams is my given name," she volunteers, catching Christian, and me off guard. "I stopped using it formally after my parents sided with my uncle, and against me when I accused him of abusing me for years. Lulu, was the name of my first doll. She was my protector until my uncle destroyed her. After that I was left vulnerable, wondering if tonight would be the night he'd come to my bed. You have no idea what it's like to sleep in layers of clothing, just to make it difficult for your rapist to get to you. Or so the next morning you'd know if you'd been touched in your sleep. So, soon as I turned fifteen I ran away with hopes of starting a new life. Go someplace where I could wash, and finally get clean, or not have to beg to be heard. But I quickly learned there are no safe havens in this word for a cowering little girl. Then, one night this precious child entered my life. She was an angel." I gulp. "I saw her as a sign. I could save her. I wasn't worth the trouble; I was too far gone." She hangs her head, not in a sign of submission but demonstrating that feeling of worthlessness, every abuse survivor can attest too. Her revelation tugs at my heart strings. In all our years together, this is the most open she's been about her past. We'd all been running away from something but with her you could never tell she was always so contained. Discovering the details of her truth is sobering, the threads that bind us goes beyond our shared history. We share a longing for the same man. Identifying with her insecurities, the loneliness, the fear- a chill runs down my spine. I want to run to her, do for her what she'd done for me. But I'm too raw. Instead I compartmentalize the emotions. That woman no longer exists, so I appropriate the right amount of compassion for the person in front of me- another statistic in the growing sisterhood.

"Special effects and all, you planned your shit down to the head movement."

"Christian, please let her finish." Wiping my face, I rub my eyes, composing myself.

Her head snaps up. She stares directly at me. My features are hardened, ending speculation that her enlightening revelation had persuaded me to back in her corner. "One day I crossed path with this strong, beautiful, confident woman. She wanted to be an advocate for me. She. Believed. Me. That is why I referred you to Dr. Ryan. She helped me, and I knew she could assist you in your Postpartum depression."

Christian repeatedly strikes his palms. The thunderclaps reverberate around the room. "Superb acting. Your pontification had me on the verge of tears, except for a tiny hole in your story. If you and the renown Quack aren't in cahoots how did you know I'd been talking about her? I didn't mention her name." My eyes flash to Christian applauding his awareness.

"This is going to fall on deaf ears, but I'll say it anyway. Dr. Ryan had always been professional. She'd never divulged the substance or content of her sessions with Ana. She only kept me updated, because I paid the bill. On my last phone call to her, she informed me that Ana had removed her as her Therapist. Naturally, I was surprised. I inquired to why, but in keeping with her professionalism, she was silent on the matter. Her strong suggestion that I have a long talk with Ana inferred that there was more to the story than an amicable separation between Doctor, and patient. Your out of character outburst, solidified my belief, helping me to put two, and two together. So, accusing me of dubious intentions is crazy. You were the best-kept secret. I found out about you two, the same way the rest of the world did. Except for Kate. I'm sure."

I trounce. "Keep Kate out of this, you can't put this one on her."

"I can't. What about you Snow. Where's your responsibility, account for your duplicity-"

"Anastasia, let me throw her the fuck out," Christian booms.

I square my rounded shoulders. "Not yet, I'm intrigued to see how she's going to pin this on me." Her sudden attack on me, bolsters my confidence.

"I'm not deflecting, I'm equally offended. You didn't share a life-changing event with me," she bellows, unshed tear coloring her words. "I'm the one who's supposed to be your deepest confidant, not her."

"How was I expected to confide in you. I couldn't keep up with your time zones. A lot of life happened between your calls, and text messages. I needed more than the 30 seconds, and 140 characters allotted me to fill you in. You're angry at me. All this time I worried about you. Prayed for you. But you weren't chasing happiness, you were running away from Christian's justice. He's gotten to the crux of this drama filled get together you've orchestrated. It was never about me."

"I guess we can absolve each other and hold life at fault. If circumstance hadn't prevailed, we wouldn't be here," she contends.

"A convenient theory. One problem. We talked yesterday. Everything was out in the open by then, leaving you every chance to come clean. Instead you chose to put your sick obsession with Christian, above any feelings you claimed to have had for me. There's no absolution, I blame you wholeheartedly."

Any hint of Lulu fades, and Leila Williams is front and center. Sensing, a brutal rebuttal Christian steps back, snakes his arm around my waist, and I let him. "I've been where you are, so I understand how easy it is to get swept up by his charm, and everything that comes with the Christian Grey mystique. But Master is dark."

"You're a pathetic bitch," Christian lashes out. Her ominous tone, and constant needling of me with her use of the BDSM moniker, makes me want to do the same, but in a more visceral fashion- deck her. "I'm dark?" Christian's arm jerks, I wrench it, afraid of what he'll do. " You're the calculating maniacal bitch that broke into my home, destroyed my property, and threatened to commit suicide in front of my housekeeper. On top of all that, you set this-"

"I loved you," she cries out. It's obvious, but hearing her say the words cause the rhythm of my heart to skip a beat. "I love you..." My grip on him slackens, and my knees buckle. Christian reacts swiftly, crushing me to his side stabilizing my weak legs. "They sowed the seed, you helped it grow. If I'm a monster, you created me. I craved human connection. I wanted love. Your love. I accepted the punishment you doled out. The demeaning treatment. All to satisfy your preserve needs. Why? Just to please you. Pleasing you meant more to me than pleasing me."

"You're sicker than I thought, you're delusional. You need more than a therapist; you need to be institutionalized. You were dealt a shit hand, but I didn't victimize you. You were a learned submissive when you came to me. You were well versed in hard, and soft limits. And with no prodding from me, you systematically chose each. I didn't have a hand in creating your demons, I only fed them with your desire for everything you signed up for."

"Master-"

"Stop calling him that," I scream. Listening to them dispute the tenets of their Dominant/Submissive relationship make me want to bathe.

She twirls an unruly hair behind her ear. "If preying on the emotions of a naïve 17-year-old girl, gives you some moral high ground, anoints you the authority of love, you're the one who needs to be institutionalized," she retorts.

"I've heard enough get the fuck out," Christian demands.

She remains defiant. "No. I didn't sacrifice everything. Devote my life to her, only to leave her with someone of your depravity," she says.

I remove his arm. "Lady, you are sick," I seethe. "You think I'd go with you." I stare down my nose at her. " And what exactly do you think you're saving me from? I'm not one of you."

She cackles. "One of us. You are naïve. I protected you too much. Perhaps I should've allowed you to learn life's lessons the hard way. One of us," she spits out, using air quotes, "is precisely who you are, only worse. You can't see it. He's only capable of one kind of relationship. The marriage license is just another name for the contract, and wife... well you get my drift. He will control you, and if you step out of line he will punish you. Maybe not with a cane, whip, or belt, but he'll find a way to make it hurt. And when he's done with you, in the end you will end up just like the rest of us. No woman leaves Christian Grey's path unscathed. I have the support group to prove it."

I can hear the blood swooshing in his ears. "Let's be clear, the only reason you're standing in here is Anastasia. You have no clue about our relationship-"

"I know all I need to know. You're the man that shun his responsibilities, when he found out she was pregnant, leaving another man to pick up the pieces."

Copper not far from his mind, the last comment was a bridge too far. Christian stomps closer to her. I jump in the middle. "She's not worth it. All she has are sound bites. She couldn't be bothered with the rest of the story." I wheel around facing her. "In case you had any lingering doubts about the state of our relationship, let me offer you some clarity. Get the fuck out."

Christian hooks his arm around me, moving me to the side. He then proceeds to adjust her trench coat, shove her purse up her shoulder, and he cranes his neck getting in her face. "I will destroy you. Your time on the streets will feel like a trip to the spa. I suggest that you hang on to these few pieces of luxury. I'm sure I bought them, but you can keep them. They're all you will have to your name, be it Lulu or Leila." His inside, low control voice is more menacing, then his outside raging voice. Her eyes blink wildly.

"What are you going to do?" she babbles, the last trace of her defiance fleeing.

"Teach you the lesson, you should've learned when I tore up our contract. If I'm not fucking you, don't fuck with me." I blanch. "When I'm done with you, you'll come crawling for me to put you in prison just so you can have some peace." Her shoulders hunch.

He's stripped her bare, she's a shell of the woman she was when she strutted off the elevator. Christian allowed her to bask in her own hype, then he went in for the kill. The steel doors slide open, and she stammers inside, and as they slide together she sends a last desperate shot across the bow. "Snow. You want to deny it but you know the truth. When it's all said, and done, he'll ruin you too."

"Baby."

I shove hard on his chest. "Don't. Touch. Me."

"Anastasia, you can't put this on me."

The tear treks are still wet on my cheeks. "The hell I can't. Your old contaminated world keeps colliding with ours. One boy keeps you up at night." The common sense portion of my brain is warning against perpetuating this lie, but the analogy is too ripe to leave hanging. "I can't get away from your concubine. Try walking down the street, and wondering if every woman you come across with a trace of a resembles, is one of them. It is awful. So, finding out that I'd lived with one, confided in one, cherished one. Is...is-"

"If her rubbish is to be believed, you don't have to worry, they're all languishing away in padded cells."

"I'm thrilled you can find the humor," I pivot, and he follows me.

"Anastasia be reasonable. How could I have known that Lulu, and Leila were the same people. Did you?"

I wheel around. "You two may disagree on a lot of things, but on this one point you're sure as hell singing from the same hymnbook. The, I didn't know defense. It's a convenient alibi, except it doesn't work for me. I don't have asbestos emotions like the two of you. Hurt me, and I actually hurt."

"Fuck, Anastasia, that's low. I'd been begging you to disclose more about this woman, and all I got was pushback. Innuendos that mounted to much a nothing. This mess could've been avoided, if you'd allowed me to do a thorough background check. My gut told me Lulu was an alias. A perfect name for a pet, or a little girl maybe, but a grown woman."

"Go ahead beat your chest, but you're neglecting how this has affected me. I'm wrecked Christian. She's the embodiment of my worst nightmare. That's what I couldn't get out."

One long stride and he's at me yanking me into his arms. I elbow my way out of his unwanted embrace. "Sorry. You can't resolve this with sweet nothings, a quick fuck, or something shiny." I stumble to the counter.

"Anastasia this is insane. This is the day after our engagement. We're supposed to be celebrating, happy-"

"It's tainted."

Terrified, his eyes zoom to my hand. "Where's your ring!"

"I hid it."

"Why would you do that? We should unite in our opposition to her, not give her the satisfaction of our demise. I thought you were on the same page."

I slide the boulder back to its prominent position on the top of my finger, and his facial features relax. "What you witnessed from me, was false bravado. I didn't derive any pleasure from jeering her, or flaunting my good fortune. But for the grace of God there goes I. I was once at the short end of that stick." I wipe my nose with the back of my hand. Christian lunges for me, and I step to the side. "Loving you when you didn't love me."

His head shrinks back. "How can you say that with a straight face. I've never loved her," he shouts, "but I've always loved you. Just the other day, you said you got it. Yes, within the confines of our contractual BDSM relationship, I cared for her. Respected her. Provided for her, but I never promised her anything more, or gave her anything less."

"She shares something with you, I never will."

Recognition looming he dips his head in incredulity. "You can't be serious."

"BDSM is an important part of your life, and you're distancing yourself from it because of me. For all its controversies, she will always have it in common with you. She shares it with you. That explains why she felt so embolden."

"Anastasia." Feverishly, he runs his hand through his hair. "Baby, I don't want to let you into that world. One you're too young, and impressionable. She's right, probably the only truth she told. What I do in the playroom is dark, and I don't want you wallowing in your suffering to withstand it-"

"I want to Christian. I mean I want to do it for you. It makes you who you are-"

"No, you've made me the proud man I am today. If I'm a Greek God, you carved me out of stone. I'm a monument to your love. That's how I want you to remember me, the man you created, not the man high on dominance, sloppy drunk from the brutality. "

Sniffling, I pick up his hand. "Don't insult my intelligence, I can tell the difference. You have vices but you're not a monster-"

He slides his hands from mine. "Compared to who, a murderer, child molester, that's a very low bar."

We lock eyes. "Christian, you're a flawed human being like most of the population not in prison for unthinkable crimes. If you're expecting more- For me to stroke your ego, or contradict your self-loathing. I can't. I'm too depleted."

"The only more I need is you- you're my shining light. What we do in the bedroom is enough for me." He scrubs his hand over his face. "Is this really the fight you want to have. Me taking you into my playroom?"

"I don't know what I'm fighting about, or for anymore." For the sake of expedience, I grab his jacket from the back of the stool.

"Where are you going?"

"I need some air."

"Anastasia, paparazzi has this place surrounded. I'll come with you."

"No."

"No," he repeats, and swiping the VW keys from the counter I race to the elevator. "Are you coming back?"

As the doors commence too close, his tortured demeanor stabs me in my bruised heart. The panels join, separating me from him and I crush the keys to my latest toy to my chest, slinking back against the wall. The elevator descends to the garage. The doors ping open, and familiar arms hoist me from the floor. Like a boat adrift in the sea after a storm, I cuddle into the safety of his harbor, his strong arms.

"What are you doing here?" I say, through my sobs.

Using his hands, Luke clears the deluge of water from my face. "I've come for you."

My chin trembling I nod. "Okay."


	52. Chapter 52

Chapter 52: **If Only You Knew **

**Disclaimer: **FSOG belongs to EL James

_I must have rehearsed my lines A thousand times_

_Until I had them memorized. But when I get up the nerve to tell you the words Just never seem to come out right._

_If only you knew_

_How much I do_

_Do love you Patti Label_

**A/N:** Sorry for the long time between posting. Along with my other responsibilities, and sneaking around to write I volunteered on a certain campaign. Let's just say the election has taken its toll on me. Enough of politics, this isn't the forum this our happy place. I'm on vacation but I hope to post at least one more much shorter chapter before it ends next week. Finally, I have a chapter hopefully it was worth the wait. Thank you for reading, following, and reviewing. Enjoy

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Countless pristine white fluffy balls of cottons, hang in the aptly named sky-blue sky, and I concentrate on the only peculiar one. It's a copycat of me - a misfit in a sea of eye-popping beauty. "That one reminds me of a poodle." My head lolls to the side on the plush blanket, granting me a better vantage point.

Luke chuckles. The jovial pitch, is just the anecdotal salve to restore my splintered spirit. "She's alive. Too bad her creditability with dogs everywhere is shot." Laughing, he gives my shoulder a sportive nudge. "The edges are too ragged. If anything, it looks like, a half-eaten potato chip with the face of Mother Theresa."

The vapors float so haphazardly, it isn't conclusive we're scrutinizing the same one. Still, I call him out. "Now you're being silly." I face forward. "**And** sacrilegious."

"It worked. Coaxed a smile out of you." Lying straight as a plank, I ogle the vast skyline for another guileless cloud for us to unmercifully debase. "Wanna talk about it?" There's an elongated pause. "Too soon." Channeling the atmosphere, I stay mum. "Solved. We'll stay here until you're ready to talk. I've got two more hours."

I relive the fraying of the fool's gold holding my fragile future together in a loosely woven ball. "You're timing... you have the uncanny skill of appearing when I need you most."

"Can't take credit. Grey got word to T. T. got word to me."

My head jerks round. "Here, I thought you were my hero."

"Hold up. You relinquished me from serving you in the capacity a long time ago." Sufficiently, rebuked, I center my gaze on the meadow's floor. "Fortunately, friends can be heroic too," he says.

"Friend." The stem of a wildflower glides between my two fingers, as I root it from the soil. "After the morning, I've had, friend is a dirty word." The delicate deep purple petals easily come a loose from the pistil into my hand.

"I'd bet. Your Lulu and Leila Williams are the same people. What a cluster fuck."

Petals I'd strewn in the air, float back to earth. "Corrections. She's not my Lulu."

"And you had no idea?"

"None. I knew Lulu dabbled in BDSM. It is why it didn't faze me when you and Christian broached the subject." Swatting my ears, I ward off the buzzing, and fanning my legs I try to do the same to the insects threatening to bombard them.

"Let me." Jolting upright, Luke bends at the waist, spraying me with more of the ghastly repellent."

"Thanks."

He returns the can to the weeds next him. "You're welcome." Planting his palms on the edge of the blanket, Luke reclines back on his arms. "BDSM is a lifestyle choice, one doesn't dabble in it."

Blowing a petal from in front of my nose, I glance at him. "Do I need to remind you of a certain club in Portland?"

"No. The night is forever etched in my mind." He winks. "And I never claimed to be a BDSM aficionado. I was forthcoming about the narrow mission. Test your limits, by introducing you to the innumerable possibilities…" Dithering, his eyes descend on me. "Have you and Grey?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but Christian is adamant, not until I'm 21."

"Good for him."

"As if we're going to survive three more years. Regardless, BDSM is no more the problem than prayer in schools-"

Luke snorts. "You and your way with words. What a dichotomy."

"Hyperbole notwithstanding, the sham mockery is symptomatic of my life; one good thing happens, and two bad one follow."

Hoisting my hand from the throw, Luke hones in on my ring finger. ""It's not how I see it. The trajectory of your life is filled with nothing but happiness. This crystallizes it. No pun intended."

An uncomfortableness looms over me, and I wriggle my hand free. "Speaking of which, I should return yours."

"It's not the hope diamond, but it belongs with you. I bought it for you."

"Don't insult me. This isn't about size. There's been a seismic shift. We're no longer in an innocent game of flirtatious cat and mouse-"

"It wasn't a game, and I wasn't flirting."

Smooshing my hands together in a prayer formation, I wedge them beneath my head, peering up at him. "We seem so long ago. The distant past, instead of a few short months..."

His friendly eyes infiltrate my inner-being, tapping into the sliver still vulnerable to him. "Not to me. It feels like forever, and yesterday all at once, because I relive the moments every day."

The earnestness in the tone of his voice is my undoing. The longing stirs familiar emotions. Inclining on my elbow, I erect the similes of an impenetrable wall. "Luke, I'm not trivializing what we shared. I'm doing my level best to be pragmatic here."

"Pragmatic, says the idealist." Plucking blades of grass, he tosses them in the vicinity of my feet.

"You're upset."

He grunts. "About what?" Snapping up flowers with the weeds, he hoops the vegetation into the air. "He asked you to marry him. You said yes. End of story...ours anyway." His hand slips inside the close rows of colorful blooms, surrounded by blades of grass in varying shades of green, and I cover it.

"The plants you're manhandling would disagree."

He musters a shy smile, it slays me. "No anger. I'd resigned myself to the truth a long time ago. The reality of it was a shocker, is all."

Sliding my hand back, I caress his fingers nurturing the hurt feelings he's dismissing. "Precisely, why you should have your ring back."

He crosses, and uncrosses his legs. "Change of subject."

"Pluhease."

"What am I missing? I get the hostility at Leila...Lula whoever the hell she is, but why Grey?"

"Honest."

"Always."

"Guilt."

"About us?"

"Yes. It rears its disruptive head in troubled times. Along with my insecurities, it exploits the weakness inside my relationship with Christian. The thing is, the faster I run, it out paces me, until it catches me."

"Which are you fleeing, the lie or the hypocrisy."

Joining him, I sit upright. "I prefer secret. It's much more pleasing to the ear."

"You can put lipstick on a pig, it's still a pig."

"Prettier."

"Still a pig. You can make it as palatable as you want. It's still your dirty little secret, threatening to ruin your dream."

"Let me bury my head in the sand awhile longer."

"Be my guess, but I can be no longer be the reason you stay silent."

"Why are you doing this to me? Especially now."

"I'm not doing anything to you, you're doing it to yourself. The lie. The hypocrisy is gradually devouring the essence of who you are."

"No offense. This is my life. I'll have to live with the consequences. I decide on my time line."

"No offense, witnessing you suffering is a consequence I deal with in real time."

My cynicism dissipating, I curl my legs at the knees, tucking them under me. Wading in the shallow end, gradually I descend into the breadth of his anguish. "I'm so sorry Luke."

He tucks strands of hair behind my ear. "No apologies necessary, just consider the unfair burden."

"To you it's a burden, to me it's a mission. My only mission. Keeping you alive. Sure, as I'm sitting here, Christian's jealousy will drive him to kill you. And I would lose both of you. What about my essence then Luke? I wouldn't survive."

"No one's going to die. That's the movies Ana. Not real-life. Engage the pragmatic portion of your brain, you've unearthed. You're one hundred percent correct, he will want to kill me. But he won't. He couldn't. He's a tyrannical asshole, not a murderer. I'm surprise I'm the one pointing this out. Unless I'm to believe you'd sleep with a killer?"

"It isn't a chance I'm willing to take."

"What if the choice isn't yours."

"Luke."

"Don't worry, I'm not betraying you. There are other forces at work, bigger than you or me."

"Gah. How did we get here…how did **I** get here? Never mind me, I'm babbling."

"If it helps, Grey loathes Leila Williams. Hell, we all do."

"Not really." I blow an irritating hair strand from my central vision. "What was she like? I know Lulu, but I have this sick preoccupation with knowing Leila, and what her time with Christian was like."

The spray in one hand, he leaps to his feet. "Walk and talk? The bugs are getting out of control."

Clutching Christian's blazer, I take his proffered hand. "Thanks." Once I'm standing, Luke squats picking up the blanket. "So."

"I don't have much. It's my understanding their relationship, contractually speaking, was the lengthiest, and most substantive-"

"So, he did love her."

"You're putting words in my mouth."

"She was in love with him."

"So was the all of Seattle. Don't take this the wrong way. Christian Grey's effect on women is legendary."

"This was different." My heart smarts from the truth. "From the moment, her chestnut brown head bowed, I knew it was him. I made the connection." My voice cracks.

"Do you want to stop. Talk about it."

"Nah. The walking is therapeutic. It's aiding the fresh clean air, in cleansing my lungs, and each time a flower petal brushes against my skin, it reminds me beauty still exists in the world." Closing my eyes for a brief moment, I step blindly through the valley into her shadow. "There was this one time when she was madly in love. The evocative memory is an isolated pixel in my mind- Lulu genuinely content, and happy was rare." My eyelids creep back, Luke's measured gaze is on me. "Naïve, and stupid I'd prayed to God, she would marry the mysterious man. Unwittingly, I was casting her in my role."

"You and Grey transcend logic, and reason. No one was going to block the inevitable. I should know. You were two forces careening towards each other. He's your destiny, not the conspiracy theory you've concocted."

"Are we destined to crash and burn." My eyes focus on our footsteps as we wander through the colorful lush field.

"Depends on you. Contrary to popular belief you don't find happiness, you create it."

"I'm a hopeless romantic, and I don't know what true happiness is anymore. What it looks like. Feels like."

"Love."

"And what is love? This. The queasiness in the pit of your stomach. Free falling, without a net."

"Yes, and so much more. Love is a transitive verb. It arouses you awake in the morning. Lulls you to sleep at night. Secures a lifeline when your sinking, and lets it go when you're soaring to unimaginable heights."

Abruptly I come to a standstill, and stare intently, into eyes so richly saturated with blue, they make the sky above weep with envy, and the tides of the ocean rage with righteous indignation. "The harsh reality- I'm damned if I do, and damned if I don't."

His finger slips under my chin lifting my drooping my head. "I have something to show you."

"What."

"Start walking you'll see," he says, beating a path the short distance to the truck.

"Darn," I shriek.

Luke ganders a peek over his shoulder. "What's wrong now," he roars.

"Christian. He doesn't know where I am. I never called. He's going to be furious."

Pausing Luke gives me time to close the gap. "Don't worry, he knows."

"How? When?"

"Garage. Technically, I texted T. You were too inward to notice. I knew the guy would be worried. There was no need compounding his misery. Not to mention, have him call the Governor, demanding he calls the National Guards into action."

I giggle. "You think of everything. You're so thoughtful."

"It's my job."

"Partly. But mainly it's your character. I wouldn't have handled this same situation with the same poise, and understanding, if the shoes were on the other foot." I give him a good-natured poke with my elbow. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Everything. Primarily for being my friend under inauspicious circumstances."

"Everyone has their lot in life. You're mine." He touches my back. "Come."

"Lead the way." Draping the blazer on my shoulders, I trail him the few feet to the SUV.

Emptying his hand inside the trunk, Luke reach's further inside, and comes out holding a tan leather bound book. The gold lettering, shimmers in the late afternoon sun light. "Congratulations. Happy graduation."

I smooth my palm over the cover, the leather is like cashmere to the touch it is so soft. "Luke. This is exquisite."

"It's a journal." Outlining the inscription, Live, Love, and Laugh, with my fingers, I thumb the cover to the blank page and imagine all the words I will use filling it to the brim.

"I love it."

"You said make it appropriate."

"Not only is it appropriate. It's right on time. A prime example of your skill. Giving to me what I need, exactly when I need it."

"It isn't hard actually-"

"Oh." I shrink back. "I'm that predictable, huh."

"Nooo. You're predictable in your unpredictability. When will it penetrate your thick scull, I listen to your every word. And you're a study in contradictions."

"Funny, Christian said something similar."

"Then he's aware of the same thing I am. You dream big, but it's the smallest gestures you're touched by the most," he says longingly. "The journal seemed like the perfect companion to your keepsake box. You can jot down your thoughts, not simply lock them away."

"A dangerous proposition."

"Then use it to write the next great American novel."

"Right. I'll stick with jotting, starting tonight."

"My cue, I'd better get you home. Kate's or Grey's"

"Kate's"

The door opens, I climb inside, Luke closes it, and then jogs to the driver's side. Sliding in behind the steering wheel, he peers into the rearview mirror. "Work. Monday."

"Yes, but at 8 I have a physical with Dr. Green."

He adjusts the mirror, so it's directly on me. "Check in with Grey. Me notifying him, doesn't give you a pass."

"Later." Slouching back on the leather, I cock my head to the side tapping the edge of the door panel. "I wanna nap."

"Annah"

"Luke"

"Okay. Petulant Ana is in the house." Readjusting the mirror, he starts the engine, intentionally thrusting the gear into drive. I jerk in my seatbelt, and the SUV accelerates. We creep along the back-country roads, the bumps easing me into a light sleep that deepens with the smoothening of the ride on the interstate. When I awaken, Luke is parking behind the twin monster. "We've got the gas. We could make a Thelma and Louise type get away."

Yawning, I get my bearing. "Including the drive off the cliff."

He cuts the engine. "Hmm, forgot about cliff dive."

We guffaw, and I collect my things, as he extricates himself opening my door. "Don't leave. If you do, Christian won't," I say, when I'm standing with him on the sidewalk.

"I'm sorry. He signs the check, he says jump, I say over what."

"Miss Steele." At the sound of my name, I roll my eyes at him, before strutting to where Mr. Taylor is holding the ajar for me.

"Hi Mr. Taylor." He nods, and sidestepping him I scramble inside only to be greeted by a patent Christian Grey scowl. "Why are you carrying my jacket, and not wearing it?" he barks, the door closing with a thud.

Defiantly, I sit. "Hi, to you too Christian." Placing my stash on the seat between us, I grace him with a condescending smile.

"I'm sorry." He extends his arm, his fingers skate along my jawline. "I miss you." His voice faltering, the strokes become feathery. "Tell me what I have to do." I rotate my body to him, and his hand descends.

"I don't think we should get married-"

"What!"

"I was about to say so soon."

Yanking his arm back, Christian runs his hand through his hair. "Are you breaking off the engagement."

"Listen, Christian. You want me to tell you what I want? I want time. I need time. We're moving too fast. Our courtship was a whirlwind. The marriage doesn't have to be too. My life is changing at warp speed, and I'm unraveling in the chaos of it. The woman who dumped the carnage at my feet, once meant the world to me. She wasn't simply a friend, she along with Ray embodied the entirety of my familial unit. Losing her presence in my life is like a death in the family, and I need to treat it as such. Grieve, then I can move forward. Grieving properly is one positive take away from my time with the infamous Dr. Ryan."

"Exactly why I should be with you, to help you through the process."

"I'm so sorry. Something else she taught me- it is on my terms. To some degree, we've both been battered, and I wish I could handle the mess with the maturity, your high standards demand, and the grace your mother has taught me. Unfortunately, the emotions in me haven't manifested themselves into a tower of strength. I'm revealed to be the same weak, little girl on the docks..." The welling tears fall. Instinctively, he lunges for me, but my hands jut out. "Give me a minute."

He slumps back in his seat. "Fuck. Going after me is one thing, but hurting you-"

"Christian, please no more threats. I've heard enough. Watching you handle your submissive is enough to last me a lifetime. And if it was just this one thing... but it's one thing after another. The accumulative effect of everything is what I'm dealing with."

He cuddles my hand, his thumb flutters over my skin. "I don't see you as weak, but if it is how you feel I am here. Waiting. Let be your rock. Come home with me."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"The walls were closing in, choking my inside. It was smothering me. I felt like I was dying Christian."

"I'll move. Problem solved. We'll stay at the Four Seasons tonight, and I'll buy a new place in the morning. Any suggestions?"

I wrench my hand from him. "A simplistic, but unrealistic solution to a complex problem."

"Unrealistic, I can afford to purchase a million places, and I will purchase a million more until I find the one you want to call home, because for me home is where you are. Be it A mansion, shack, or a barn. My money isn't driving me, you are."

"Don't get crazy. Give me the remainder of the weekend."

"Tonight. You can have tonight. Tomorrow you'll come home, where ever you choose."

"Escala is fine. There's no negation. The weekend. Monday after work, I'll meet you at Escala." Patting his jacket, I land on a spot. "Grass stain- "

"Fuck the stain, and the jacket."

"Christian, if you coerce me, you may lose me-" A loud rumble roars through the interior, cutting me off from my bold declaration.

"You're hungry. Of course, you are. You never ate lunch. I'm feeding you."

"Christian, I'll eat here." I retrieve my gift from under his jacket. "Thank you though. If we have dinner, I know how it will end."

"Would it be so bad? Me and you, burying ourselves in each other. Reconnecting. It would solve all our troubles-"

"I view it as an added complication. More like burying the problem. We're the definition of madness. We repeat our mistakes over and over. Reaching a climax, isn't the same as reaching a solution."

He can't corral the flirtatious glint toying with the corners of his mouth. "Maybe. But the climb would be so worth it."

I clutch the journal to my chest. "I'm getting out of here before your sexpertise have me out of my panties."

He peels, my arm back. "What's this?"

My gaze drops. "A graduation present from Luke." Seizing it, Christian peruses the cover. "The quote. Any significance," he says flipping it back.

"Nope," I reply, "it's a journal."

"So, it is." Scanning the blank page, he scours my face. "It's you." He hands it back to me.

I study the book, and his profile. "You're not infuriated?"

"Why? Should I be?"

"Absolutely not, normally you're more animated when it comes to other men gifting me with things."

"Have I missed something. How many gifts have you gotten from other men?"

Grinning, I press the diary to my chest. "There's, the Christian Grey I was expecting."

"Were you trying to incite me into a jealous rage Miss Steele. Is it why you, flaunted it in front of me."

"Flaunt. Hardly. It was an innocent-"

"I'm teasing. Luke is your CPO, not a rival. In his role, it's reasonable he'd give you a present for your graduation. Now, if were something more provocative, I'd fire his ass."

Giggling, I bite my bottom lip, and the jacket flies to the floorboard, the journal to my lap as Christian drapes his arm over my nape touching my head to his. "What are you doing?"

"Making sure you come back to me." Christian's head dips, and mildly I protest as he breaches my mouth. Brushing my lips apart, he slips his tongue inside caressing the tip of mine. Then delving deeper, like a desperate man in love, he increases the passion of the kiss, at the same time, maintaining the tenderness, and the intimacy. "I love you," he murmurs.

"Christian."

Lightly he gnaws on my bottom lip. Letting go he joins his forehead to my head. "I was looking forward to sharing your first day of work with you."

"I'll see you for dinner."

"Dinner isn't the same as waking up next to you." His hand slips away, and so do our heads. Sitting back, he fingers the hair from my flushed face. "You're tired." There's a slight hesitation. "I did this to you."

"I am." Stumbling back into my corner, I force his fingers to dangle aimlessly. "But nothing a long soak in a hot bath, comfy pajamas, and a goodnight sleep can't cure."

He traces circles on the flesh of my thigh, exposed by the hiked hem of my dress. "Don't forget to eat." Billions of small quivers swarm me, as his long deft fingers create the intricate patterns.

Sliding his hand to the leather seat, I rub my stomach. "Trust me, I won't." Giggling, I open the door, and his hand latches on to my forearm.

"Don't go." Getting lost in his pleading eyes, warmth fills my cavernous chest, melting the razor thin sheet of ice separating us. Slipping on the run off, I'm painfully aware of the shift of the balance of power to in his favor, and as my body shudders for his relief, his phone beeps breaking the spell.

Gasping, I glance heavenward. "Answer it."

"Let it ring."

"Christian..." My breath hitches. His name a warning plea on my lips, when secretly I wish he would. I'm so close to the edge, I just need a nudge. Then unsuspectingly, the crack in the door widens stunning me. Unbeknownst to me, Mr. Taylor was lingering on the other side. "Goodnight." Hurriedly, I duck under his arm, before one more pining glance can be exchanged between Christian and me.

"Taylor. I want this place monitored all night. Luke inside the apartment, not the SUV. Make sure he's aware." His gruff voice carries into the early evening air, as I join Luke on the curb.

* * *

**Kate's POV**

Juggling bags, and a purse, I kick the door open. A head full of glistening stringy hair shoots up from behind the back pillows of the sofa. "Ana. Honeymoon over already."

"Need some help?"

"Nope. I got it." Dropping a bag, I lock the door. "Did you text or call me?"

"You won't believe my day," she says, her dangling over the back of the sofa.

"Hold the thought." The remaining bag hits the floor. "I can tell this is going to be good." Tossing my purse into a bag, I scamper to the sofa. "I want to be seated for it." Ana draws her legs and I have a seat. We regale about the fond memories we shared in the apartment in Portland, and then I slap her on the feet. "Enough reminiscing. Spill."

"Kate, this is off the record."

"Is there any other kind of conversation betwixt us. I'm your girl first, and a reporter second. Your engagement to the megalomaniac hasn't changed the dynamics of our relationship an iota."

"Thank you. Considering the day, I've had that's comforting."

"You got me, I'm intrigued. What's going on? Mr. Moneybags, couldn't have blown it, this quickly."

"Lulu. I mean- Leila Williams is Christian's ex-girlfriend- Lulu is Leila Williams."

I steady her trembling hands. "Breathe." She takes a clarifying breath. "Say it again. This time more slowly."

"Lulu is an imposture. Her real name is Leila Williams, and she's an ex-girlfriend of Christian's."

"Ruh Roh."

Ana tears her hands away. "Kate stop. I don't want to laugh. This is serious, your stupid Scoopy impression isn't fitting," she says, wiping the water from her eyes.

"I am serious." I bounce to my feet.

"Where you're going?"

"Bitch is a fraud. I've been vindicated. I'm getting me champagne to celebrate, and you some water."

"Kate."

"Don't Kate me. The classless woman has given me the business from the moment I'd met her, and because of you I took it." I traipse to the kitchen. "Have you eaten?"

"Yes, there's pizza, and salad in the fridge if you want it."

"I could eat, but pizza isn't calling my name." Opening the fridge, I grab two bottles of water. Exiting, I set the waters on the counter and stare out into the living room. "The tidbit about an ex-girlfriend, is the only part of the story, I'm remotely interested in. There's a scoop there."

"Semantics, I know, but I prefer ex-girlfriend."

"Whatever." I toss the caps into the trash.

"What happened to the champagne?"

"It's too early, and I should eat first."

"Thank you," she says, grabbing a bottle from me. "Too bad, I wasn't blessed with you Spidey senses because the news was quiet the punch in the gut."

I sit in the side chair, adjacent to the sofa, giving her the room to sprawl out. "How did you find out?"

"The horse's mouth, she finessed a lunch invitation out of me-"

"Hoe."

"For the first time, I agree with you." She sips the water. "I was expecting a bigger reaction from you."

"I'm sedate because at the end of the day she's out of your life. Her presence in your life, was always unnerving to me. The way she tried to control you. Good riddens." Throwing the bottle back, I take a swig of the cold liquid. "Now. Why are you hiding out on my couch dressed in my broke- hearted jammies?"

"Needed some space."

"From who?"

"Christian."

"Wait. Was the asshole hooking up with the skank on the side?"

She recoils "Oh God, No."

"Chill. Just checking."

"If it were the case, I'd be devastated."

"And this isn't devastated?"

"Remind me why I came here."

"You need a swift kick in the ass." Setting the bottle on the table, I hustle to the edge of the chair. "Girl, you should have your legs wrapped around your man fucking his brain out, and conspiring with him on how to bring the bitch to heel. I know I've skipped the details, but your aiming your venom at the wrong person."

"You're echoing Christian. Sex can't solve everything."

"Who's talking about everything. I'm on one specific tip. Trust me girl, when it comes to bitches like Lulu Leila Williams, sex is your best weapon."

"Listening to you, it's as if I'm at war."

"Damn." Sliding from the chair, to my knees, I hustle to Ana gripping her hand. "I'm sorry, but your ring distracted me." This has to be the largest diamond I've ever seen."

"Oh yeah, this is your first time seeing it. Gaudy, don't you think. It's so not me."

"And the chip Luke gave you is?"

"Low blow."

"Accept it, you're marrying a wealthy man. The ring is an outward expression of how much he loves you."

"What is wrong with society? The assertion is a knock on hard working men and women everywhere. The ideal that a smaller diamond means they love their love one less is ridiculous. Measuring love by the size of a carat is failing to understand love."

"Says, the woman with the 10-carat diamond rind." I hop back in my chair. "Look, you're taking my words out of context. I'm not backpedaling. It wasn't mean-spirited, however, when it comes to diamonds size does matter, but I don't want to offend the near do wells."

"How beneficent of you. "

"What. Ever." I wave her off. "Girlie. Get off my sofa. Forget about the witch. Go to your man."

"If only it were the simple."

"Sure, it is."

"Luke thinks I should be honest with Christian. What do you think?"

"Fuck Luke. He has a dog in the race, and you're the dog. You're playing the hand you were given. Play on Player."

Ana howls. "Kate, you're killing me. You're so white. Luke pokes fun at me, he should hear you." His name is no longer a perfect fit on her lips, I wonder if it's me or it's just as obvious to her ear.

I comb my fingers through my hair. "I had to get us off the philosophical kick. Your predicament doesn't call for deep thinking. It's screaming chocolate ice cream." I leap to my feet. "You're dressed for it, so let's christen this place with an official girls' night out."

"Ice cream on an empty stomach, not champagne. What a switch."

"Ice cream is a food group. Dairy."

"You get no arguments from me," she says, and there's a knock at the door. "It's Luke. I forgot to ask. He's staying her. Christian demanded it."

"Sure. I'm going to my room."

"Why? Say hi at least."

"Okay. Get the door before he kicks it in."

Bouncing to the door, she negotiates the trap, I left on the floor. "Come on in, Kate's here."

"Hello Luke."

"Hello Kate."

"Why so formal, you'd think you guys had never met."

I pick up the bags. "Let me get dress, I'm going dancing."

"What about the ice cream?"

"Dancing or ice cream, I'd choose dancing," Luke says, and his attempt to get rid of me stings, even though I'm just as disappointed with the threesome.

* * *

**Sunday**

Reciting the words to myself, I disembark from the elevator strategizing on how I'm going to string them together into a coherent sentence and I bump into a brick wall. "Baby."

"Christian."

He hauls me into his arms. "What a surprise."

"I could say same thing. I wasn't expecting you to be stationed directly in front of the elevator," I mumble.

He laughs. "It's your fault. Since you left, my ears have been so tuned into it I can hear it climbing." Untangling his arms, he drapes one over my shoulders guiding me to the breakfast bar. "Luke didn't notify Taylor. At least he didn't tell me." Relieving me of my purse, Christian places it on the counter.

I angle my body to him. "Thank you."

"You're timing is impeccable, I was making a sandwich-"

"Youu," I exclaim, "you say it like it's an everyday occurrence." He beams.

The sheepish smile invites me into his past. He's a small boy, seeking his neglectful mother's praise, and approval. The vision of his tiny crestfallen face sends me spiraling deeper into the depth of my despair. "Anastasia."

My lashes flutter. "Huh."

"I thought I'd lost you," he says helping with my coat.

"I'm proud of you."

"Save the participation trophy." He chuckles. "It's a sandwich not beef wellington."

"Beef what?"

"It isn't important, I'm only fending for myself, because I gave Gail the weekend off. I didn't want her feeling sorry for me."

"We're alone."

"Yes. Taylor's handling something for me." I study his face, stockpiling the memory of every nook and cranny for later, in case this is the last time he looks at me with love in his eyes. "Anastasia, what is wrong, you keep going into these trances."

"Nothing, I'm getting reacquainted with the place."

"It's only been 24 hours."

I drag the coat from him, slinging it across a stool. "Christian, we need to talk."

Terror flashes in his eye, they dart around the room before his petrified stare fixes on me. "You're breaking off the engagement aren't you," he says, softly.

"Must you jump to worst case scenario?" Audibly, I sigh. "For once I'd like to have a civilize discussion."

"Is this when, I point out, you're the only one with the raised voice."

"You're right. I'll stay calm, if you promise me to do the same," I say, and his phone beeps. "This is getting to be a habit."

"There's unrest at my Mexico facility, I have to answer it." He lifts the phone from the counter. "Roz. Hold a second." Muting the phone, Christian picks up my hand. "I'll get an update. Then you'll have my undivided attention."

"Go."

"Talk to me, Roz."

Eying the sandwich on the kitchen counter, I wait for him to disappear down the hall, and I scurry to investigate his culinary handy work. But my snooping is thwarted by the ping of the elevator accompanied by ear an ear piercing shrill. "Christian! Christian! Christian!"

Dashing to the edge of the kitchen, I confirm what's vibrating in my disbelieving ears. Elena screaming for Christian like a banshee. "Keep your voice down he's on the phone."

With surgical precision, her icy glare dissects every inch of my body. "What are you doing here?" Sticking her pronounced nose in the air, she makes a meal out of removing the ivory leather gloves from her pointy wrinkled fingers. "You're not the lady of the manor. Not just yet. And if I have it my way, you never will be," she crows, stuffing the disguise masquerading as a fashion statement into her purse. She then proceeds to unload the bag onto the decorative table at the elevator.

"Oh, no you don't." I bolt from behind the breakfast bar. "You're not staying." A fit of juvenile fancy afflicts me, and I taunt her with my ring, stoking her envy induced wrath. The odorous smell of her pungent perfume strangles me as I pluck the luxury bag from its perch.

She unleashes a maniacal cackle, grating on my nerves like nails on a chalk board. "He's done me proud, but if you think it gives you some super hero powers, you're tragically mistaken. My roots are in him. I helped him through school. His business. His extracurricular activities. I've groomed him into the man you're enjoying. I laid the rungs at his feet so he could ascend the ladder of success to power, and I'm not going to let a simpleton like you undo my handy work."

"Who do you think you are God."

"My control over him is more powerful. Did he tell you, I picked out this place for him, along with the furniture, including the bed he takes you in every night, down to the sheets. So, in the scheme of things, you're a minor distraction. When he's had his fill of you, he'll come back to me. He always does." In a dismissive manner, she sweeps her arm out in front of me. "Now. Make like the delinquent you are and skedaddle."

Staring directly into her cold dark arrogant eyes, I question her fashion choice of the dated matchy-matchy ensemble. "I asked nicely." My syrupy sweet tone scoffs at her derisiveness as I hoist the coveted Birkin bag in the air unceremoniously dropping it to the floor.

Gasping, she immediately stoops. "You little bitch," she growls, as she retrieves it. "I'd under-estimated you." Standing upright she thrusts her arm through the straps. "Trust me, it won't happen again."

"What are you planning Elena." At the same time, our heads zoom towards the sound of his voice. Christian's calm demeanor is contradicting the chilliness.

"Christian. Thank God." Depositing the bag on an empty stool, she slithers to him, Christian scuttles her brazenness. Zigzagging, he makes a bee-line for me. Elena overplayed her hand, her confidence in the bond they'd forged during their sick twisted liaison, blinded her to his new reality. Broadsided, she spins on her heels. The missed lines on her Botox laden face hardens when she eyes Christian's arm weaved around my waist. Squaring her shoulder, she sizes us up. "Cute. Too bad it's no longer funny. Fucking her is one thing. But marriage, Christian. Please. We don't do love. You don't do love. Love's for fools. The institution is too small, it can't contain your desires, and the mousy bitch sure as hell can't satisfy them." An evil smile kisses her slip. "My pet- "

Ripping away from Christian, I charge Elena striking her cheek, slapping the word out of her mouth. Her face whips to the other side, as the sound reverberates in the room. "That's for the young boy you corrupted." Craning my neck, I resist gouging her eyes out. "You vile she-devil. "Cupping her red face, she nurses the bruise I'd inflicted on her ego, as the simmering disdain she has for me reaches the boiling point. I don't care, it is no match for my fury. I tattoo my hand print on her other cheek.

"Baby." Christian seizes me by the arms hauling me back.

I kick my feet. "That one was for the man," I spit out as I just miss nicking her tall ivory stiletto boots.

"Get the fuck out Elena!"

"You're making a grave mistake Christian. Contrary to what she'd have you to believe, this isn't a Disney film. You're not going to go to sleep with the mousy bitch, and suddenly one morning wake up next to a princess." Clutching her purse, she flips the tail of the long ivory duster to the back, and hopping on her broom, she sails into the elevator.

"You're a vindictive sexual predator. You should be in jail. Your reign over him is over so, get over him, and while you're at get over yourself." I lunge at the elevator, again Christian drags me back.

"Baby, she's gone," he says inspecting my hand. "Both cheeks Rocky. Definitely, an Anastasia thing." He laughs. "Seriously, want some ice. Those were ferocious licks."

I yank my wrist from him. "Why didn't you defend yourself."

"It was a power play. She wanted to get a rise out of me. Excite me, and she maintains the control. What she didn't anticipate, was the uprising coming from you. It was a miscalculation she'll regret. She knows she lost. Not just a friend but a business partner."

"It boggles the mind, how you could remain friendly with her less more invest in her business."

"It's complicated." He runs his fingers through my hair to the end. "She didn't heed her own warning- she under-estimated you."

"I'm used to it. But I didn't realize how raw my emotions are from yesterday. I tired of being bullied. Victimized by vengeful women. I had to draw the line somewhere. I wasn't going to stand idly by for another round of Ana bashing, and this is your life, the BDSM edition. I hadn't planned on turning violent. Getting in the gutter with her. Then she called you out your name, it lit my fuse."

His hands slide up and down my shoulders. "The roles got reversed, you defended me."

"To the death, if you let me."

"Not to the death, but I feel blessed."

"Blessed sounds unnatural coming from your mouth."

"Losing you has humbled me."

"Christian you haven't lost me."

"Not yet, but I feel like I'm going to." His lids close and opens. "I hate to do this. The time is shit, but I have to postpone our talk."

"You're going to the Mexico."

Not if I can help it. Roz, some key executives, and I are convening at the Grey House, to negotiate talking points to help facilitate a solution, in hopes of avoiding a trip."

"Go. We'll talk when you're done."

"Wait here."

"Yes."

"There's a confidence about you, what has changed?"

"Tired of hiding, I want to be my authentic self."

"Astonishing evolution in just one night. It's sexy. Confidence on a woman is very appealing."

"The rage wasn't confidence, it was me being territorial."

"Even hotter." He scrubs his face. "Does this mean, I won't be blamed?"

"Clearly, this was all Elena. You're good, long as you can stem the flow of your hussies through here."

"Got you covered. Jason is on it." Tittering, he grabs his leather bomber from the closet. "I wish I had Mia's camera handy. Elena's expression was priceless. She wasn't expecting it. I'd venture, the last time she was slapped that hard, she was tied to a Saint Anthony's cross. Even then, it wasn't in the face."

"Go. Get out of here."

He pulls out his phone. "I'm getting Luke here." He glares at me. "Thought you'd pulled a fast one on me. I'm tabling it for discussion later. "

"I'm safe, aren't I? See, I can take care of myself. I'll be fine here, the circus has moved through."

Reluctantly, he stuffs the phone in his pants pocket. "I'll set the emergency lock on the elevator. It will require a key to gain entry to the apartment. I'm only relenting, because I trust you. You wouldn't knowingly put yourself at risk if it wasn't important."

"Save some of the empathetic attitude for later," I joke.

"You're scaring me." He kisses the top of my head, and putting on his coat, he slips inside the elevator. The doors close, and feverishly I start typing. Then it pings, my head pops up. Christian's straddling the middle of the doors, his outstretched arms holding them open. The ashen face is a glaring indication of trouble.

In a panic, I stash my hand behind my back. "What?"

"You're pregnant," he says verging on hysteria.

"Huh?"

"It's what you're struggling to tell me, you're fucking preg-"

"I heard you the first time," I say a surge of adrenaline pulsing through me. "I. AM. NOT. PREGNANT. There's no struggling, we haven't had the opportunity to have a conversation. Besides I can recognize what a monumental mistake a pregnancy would be. You're a great teacher, and I'm a quick learner."

"A mistake." He steps cross the threshold; the steel panels rumble as they crash together. "Having my child would be a mistake?"

"Really Christian. Is this some Jedi mind trick? You're no more interested in having a baby than you were a month ago. Your bewildered reaction is because I've adopted your stance."

"But you want children."

"And you don't. So, the veil attempt at reverse psychology, is pure manipulation, and you should be ashamed. The ploy is a means to an end. Control over me. Get me back." Relief is emanating from him, while I'm steaming.

"At least we're on the same page. I'm liking this new Anastasia." I reward him with a smile, when my immediate emotions are anything but happy. They're mixed at best, and resentful at worst.

"No more guessing. You'll drive yourself crazy, and me too. We'll talk when you get home." Flushed with jubilation, Christian hastily retreats to the elevator. Soon as I hear it descending I rush to the kitchen. My hunger, is usurping everything. Brooding over Christian's crusade against children, and following up with Luke.

Two fisting his shockingly well-crafted sandwich, I take a big bite. Savoring the taste, I slouch back against the counter devouring every bit of it. Placing the empty plate in the sink, I quench my thirst with some of the lemonade on the counter top, and then I head to the couch. The extreme hunger, followed by the persistent exhaustion, is draining me. Sprawling out on the couch, I aim to replenish my energy for the upcoming the battle with Christian.

"Anastasia."

"Christian," I croak.

"Baby, are you alright?"

"Yes. I fell asleep. The phone startled me."

"You didn't sleep either. Selfishly, the revelation is heartening."

"My night was restless, I've been overly exhausted lately." I yawn. "I have an appointment with Dr. Green in the morning. I'll ask her for a prescription... vitamins may-"

"You're ill!"

"Christian." Sitting upright, I throw my legs over the skirt of the sofa. "You set appointment weeks ago, you wanted me to evaluate other forms of birth control. Remember?"

"Right."

"You can stop gloating. You're so obvious, it's perceptible over the phone."

"I'm happy. It gives me hope for us." He pauses. "Listen baby, things are worse than I first thought. We're heading to Mexico, after all. "

"When."

"We're leaving straight away. Jason, is getting things set up. I want you to stay at Escala. I'll get Luke over there stat, don't bother trying to dissuade me."

"I won't."

"You've got me thoroughly intrigued, but I'm completely out of guesses." I tread lightly, the cursory teasing doesn't seem appropriate, considering the weighty implications of my disclosure.

"Stay safe." Getting him off the phone I dial Luke. "Hey."

"Ana."

"No time - Didn't tell him- He's going to call-"

"He's coming through now."

"Okay, bye."

* * *

**Monday**

"Ana." Barreling towards me, Elizabeth extends her hand. "Welcome." Her firm handshake grounds my quivering body, in the same way, her inviting smile livens my morning buoying my mood.

"Thank you."

Our hands come apart. The nerves besting me, awkwardly, I fidget with my ring sliding it back and forth around my finger. "Congratulations. Quite a surprise. Didn't realize I was hiring a celebrity."

I simper. "Hardly."

"Well, marrying Christian Grey has put you into the realm."

"Please. I don't want any special treatment."

"Too late. Your fiancé contacted the CEO directly, requesting or should I say demanding he finds a place for your bodyguard." She's nonchalant, but her assessment was accurate. I'm sure Christian threw his enormous power around.

"Despite my fiancé's unorthodox request, and uninvited intrusion into my work, please don't treat me differently. Pretty please."

"You have my word. I hired you because you have the skill set we need, not your social status. Trust me in a couple of days, I'll ride you in the same way I ride the rest of my staff." She points the large archway. "Your bodyguard will be located upfront, and this will be your cubicle. I hope it fits the bill?"

"It is perfect Elizabeth, and I'll inform Luke. He's outside."

"Good." A very attractive young woman with skin the color of pecan, and the texture of velvet, approaches Elizabeth clutching a large vanilla envelope.

"Morning Liz. A messenger dropped this off for you."

"Thank you." Elizabeth tucks the envelope under her arm. "Hannah, this An. Ana Hannah." Our fingers link in a weak excuse for a handshake.

"She doesn't need an introduction. She broke the internet."

"You're too generous."

"I can't believe you're going to be working here."

"Hannah, Ana doesn't want preferential treatment, as is SIP's policy. Every employee is treated equally."

"Where exactly are the rest of the body guards stationed?" Hannah quips.

Elizabeth removes the vanilla envelope from her armpits, slapping it into Hannah's hands. "Here. I'm going to my office. Help Ana with her paperwork."

"I love you too Liz."

Elizabeth shakes her head. "Ana I will confirm Tech Support has the proper credentials loaded on your computer and laptop. This your first day, you will be inundated with forms to fill out, and a sundry of other office issues to resolve. None the less, I want your limited time with us to be productive so; soon as, you're finished with Hannah get started on collecting specs for the electronic book project. I'll leave you ladies to it. Hannah page me if you need anything."

"I can't believe your playful banter with Elizabeth. And you call her Liz," I whisper, as Elizabeth clears the area.

Hannah escorts me to a conference room, her bohemian skirt flounces in the wind with the sway of her hips. "Elizabeth is cool. Don't get me wrong she can be a bitch. But I have a knack for worming my way into people's soft spot." Pausing at the door, she fishes for my hand. "How is it possible, your dainty finger holding up this huge rock?"

Embarrassed, I drag the finger away from her. "It's not heavy." I graze her chest, strolling through the opened door inside the expansive space. "In here is a lot bigger than I recall."

She laughs. "You were probably, nervous."

"You're right." Sitting at the long table, I dig into the packet, and one at a time I fill out the documents. Every T crossed, I dotted, and signature signed I return to my desk. I search for a pad before going to see Elizabeth, and my phone beeps. Stuffing my hand inside the pocket of my skirt, I pull it out. "Hello," I say, under my breath.

"Finally."

Rolling the chair from my desk, I close my eyes and slide into it. "What do you want?"

"To see you."

"You have me on the phone, you can tell me what you want."

"In person."

"Are you crazy?"

"Yes. And I'm at the Fairfield Inn at the Airport-"

"The Fairfield?"

"Thanks to your fiancé it's all I could afford."

"At least he left you with some money. I suggest you spend it wisely. Buy a ticket far away from here."

"You're testing my patience."

"Yours. I'm at work. This is my first day, I don't have time for this, and frankly I'm not in the mood for your drama."

"I don't give a damn about your mood, or anything else. If you want the fairytale to continue, you'd meet me. Come alone."

The phone goes dead, and I snatch the handset from the cradle on my desk, pressing intercom. "Ana."

"Hannah, answer yes or no, and never mention my name."

"Okay, but I just did," she whispers.

"Don't do it again."

"Gotcha."

"Is Luke at his desk?"

"Yes."

"Did you drive to work?"

"Yes."

"Can I borrow your car?"

"Yes. What about lunch."

"Tomorrow. I must take care of something. And please keep Luke upfront."

"I'll try."

"Act normal. Bring me the keys, and please tell Elizabeth I had an emergency if she asks. I'll be right back."

Hannah puts the keys in my palm, I sneak out the back exit, and drive straight to the hotel. When I enter the foyer, Leila is waiting for me. Her looks have changed along with her persona. She's still pretty, but the edges I thought had softened are showing their poisonous points. I stroll to the table, in the small café, and despite the brewing hostility our instinct is to greet each other warmly. Then reality interjects reminding us we're no longer on the same side. "I'm here," I say dragging out my chair.

"I want you to convince Master not to punish me-"

"You can't help yourself. I'm out of here," I say without taking a seat.

"You're not leaving, too many lose ends tying you in knots." She smirks. "Tell me Ana, what stings the most- finding out the way you did, or knowing I'd fucked your Christian?"

"You're irredeemable. I can't help you; I don't know why I came."

"Interesting choice of words, considering all I've done is help you. You owe me."

I sit. "Money. It's why I'm here. Go, ahead put a dollar figure on your humanitarianism."

She cackles. "Baby girl wants to play hard ball."

"You should've been a good submissive, listened, stayed away. You wouldn't be in this predicament."

"Oh, no she didn't. I'm in this predicament because of you-"

"You, are delusional"

"It should be me. Not you. I sacrificed my body for you, I slept with those men, to keep you pure."

"I am grateful to you. What you've done to me doesn't diminish what you've done for me, but it doesn't have the same cachet. And if you're honest, it was your form of therapy. Dulling the pain with what caused the pain, like with a flu shot, fighting the flu with the flu virus."

"Save the psycho-babble, let me answer the questions you're dying to know, and are afraid to ask. I fell in love the moment I set eyes on his chiseled jaw, and brooding eyes. We weren't in a smoky room, wreaking of cigars, and cognac littered with attractive young women, and a handful of wealthy old men. We were alone. " I scoot back, the light weight metal chair scrapes against yellowing tiled floor. "Don't you want to hear the rest?"

"No. I'm done." I rise.

"Ray came for you." Pausing she mocks me with her verbal insurrection. Curiosity weighs me down, and I sink into the chair. "I went home. I'd gotten word of my uncle's death. I thought the memories had died with him. Regrettably, I was mistaken. My parents tried. I tried, but the chasm between us was too wide a gulf to cross. The blame at dissipated; they did what they thought was best. It just wasn't the best for me. So, after floundering for a bit, I moved to Seattle. Started college. Through an acquaintance, I heard about these parties. They were billed as innocuous events where attractive young girls could go and meet very wealthy men seeking the occasional companion. I viewed it as harmless, I'd done more for less. After all, I could pay for my education. As it turned out they were BDSM parties for the elite. Not quite _Eyes Wide Shut_ but very close. So, what started out as something noble, escalated to forbidding very fast "

"Whose house, was it?"

"What difference does it make?"

"Curious."

"A friend of Elena Lincoln's, his business-"

"I'm well acquainted with Elena Lincoln." The raging blood thrums through my ear.

"I'm sure you are. They're like a matching set. She's how I met him. After years, of contracting with one old ugly frog after another, I finally met the prince. I couldn't believe my eyes. His face- "

"I get it. I'm not here to listen to you chronicle your history with BDSM."

"Excuse me. I don't have some worn out box filled with mementos, I only have my memories-"

"And a car. Fancy clothes. And expensive jewelry. Don't pull a con on me, you walked away with more than your** me-mo-ries**."

Swirling her spoon in the black coffee that has grown cold from neglect she glowers at me. The clicking against the inside walls of the mug ratchets up the tension sizzling over us, and as excruciating as it is for me to hear, I make the calculus that her objectionable purging is paradoxically cathartic for me. So, I settle in so she can twist the knife. "From the get go, he'd made it clear. I pretended it was my hard limit too. In the beginning, it was easy. Seeing him on the weekend, and every other Wednesday, it was sufficient. Until it wasn't. I held it in; long as, I could. I thought I was going to burst. So, I confessed to him. He was so cold to me. In an instant, I'd gone from the center of his world, to non-existent…" Her voice trailing, her fierce stare locks on me. "Things depreciate, love doesn't."

"I'm deciding if you're mentally ill, crazy like a fox, or evil personified?"

Unexpected, her features soften, and her chin trembles. "The warmth in his eyes when he looks at you. He worships you. He sees you." An awkward pause, effortlessly changes into an even more awkward gaze of adoration. Piercing eyes, the mirror image of mine, are tiny pin pricks to my hastily constructed defense shield.

"Crazy like a fox it is. What game are you playing?"

"You're lucky. His love for you is palpable. It is all I craved. He is all I've ever wanted. You couldn't let me have him. This one thing. I'd done everything for you, and you had to take the one thing I wanted the most in the world."

"Listen to yourself. He's not an object. You talk about him as if he's a tube of your favorite lipstick I stole from your purse." I jump to my feet. The chair tumbles to the floor. "He's human being. I doubt you can see past his decadent lifestyle to see him."

Like a viper her hand snaps across the table snagging my wrist. "If you want the precious fairytale life you've erected in the snow globe to stay intact, I'd have a seat or I'll prick the fragile glass making it go poof into the fake snow." Snatching my wrist from her prison, I set the chair upright, and begrudgingly I low myself into it. "Good girl."

"This is getting old."

Thrusting her elbows on top of the table, she bumps the coffee mug, spilling some of the crude liquid over the lip. "I'm not Lulu. I'm not asking. I'm not even demanding. You're playing a dangerous game. Luke. Aha, just the reaction I was expecting. My intuition never fails me," she brags.

In a calm dignified manner, I stand. "Have a good life."

To the casual observer, I'm unruffled, but I'm a mass of fluttering butterflies as I will my spine rod straight. Storming past her I drift too close, and she catches a piece of my coat. "Snow." My head whips around. "Protect yourself. Master-" I rip the coat from her grip. "Oops sorry. I mean Christian doesn't share!" The ominous warning wrapped in a blatant threat dies in the hotel lobby when I burst through the glass doors. The crisp air on my face reignites my excitement in our future.

Light freeway traffic, favorable green lights, and a miracle from above help propel me to the building within a reasonable timeframe. Sneaking back in the same way I snuck out, I prepare to slip into my cubicle undetected. "Outside," Luke snarls when I'm in his line of sight.

"But I-"

"What. Work? You're concerned about work." His nostrils flaring, I set my purse on the desk, and like a chastised child, I paddle behind him. I have Hannah's keys ready for her, but she's not at her desk, so I palm them. Luke barges through the door, my hands fly up preventing the heavy glass from smacking me in the face. "What the fuck were you thinking," he screams when I join him in the cramp enclosed glass entryway.

"Leila," I blurt out, as if her name is the cure for some exotic disease.

"What about Leila?"

"She demanded an in-person meeting, and stipulated I come alone."

"Did she also tell you to hop on one foot?"

"You're being a jerk."

"And you were reckless. You took an unnecessary risk ditching your detail. You're an avid TV watcher. This is the oldest plot in history. Has it ever worked out favorably for person not doing the summoning?"

"I'm not as stupid as you think, I was in a public lobby."

"Are you trying to get us in trouble. We're lucky Grey, and T. are knee deep in the Mexico bullshit or you'd get your wish. He would kill me."

"She's blackmailing me." Luke gapes at me. "Leila is blackmailing me with our relationship."

"How?" He rubs his hand over his military cut. "You never introduced us."

"But I left a trail of bread crumbs for clues."

"Is there a line she won't cross? This time she's gone too far- her fatal mistake-"

"Please. Not you too. I've had it with the threats."

"I'm just saying the bitch is crazy- "

"Like a fox, is what I've discerned. She's switched this whole episode into her advantage." I sigh. "You can excoriate me later, at this moment I'd like to focus on something I can impact. Salvaging my first day at work, and my job."

"Before you go I've been meaning to ask, how was your Dr's appointment. You've been off all morning."

I roll my eyes. "Luke my world is hanging on a hope, and a prayer, and you're questioning my mood."

Cautiously, he lifts my hand from my side. "She thinks she has the upper hand." He sports a knowing smile, but when I don't share in his optimism it turns sour.

Pivoting forward, I push through the door to the lobby leaving a noticeably frustrated Luke in the entrance. Hannah's apologetic face greets me. "Sorry," she mouths as I continue her desk.

I hand her keys. "Don't be."

"Looks like you were getting an earful."

"Nah," I say. "Thank you. Your Acura is super-fast. Christian would die if he knew I was driving a car with so much horse power."

"I forgot to mention. Baby has to be handled with care." She giggles. "You're free to borrow her any time-"

Slapping the desk top, Luke breaks in. "This was the last time."

"You're not the boss of me."

"I'm not, but I have my eyes on young lady. Stop aiding and abetting." Hannah's silky brown cheeks turn crimson red, as Luke playfully teases her.

Leaving the two of them, to their flirt fest, I plant myself in my cubicle for the rest of day. By 5:00 I'd accomplished everything on my to-do list. The entire project was mapped out, and ready for Elizabeth. Despite the inauspicious beginning to the day. Pleased with what I had accomplished, I drag my weary body home to get dolled up for Christian. Ambling off the elevator, I set my purse on the counter, searching for Miss Jones. "Let me."

Squealing, I jump. "Christian." He removes my hand from my chest, sliding the trench down my arms. "You scared the crap out of me."

"I didn't mean to. I couldn't help it. You were so distracted."

Raising to my tiptoes, I throw my arms around his neck. "Marry me." The coat falls to the floor.

"I was under the impression I was."

"Forget all the craziness, and let's get married as soon as possible."

He unlocks my arms from his neck. "Tomorrow."

I bite my bottom lip "Too soon. I was thinking a month."

"You've made my day." His gray eyes bore into me. "I wasn't expecting this much great news, but I knew I had to get back to you. You were the only thing on my mind. I marked time, the same way I always do. By the last time, I see you, and when I will see you next."

"And here you are."

"I made everyone work through the night, and the day. I didn't stop to call you, for fear one second would cause too much of a delay."

"Stubble."

"Didn't even shave."

I rub my fingers over the short prickly hairs. "I like, the five-clock shadow, not sure about a full beard. I want to see your handsome face."

He cups my face. "Now. What's worrying your beautiful visage?" Dropping his hands, he plops down on a stool, dragging me between his legs. "Talk to me."

"Do you know how much I love you."

"Almost as much as I love you. Anymore is impossible." The tears start trickling.

He locks his hands behind my back, and angles his head to the side. "Please don't cry."

I sniffle. "Forget about revenge give Leila a million dollars"

His eyes widen. "Is this the thing you've been itching to discuss since yesterday?"

"Uh-huh. I want to put all the ugliness behind us."

"Will it make the tears disappear, and this line to go away?" Drawing his hand back, he outlines a frown line.

"Yes."

"She got to you."

I brace my palms on his chest. "She got to me a long time ago. She was there for me in some extraordinarily tough times. She didn't turn her back on me. I can't turn mine on hers."

"This doesn't compare."

"I'm not keeping score."

He kisses one cheek then the other. "I'll put the money in your account tomorrow, you can transfer it to her." He bends, and scoops me up in his arms he stands.

My arms encircle his neck. "What are you doing."

He heaves me in his arm. "Taking my soon to be wife to bed."

* * *

**Luke's POV**

Sauntering through the doorway, Kate skims her soft- pink painted nails along my chest. "Do you own a shirt?"

I close the door. "I thought you liked me shirtless."

She pivots. "No, I like you naked."

"Give it time."

Mischievousness tugs at the corners of her mouth. "Cocky."

"Confident."

Her scans the space. "Nice."

I escort her further into the room. "Me or the apartment?"

"Both, but this one time I'm referring to the apartment."

"What were you expecting exactly," I say, taking her coat.

"When it comes to you, I have no expectations."

"Would you like something to drink?"

"What I would like is a seat."

"My bad." I gesture to sofa. "Where are my manners-"

"How ironic, the exact question I asked myself the other day. After how you treated me, I don't know why I'm here."

"I called."

"You are a smug bastard?"

Reminding her of our inside joke, I make my pectoral muscles jump. "No, I just know what you like." Shaking her head, Kate sits. "Beer, water, or wine?"

"I'll have a Beer."

Inventorying the bottom rack, I take stock of the offering. "Domestic or imported?"

"Domestic." Selecting a bottle, I tap the stainless-steel door with my forearm. "Your sofa, might be the most spectacular sofa, I've seen in anywhere, forget a bachelor's pad. Masculine, with feminine lines."

I spread out two coasters on the coffee table, setting a mug on one the beer on the other. "And before you ask, Ana was not the decorator."

"Clearly, the girl has no sense of style. I'm surprise you mentioned her name. I thought she was off limits."

"She is, your tone inferred it."

"If you say so." Kate rubs her fingers over the sea glass coasters my sister gave me for Christmas. Or a housewarming gift. Or my birthday. Who can recall anymore. "What kind of bachelor are you? Your place is immaculate, and you use coasters. Nice coasters."

I plop down next to her. "This can't be abnormal for you. You hung out with Elliot Grey, he's no Neanderthal."

She fills the mug, and lounges back on the sofa. "I don't want to talk about Elliot."

Knocking back a swallow, I slam the bottle on the table, and leaning in I pull the mug from her lips. "Let's not talk at all." Setting it next to my bottle, I drag her closer to me.

"Gee, what happened to chivalry. You owe me an apology."

I unbutton one, then the next. Exposing her breastplate, I run a finger along it until I come to the clasp of her bra. "Sorry."

Her labored breath rushes over me. "If I didn't miss being fucked by you so badly, I'd tell you to kiss my ass."

"And I'd tell you drop your draws, and bend over."

She throws her arms around my neck, knocking me off balance. "I miss you. I miss this."

Laying back, against the arm of the sofa, I grab a fist full of her hair, yanking her head back. "You're a breath of fresh air, Kate Kavanagh. A woman who knows what she wants."

She plunges her tongue down my throat. "I want you. Now," she groans in my mouth.

Lacing my fingers in her hair, I shove her head into me intensifying the kiss. Tasting her strawberry tainted lips, I luxuriate in her fragrance-sophistication with a hint of spiciness. "Bedroom or right here?" I murmur.

She withdraws her tongue. "Bed." Crawling off of me, she sashays in the direction of my bedroom.

Reclining on the headboard, I watch Kate enjoy a peaceful sleep after our fiery sex sessions. The sheet rises and fall, with her chest, and I'm jealous of the intimate contact it has with her body. "Hello." Hurriedly, I pick up the phone before it wakes her.

"Luke."

"Ana?"

"Yes. Why are you whispering?" she says, whispering back.

"Give me a minute." Slipping on my pants, I creep out of the room "Go ahead."

"I'm telling Christian."

A rub my hand over my head, a clarifying question isn't necessary. "What changed your mind?"

"I want a full life with him. Not one built on half-truths and omissions. And longs as this is hanging over my head it will never happen. I'm still worried about you though."

"Don't."

"I can't help it. Please do me a favor. Get out of town. It's why I'm warning you."

"Are you sure you're prepared for the fall out."

"Don't waver on me now. I'm not sure, but if you're somewhere safe, I can handle what comes next."

"His retaliation is going to be brutal-"

"It will. The difference, this time I'd deserve it."

"I urged you fess up, not be a martyr. If he's too hard on you. Walk away."

"I can't. If I could. I would've. You're right, there's a magnetic force pulling us together. I have to trust in destiny."

"Touche."

"Thank you for everything. Most likely this will be our last conversation. I may text to confirm, but there won't be verbal communication. I'm 100% certain Christian will demand I stay away from you, and I want to honor him. My loyalties can't be divided. Christian will need my full attention, all my energy will go towards healing him, and our relationship." She pauses. "Perhaps, this would be a good time to visit her."

"Who?"

"The girl you're protecting in South America."

"There were lots of girls."

"Progress…more than you've shared this whole time." A nervous giggle slips out punctuating the gravity of the situation.

"When?"

"What?"

"You're going to tell him."

"I'm on my way to Escala."

"You're driving."

"I don't have a car remember. Uber."

"That won't sit well with Grey."

"The least of my worries."

"I wish I had words of wisdom. Fine time to fail you."

"You've never failed me. You were a terrific boyfriend, but you've been an even better friend." The nervous laughter, morphs into heavy sobs. "Bye Luke."

Pressing the end button, I drop the phone in the trash, and pour myself a stiff drink. The warm liquor coats the dull achiness expanding my chest. "She thinks the torch is dimming, but the embers are a roaring fire burning white hot from here."

Lowering the glass, I hold it at my lips. "I thought you were asleep."

"I was, the loneliness roused me." Keeping my back to her, I drain the glass. "What. You're not going to try and deny it."

I slam the tumbler down on the surface of the solid wood. "She's going to need you Kate."

"When has she needed me? If it wasn't Lulu, she had you and Christian-"

Sweeping my arm, I send everything crashing to the floor. The glass cracks, and the liquor splashes on my bare feet. "She's telling him the truth!"

I spin around. In the middle of my bedroom doorway, Kate is frozen in place. "She's coming clean?"

Struck by the allure of her uncontrived charm, I lounge on the edge of the liquor cabinet, and I take time to appreciate her. A woman so dialed into her strength, she pledges alliance to the bitch word. "Now you understand why she's going to need you. She won't have anyone else. Lulu's gone. Grey won't be there-"

"And you." She relaxes against the doorframe, her in your face beauty, mixed with the blatant sex appeal radiating from under my shirt is seductive. "You're letting her run you away again. So, she's telling Christian the truth. It's her shit. She told the lie, we were forced into covering up. I've paid her debt. Lulu has paid her debt. You've been paying it from the moment you'd met her. It's her time."

"You don't mean it. You've sacrificed more for her than anyone. Lies, and secrets, we all have them." I zero in on green eyes, I'd missed. Even from this distance they're telling

"When are, you leaving?"

"Soon as I can pack."

"I should get dress then."

"Kate." She hesitates. The silhouette of her back is just as sultry as her front. "You're selling yourself short. You are a magnificent woman. A loyal friend. You can't have what Ana has, but you deserve better than what men like Elliot and I have to offer you."

She whips around. "Making me your next target? Stop trying to break me, just so you can fix me. " I push off the cabinet.

"Who do you have, Kate?" I say to her, as I crisscross the room. The distance closes, and I encounter an unsettling sight. Her glistening cheeks. "It's okay to need someone." Grabbing her face in my hands, I skim my fingers over the dampness.

She knocks my hands away. "You don't know me. I'm not a quick read. Don't start something you don't have time to finish."

"You're strong, confident, and very capable. But you're also remarkably witty, generous, and loving. You posed the same question to me. Again, who do you have?"

"I also asked you why you loved her."

"Probably the same reasons you love him."

"Go hover in a corner. I'll be here for Ana." Storming inside the bedroom, she leaves me stranded in the doorway.


	53. Chapter 53

**Chapter 53: **A Dream Within A Dream

**Disclaimer: **FSOG belongs to EL James.

**A/N: **Thank you, and enjoy

_Take this kiss upon the brow!_

_And, in parting from you now,_

_Thus, much let me awow_

_You are not wrong, who deem_

_That my days have been about a dream;_

_Yet if hope has flown away_

_In a vision, or in none,_

_Is it therefore the less gone_

_All that we see or seem_

_Is it but a dream within a dream_

_Edgar Allen Poe_

* * *

Christian bench presses me as if I'm a sack of feathers, hoisting, and lowering me at will; kissing me, and liberating my hair. I treat him with the same desperation, biting his lip, and clawing at his tousled mop, as he carries me to the bedroom. If the fervor we're exhibiting is an indicator, our coupling will be counter to the romantic reunion we suffered in the kitchen. It's a matter the degree of the rawness, playful and rough or rough and punishing.

Kicking the door open, he stalks to the bed with purpose, and precipitously he ends the kiss. "I can't wait to get you naked." Pinning me to his body, he nabs the top sheet peeling it back.

Sloping, he plunks me down, plunging his tongue deep in my throat. We ravish each other, tearing at the other's clothes, and in some form of sexual wizardry he relieves me of my blouse before I can get a single button undone on his shirt. Dangling the garment in his hand like it is his spoils, abruptly Christian bolts upright. "I was so close." I whine.

A forceful gleam in his eyes, effortlessly he undoes the buttons on his shirt, slipping it off his strong shoulders baring his toned torso to me. I'm inundated with the urge to touch his rippled abs, but he bats my outstretched hand away. Then he taps my shoulder propelling me backwards. Breaking the fall, with my elbows, I drink him in as he continues to disrobe. My persistence is rewarded with a full- frontal view, but just when his growing package comes into focus, he lunges for my face. Cradling it in his hands, he tips my head back. "Your skin is flawless. Luminous. Soft. Pale. Hmmm," he moans, brushing my bottom lip with his thumb. "Shall I make it pink."

Doing my best, I mimic the mischievous glint in his eyes. "Yesss." The response was so emphatic my s hisses. In case he was posing a question requiring my consent, instead of laying out the framework for his will. I wanted to be definitive.

Treating my bra straps like slings, he draws them back, and let go. The pop stings. In a perverse kind of way, it is a revelation. An adrenaline rush. Smarting from the awakening, I lay motionless as he divests me of the bra, the rest of my clothes, and shoes freeing my vamp red painted toes. "STOCKINGS." Glaring at me, he hurls the high-heels over his shoulder, and like a big cat claiming his prey, he scales the bed. Writhing, I wallow in the silkiness of the cool cotton sheet soothing my over sensitized skin. "Don't get too comfortable," he says, weaving his fingers in with my fingers fixing my arms above my head.

"Impossible when you're doing the hovering."

He toys with the engagement ring. "My ring on your finger gives me so much comfort." Lowering his body, he parts my lips, slipping his tongue inside exploring every nook, and cranny of my mouth, as he grinds down on me, his protruding member poking the V buttressed by my thighs throwing fuel on fire already burning out of control. "You have no idea how much I want you." Thrusting his hips, he breaches the juncture, sliding his length up and down my slit. My spine curves, the friction generating a swarm of infinitesimal shivers down my back.

"Please, oh please," I beg.

His lips graze my chin, his fingers slip, the tips skate along my arms, as he begins a decadent descent down my body nuzzling my neck, planting searing kisses on the base of my throat, chest, and cleavage. He heaves each breast in his hands, kneading the engorged mounds, sinking his teeth into tender erect nipples. "I want to taste you." Gnawing on my slick skin, Christian knees my thighs apart, slithering to my wetness smothering his face in the apex of my thighs, the fresh stubble pricking at the enflamed flesh. It is harsh and titillating.

Sinking to the floor on his knees, he hooks his forearms underneath my bottom, hauling me down the bed until the curve of my hips is balancing on the edge. Then he dips his tongue inside my core.

I buck, from the subtle invasion. "Aha."

"Stay still." Splaying his hand on my abdomen, he pinions me to the bed, stiffening his tongue diving further inside the canal.

The bundles of nerves at the pit of my stomach are wound so tight, they detonate on contact. "Ohhh God," I cry out. My body convulsing, Christian introduces a pleasure principle, flicking my clitoris extending the explosion.

If orgasm denial is punishment, orgasm extension is its orphaned twin hedonism. "Are you still with me?" My lids flutter, as I discern exactly how to answer his prideful question. I'd survived the charge, but the extent of the collateral damage from the crash I'm still trying to ascertain.

"I think so." I pant. "Ask me in an hour."

"An hour. My legendary control is a myth when it comes to you. I won't hold out for the next minute. An hour is unconscionable."

Inclining up on my elbows, I peek down. "What just happened? More importantly, what did you do to your tongue since the last time." His head pops up from betwixt my thighs. In my hazy vision, I behold his whole mouth area glistening with my juices.

"Me. It was you. You were so ready, you were soaking. I didn't have to do much." Leaping to his feet, Christian climbs the bed, straddling me.

Wiping away the bead of sweat forming on his temple, I rake my fingers in his hair. "I'm a glutton when it comes to you." My head lolls to the side. "The more you give me the more I want."

He kisses the inside of my wrist. "After all my years, finally I understand what it is to be whipped."

I drop my hand. "Oh yeah," I mutter, my reentry to earth complete.

Angling his head down, he rims my lips, smearing them with the residual of my orgasm. "An insatiable desire," he murmurs, as he drives his tongue to the depth of my mouth.

Our heads twisting from side to side, my arms steal behind him, pressing his torso into me, as I feast on his tongue. His spicy masculine scent, mixes with my feminine taste, for a heady concoction. Dialing back the intensity, I disengage. "Your turn."

He dismounts. "No time. I need to be inside you." Standing, he grabs my ankles, repositioning my body.

My head seeks a pillow. "Don't," I say, when he lifts the clicker from the bedside table. "I like the silence. The innate noises two people make when making love that get can lost in the musical interludes, is what I want us to hear. The melodic thrumming of our hearts racing. The rustling of the sheets. My moans when you reach my prayers, and your guttural cries when you grant me access to yours. Let what we create be the aria."

The black device tumbles to the floor, and he leans on the bed pressing his knuckles into the mattress. "Bring your knees up," he orders, and glancing at my feet he chuckles. "That little while, and you made a puddle." I match his smirk, with a knowing smile.

"I've been waiting for this, since Saturday." His brows perk up.

"And you denied me. Yourself."

Engaging my core, I loop my hands in the space at the side of my knees, opening my nether region to him. "Not anymore."

"This is when a spreader bar would come in handy."

"I have no idea what it is. But I like it. Get it."

He shakes his head. "Baby, everything we need, is right in here." Christian parks himself on the bed, his hands creeping up between my thighs he plunges two fingers in my wetness stretching me. "I think you're ready," he says parting my folds, massaging the slick clit between his fingers.

"Chri-st-ian." I moan. He'd just made come like a roaring avalanche, and I'm threatening to come again.

"Yes, baby," he whispers, flicking the aroused nub with his thumb. "You look like a flower. Pink, wet, and steadily blooming."

"You can stop teasing me."

Retreating he comes to his feet, and fisting the base of his cock, he sidles up to my head. "Change of heart." Cupping the nape of my neck he lines my mouth with his erection. Lapping up the pearl of pre-cum on the tip, I spread my lips sucking him in. The pronounced veins on his shaft, pulsates in my mouth as the head of his member taps me at the back of my throat. "Fuck." Corralling my hair Christian yanks my head back. "Stop. I can't take it. I don't wanna come in your mouth."

Unlike all the other times, the sturdy mattress dips when he mounts. Hustling between my legs, he braces on my knees, shoving my thighs further apart easing inside me. Inching deeper his cock hits resistance. Christian has affectionately coined my lady bits 'paradise', he claims it is the best he's ever had due to the metaphorical hour glass shape. Per his account, when he enters me, it is warm and inviting, and the more he drills it becomes snug, and constricting. Heat like mine- 'The reason grown men weep when they're awake, and have wet dreams when they're sleep.' His exaggerated wording, but who am I to argue. "Gawd," I scream, his broad head plowing through the narrow opening as he slams into me.

Collapsing, he buries his face in my hair. "I got you, I won't hurt you." Supporting my head in the crook of his arm, he touches his mouth to mine, caressing my lips, kissing me sweetly. "Better."

"Uh-huh." I simper.

Flexing his hips, Christian coerces his erection even deeper into the channel, whispering in my ear. "I'm going to turn that pretty pink flower cranberry red." Rising to his arms, he rams his hardness into me slamming into my cervix. I teeter between, discomfort, and pleasure lingering on discomfort too long for my liking.

The naughty threat stirs me, and rattles me. Elena's mean girl jabs taunt me, resurrecting the insecurities lurking at the surface. The ridicules booming in my ears, I toughen up, and decide to use the naysayer's words as motivation. Shed my remaining inhibitions, embrace my sensuality, prove to him he'd made the right choice in choosing me. "Yes, fuck me," I cry out. Christian recoils. My crassness wasn't a lapse in judgment, it was strategic. Showcase my commitment to satisfying his needs no matter the shades of his darkness -I am his ride or die chick. Granted Queen Bey's fiery street lyrics don't compare to the staid libretto of the classics, but I'd die for you reads the same in any genre.

Regaining his composure, Christian simulates push-ups as he moves inside me. Undulating, I keep pace with his slow steady motion, meeting him stroke for stroke. "Ready baby," he warns, as he initiates a more punishing pace. The sweat dripping from his body, he pounds into me banging my head into the headboard. The pillow my only buffer.

"Chris-" Pressing down on his muscular arms, he covers my mouth swallowing my cries.

"I love the way your breasts sway when I slam..." He trails off, his body jerking in mid-syllable, and like a stallion he rears back. "Fuck Anastasia." He grunts, his orgasm hitting him hard and heavy. Riveted, by the artistry of the involuntary spasm of the sinew of his muscles, I spiral into the abyss, and as he ejaculates in me, I come.

Plateauing, he crumples and I clutch his body to mine. Sweat gluing us together, the faint raised surface of the tiny scabs dotting his chest burrows into my bosom. They're the only outward reminder of his tragic childhood, and reconciling the sad truth, I cling to him. The worst of it he's internalized. "I love you Christian Grey."

He exhales into my hair. "I love you too Anastasia Steele, soon to be Anastasia Grey."

I giggle, at the light-hearted banter he's infused into the melancholy I'd introduced into the room. "Anastasia Grey. I like the sound of it. Shall I practice writing it at work?" His response- labored breathing. "You. Alright…"

"Yes, and no. I needed that. But I swear you're going to kill me."

"You're going to kill me."

"At least we'll die happily together." Pulling out of me, he rolls to the side. His cum seeping onto the sheet, he lugs me with him, and we crowd the unused half of the luxe California king. "Is there another word for whipped?"

I snuggle in his side. "Um, let me think. There's beat as in beat an egg. And one of your favorites. Flog, as in to spank. As in the spanking I never got."

Flipping me, he draws me in his arms. "What about crave. Need. Must have. As in the way Poe obsessed over Annabel Lee, Mark Anthony hungered for Cleopatra, and Orpheus desperately loved Eurydice."

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I try to dab my eyes, but he's hugging me too tight to his front. "I prefer your list."

"Are you crying," he says, reaching for the top sheet covering us up.

I sniffle. "Maybe." I tilt my head back. "You're so poetic."

Coaxing my head down, he rests his chin on the top of it. "Thanks to you. It is your love that single-handedly resuscitated my heart. I'd love to be able, to pen a sonnet surviving our time on this earth, so every generation that comes after us will know how much one man loved one woman, and how fiercely he protected that love."

I nudge in his am. "Christian, I want to see you."

"I'm good."

"I'm not."

"Baby, I just need to hold you. I thought I'd never get the chance again." Removing one hand, he wipes under my eyes. "People may question your youth, but our timing is perfect. A moment too soon, and you wouldn't have been ready, one minute later and I would've been too far gone."

Closing my eyes, I allow the words to permeate my skin, leak into the bloodstream, and course through my veins feeding every fiber of my being. "Are you saying we're meant to be."

"Yes."

"I thought you didn't trust in luck or fate."

"When it comes to you, it has to be luck or fate. I've done nothing to deserve you."

Wiggling free, I flop to his front, flinging my arms around his neck. "I love you." He swaths me in me a loving embrace.

"I love you too."

Inclining back in his arms, I survey his face. "While you're content. Satiated. I'd like to make a confession. A couple actually."

He hustles ups the headboard, and I prop my chin on his chest. "You mean vulnerable, and you want to take advantage of said vulnerability."

"Yes."

He laughs, heartily. "And the lady has no shame."

"Shame I'll deal with later, I'm worried about repercussions."

"By repercussions, are we talking punishment? You don't want me to punish you."

"Yes, to include no yelling, bad attitude, or orgasm withdrawals."

"Orgasm withdrawals." He peers down at me. "Interesting. Does that mean spanking and punishment funk are on the table."

"To some degree."

Dragging his arm back, he locks them behind his head. "You have me so befuddled, at this point you can admit to any misfeasance, and I'd be agreeable."

I peer up at him. "Stipulation. Once I get started you can't make any comments or ask any questions until I get to the end."

"You drive a hard bargain, I should've taken you to Mexico with me. I accept your terms."

My face collapses to his chest. "I ditched Luke; in order, to make an in-person meeting with Leila Williams." Christian flinches, I acknowledge it with a slight pause, but no further engagement. "I took Uber on Sunday to see you, and Elizabeth added me to the list of attendees to a Publishing Conference. On Wednesday. In New York. "

"My turn?"

"Yep."

His arms drop. "I'm starting in the order of your presentation. Unacceptable. Jettisoning your security detail is unacceptable. It is reckless, and cannot happen again. Aside from conning my money out of you, what the fuck did Leila Williams have to say?"

"More of the same, but mainly she wanted me to convince you to back off. And for the record, she didn't ask for the money, it was my idea."

"Fair enough. I'm sure you have your reasons; if, you promise to stay far- far away from her I don't give a fuck. Now. Uber. I'm not going to waste my fucking time, I'm going to trust you realize how fucking stupid, and careless it was. Finally, the conference, I'll sign off under two conditions, Luke goes, and you stay at my penthouse."

Panic seizes me, pictures of Luke and I on the desk, the floor, the bed of his boss's vacation home in New York floods my mind. "No," I say, supporting my weight on his chest with my elbows. "No more preferential treatment. I don't want to be isolated, I want to be a team player. I'm staying at the hotel with the rest of the staff. And let's be clear, I wasn't asking your approval, you're my fiancé not my master- "

"Freudian slip…"

"No I meant it, with all its conations. And let me reiterate, I wasn't asking your approval, I was extending you a courtesy."

He throws his arms up. "Yes Ma'am."

"Don't play me, you're not capitulating. Luke was always going, he's my shadow and I see the wheels turning. You're plotting some backroom deal where I get a whole floor instead of a room."

He smooths the drying hair from my face. "Thanks for the suggestion. It's so much cheaper than buying the hotel." He bolts from the bed.

"Christian Grey!"

Standing upright, he rubs his chin with his fingers. "Baby, have a little faith."

I tug the sheet to my chest. "I have faith in you, I just don't trust you." He chuckles. "Where are, you going. I already feel lonely."

"Shave. This is starting to itch." He scrubs his face. "Then shower. I'm getting hungry, and you should be too. Considering your rogue behavior today, I'm sure you forgot to eat."

"I ate. Luke brought a salad to my desk."

"Remind me to give the man a raise."

"About that, have you considered terminating Luke's contract early." I try to remain nonchalant.

Christian shakes his head. "That's out of the blue. Let's table the discussion for later. I have a sinking feeling I will need to be stuffed, and sloppy drunk before broaching the topic."

The bathroom door closes, and soon as the water starts trickling, I scramble out of bed. When my feet hit the floor, I dress in his shirt, and race to the kitchen for my iPhone. "Looking for this?"

I clutch a handful of shirt. "Miss Jones," I say conscious of my state of undress.

"You're a popular young lady, it's been pinging, and ringing nonstop."

"Sorry." I grab the cell from her hand. "It smells good in here," I say, my shaky voice attempting to deflect from the obvious.

"Chicken potpie, Mr. Grey's request, and I thought I'd toss a salad. Ready to eat? Make-up sex can be depleting." She winks. I gasp, and the blood rushing to my face I escape down the hall.

"There you are," Christian says, when I reenter the room. "I was looking for you. The water is running. Shower with me?" I glance at my hand, then peek at him. "You're blushing."

"I ran into Miss Jones."

He waggles his brows. "Taylor didn't see you, did he?"

I swat his arm. "Christian."

"I'm not apologizing. I don't want other men ogling what's mine, including my staff. Especially, my staff." The phone slips from my hand. "Gail spooked you that much," he says, retrieving it.

"Uh-huh." I nod.

"I have just the cure." Setting the phone on the bed, he starts unbuttoning his shirt. "Mia had it custom made for me. The label says so." The endearing boyish smile, is manna from heaven.

"Really."

"Yes. Why I'm being so careful, otherwise, I'd rip it off you." Sliding the sleeves down my arms he reads the label. "CTG Original." Then he displays it to me for confirmation.

"How cute."

"It was thoughtful, you're cute." Pitching the shirt to the floor, he crisscrosses our arms leading me into the steamy bathroom guiding me into the shower. He pulls me under the downpour, and cupping my face in his hands, he sticks his tongue in my mouth kissing me with ardor filling me with this emptiness.

I grab his forearms, pulling out of the kiss. "Baby, what's wrong-"

"Why so needy you ask? You've brought rapturous relief, to a soul that had been tormented with thoughts of losing you." He lowers his forehead to mine. "Don't leave me again. For a day. For an hour. For a second. Ever. I wouldn't survive it."

"I won't. I couldn't either."

"Promise."

"I promise."

He shoves me against the tiled wall, kissing me deeply and passionately. "We fucked, now I want to make love to you." The water rolling down our bodies, he cautiously adjusts me so I kneel on the slippery surface with him. I spurt the steaming, but not scolding water from my mouth curious to his next move. "Thinking on the fly." He winks, answering my internal musing. And then in a first for Christian, and I he sprawls me out on the floor of the expansive shower enclosure.

The hard-slick plain is a strange surface against my back. The coolness of the tile juxtaposed against the softness of the warm water is a potent combination adding to my confusion. And at the moment I questioned the method to his madness, he covers my body. The universe aligns, and the water beating down on us, we make love on the shower floor. The unorthodox position, in the cliché location is quickly becoming my favorite replacing whatever our last position was.

Dressed, we finally make it to dinner. Miss Jones is gone, the lights are dimmed, and the table is adorned with candles and set for two. "How romantic. Your idea?" Christian says.

"No. Yours."

"No. The chicken potpie yes. "He pulls my chair out. "Guess Gail is sending us a message."

I shudder. "She made a reference about make- up sex."

"What did she say?"

"You think, I stuck around for details. I was too embarrassed."

"Baby, you need to be more comfortable with your body, and sex," he says sauntering to his chair.

I unfurl my napkin. "I am," I say laying it across my lap. "Didn't I just let you take me on top the counter in the bathroom."

He sits. "And that's the surface you remembered."

"I was testing you, the shower was nice."

"Nice, doesn't suffice- "

"Hey, you just rhymed. You're a poet and didn't know it."

He unleashes a full body laugh, the kind that fills a room, and nourishes the soul. "Why don't I get to see more of this side of you. Playful Anastasia. I think you save it for Luke. I'm envious of the good-natured relationship you two have forged."

"Chris- "

"Anastasia, you can relax. I'm not bothered by it, or feeling ginned up. It feels good, to have the pings of jealousy, and not be riled by it. I feel normal. Isn't that a goal- make me human?" He unfolds the napkin on his lap. "I'm famish let's eat," he says, passing the casserole dish to me.

Despite wanting to reassure him, I move on, because it's what he wants. "Thank you." I take two large scoops, and hand it back to him.

"Hearty appetite. I like. So, what did Dr. Green say?" he asks, as he loads his plate with potpie.

"Save room for salad," I admonish.

"Why I love chicken potpie. Shoot me." Begrudgingly, he takes the salad bowl from my hand. "So."

"Not much. We decided on the shot. Since I'd begun my pills, Dr. Green suggested I complete the cycle, and begin the shots at the beginning of the new month."

He fills his wine glass. "What about the chances for an unexpected pregnancy."

"You could wear a condom, as a second line of defense if you're so concerned." I spear a chunk of chicken with my fork sticking it between my teeth.

"No need to be cheeky, it was a legitimate question, not a judgment statement. Still let's switch topic, I don't want to bring any discourse into our wonderful evening."

I squeeze his outstretched hand. "I don't want to fight either. I want calm. Smooth sailing for us the rest of the way-"

"I wish I could guarantee calm, but when Mia and Mom get wind of the date, they will be on us like gangbusters."

"They can go crazy, we'll be Zen. I'm giving them full reign. I have just two requests. Cowen Collie, wedding planner, and Preston Bales, the florist."

He swallows a bite. "And who are these people?"

"Party organizers to the stars. They were on Oprah, I liked their work. Made a promise to myself, if I could afford it I would have them plan my wedding. That is if they were still alive when if I ever got married. Can't forget that caveat."

"Well, you're getting married. You can afford it. I'll have Andria verify the rest."

"Christian, Andria is a professional, she has better things to do then troll the internet for wedding planners."

"She's a professional that works for me. What's important to me, is important to her. You're important to me, I'm not going to let her stand in my way of giving you what your heart desires."

"People comment on how lucky I am, when they have no clue how true the words are. They see the pretty face, overwhelming wealth, when I get to experience the true generosity of your spirit."

He reclines in his seat. "You really are pretty."

"And you're deflecting?"

"A little, but it doesn't change what a magnificent creature I think you are."

"You're embarrassing me."

"Prepare to be embarrassed Miss Steele, when we're married, I'm going to make sure I embarrass you every day."

I tuck my hair behind my ear. "I'm going to use your tactic and change the subject."

"I have something- "

I interrupt him. "I'm changing the subject not you."

"Sorry." He gestures to me. "Go ahead."

"Did Elena pick this place for you?"

He crosses his arms in front of his chest. "What happened to no drama?"

"I promise Elena Lincoln is a drama free topic, I'm curious about something she said to me."

"Elena is prone to hyperbole, if not outright lying when it comes to me. I asked her opinion about the building, that's all."

"The furniture, the bed, the linens."

He laughs. "I see where this is going. I'll cut her some slack on this one point. I used her contractor to build my playroom. Anything else?"

"No."

"Good. Back to Dr. Green, what did she have to say about your diagnosed lethargy?

I take a long drag of water. "As I suspected it's not serious, but test did show my iron levels were low. So, she gave me a list of prescribed foods, along with a prescription for iron pills."

"The list I want you to get to Gail immediately, so she can shop from it, and I want my mother to review the prescription. It sounds serious to me; the number was low enough for her to prescribe you medication."

"Before I go to work, I will review the list with Gail, only because she does the shopping. As for your mother, there's no need to get her involved, one worry wart is enough."

"Had I been privy to this information, I wouldn't have prevailed on you in the manner I did. Perhaps, we should curtail our sexual activities until you're back to full health."

"Christian, this isn't olden times. I'll be fine. But I am cutting back on the running for a while- "

"She advised you not run-"

"I'm imposing the ban. I want to focus on less strenuous exercise like Pilates or Yoga."

"Why?"

"I want longer leaner muscles."

"You don't lift weights, so your muscles are perfect."

"Guess, I'm ready to try something different.

"I'll get with Claude for recommendations for personal Pilates, and Yoga instructors. You can have the lesson in the gym downstairs."

"Good idea, I hadn't considered it."

His head shrinks back. "That was easy, I was prepared to lay out my case for the at home sessions."

Laying the flatware on the plate, I scoot the chair back, and standing I sashay to him. Sitting on his lap, I drape my arm over his shoulder. "What would you say, if I postponed school."

"I'd say are you sure?"

"Yes I am. I appreciate your feedback, and I evaluated what was most important to me. Our little family. I want to focus on you and me. I can always go away to school, but I'll never get our first years of marriage back. I'm even considering one of the local universities."

"I don't want you making this sacrifice for me. I am thrilled with the decision, but I don't want to stomp on your dreams. Think about it. Don't give up on Harvard just yet." He kisses me on the chest. "Just so happen, I have a surprise for you too.

"You do." He digs inside his pants pocket, producing a replica of my engagement ring with a diamond ten carats smaller. "Christian it's beautiful."

He slides the large diamond ring off my finger, and slips the more understated one on." Baby, you are a lot of things, flashy isn't one of them. So, I wanted you to have a ring in keeping with your personality. The ring I presented to you at graduation was my indulgence. I wanted you to have something you can touch, and see to know the abundance of love I have stored in my heart for you."

Whimpering, I flex my finger. "I think I want to wear them both."

He smiles. "We should stick with the fashion mantra less is more." Swiveling the ring on my finger, he examines the diamond. "The rings were crafted at the same time. My intentions were to give it to you Saturday, but we know how that ended. Anyway, we'll store the larger diamond in the vault here, save it for you to wear to special events, and social engagement. That is if you don't mind mine. I want the universe to see you belong to me."

"Vault. You have a vault on the premise. In the apartment."

"If you're taken aback by a safe, I can't wait to see your reaction when you sign the paperwork giving you half of my net worth."

* * *

**Tuesday**

The SUV rolls up in front of SIP, Luke cuts the engine, and cocks his arm on the back of the seat. "What's with the silent treatment?"

"You're too involved in my life. The lines are blurred, we need more delineation," I say, without hesitation.

"You're mad about what…yesterday?"

"Yesterday, the day before, and every day before that. You're constantly reminding me, when I don't want to be constantly reminded. I want to forget. You want to rehash. I want to move forward, and can't with you around. I need my life to be drama free- no stress."

"What are you hinting at?"

"I asked Christian about terminating your contract."

"What? I can't interfere in your life, yet it is okay for you to meddle in mine. You want him to fire me?"

"It's not like you need the money, or health insurance."

"It's not the point. It's not your decision. And you made it without consulting me. Damn Ana. What did he say? Every word, I need to be prepared for when I talk to T."

"He didn't say anything. He tabled it, and never brought it back up."

"Let's get out of here, I want to get this fucking day over with." He flips forward.

"You're mad."

"I'm pissed." Storming out of the SUV, Luke slams his door yanking mine back. "How the fuck did we go from you coming clean to me laying under the bus."

I duck under his arm. "If you'd let me explain." Snatching the computer bag from my hands, he closes the door loudly.

"Your explanations are hollow, and usually full of holes. I should consider this a gift, and take it. Let you do the patchwork, fend for yourself. Get off the fucking merry-go around that is you, Christian Grey, and whatever fucking drama you concoct for the day."

"Tell me how you really feel."

"As if you would listen." Gripping the steel handle, he steps aside, and I saunter through the glass door. When Luke and I enter the main lobby, Hannah is at her station, but minus her giddy smile.

"Hannah. What's wrong?"

"Liz." She sighs. "Her mother's health is declining, and she's taken a leave of absence to care for her."

"How horrible." I peek at Luke his icy stare has warmed. "I'll call her to offer her my support."

"Have they named her replacement?" Luke says, leaping into security mode.

"A matter a face, they have. Some guy from the New York. He's in her office. I'll introduce you two."

I glance from Heather to Luke, back to Heather. "That was quick," I say.

She shrugs. "I just found out, so I have nothing more on the decision," Hannah says.

"Have you spoken to Liz," my voice cracks.

"No."

"Is her replacement, aware of my role?" Luke ask.

"Sorry Luke. I hate to hit the same refrain, but I don't have details. I haven't shared the information, but I'm not privy to what Human Resources has shared with him."

"Here." Luke hands me the case. "You go first. I don't want to be a distraction. You can introduce me to him later, or you can wait for my replacement."

"Replacement," Hannah shrieks.

I thread my arm, through hers. "Long story." I nod my head at the archway. "Come on."

"Too much togetherness," Hannah says, marching me to Elizabeth's office to meet my interim-boss.

"Something like that."

"Well, if you do replace him, please make sure his replacement is good-looking."

"I'll pass that along to my fiancé. Not?"

Giggling like schoolgirls, we pause at the door. "We need to pray for Liz's mom. We need Liz back ASAP. He isn't warm, and fuzzy," whispering she points at the door. "Forget open door policy, we're lucking if he opens the door at all. He's not the easiest man to talk to. I'm going to have to sharpen my skills of persuasion, if I'm going to get on his good side."

"Geez, all that from one short meeting."

"Laugh at me if you will, but you'll see for yourself."

"Wait, does he have a hump on his back, a bushy narrow, or one eye in the center of his head."

"Ha. Ha. Ha." She rolls her eyes. "He's handsome. In a creepy kind of way."

I nudge her shoulder. "Get this over with, knock."

Shifting my weight from foot to foot, I stand next to Hannah as she raps on the door. A familiar voice I can't identify yells come in. The door flies back, and I freeze when I lock eyes with the man keeping Elizabeth's desk chair warm. "Ah. Ana Steele. Elizabeth's new Intern. Glad you finally made it into work."

"Ana. Say something, you're scaring me," Hannah says.

"Why don't you sit down." I flinch when he touches my arm. Recollections of the man getting from the desk to me so quickly, is sketchy.

"Ana sit," Hannah says leading to the chair at the door, he'd just offered. "I'll get you some water. And Luke."

My interim boss crouches in front of me. "What a small world. How does the saying go, '_be careful how you treat people you may see them on your way down or is on their way up…" _A satisfied smirk snakes across his lips, as he rises.

Luke skids into the office. "Ana, are you alright?" He pats me down like he's been transported to the battle field, and a fellow soldier yelled incoming, and I'd taken on some of the shrapnel."

"Well. Well. **Well.** A twofer."

Luke's head zooms up. "Jack Hyde!" He stands upright.

"One in the same." Mockingly, he extends a hand. "Meet your girlfriend's new boss." Luke stares him down. "Too soon. Wound too raw. I understand. A few months ago, you were parading her in front of family and fiends like your new prized pony."

"Sorry, am I interrupting something?" Hannah says, "I have Ana's water."

"Thank you. Hannah, sorry to put you through the trouble but I don't need it."

"Sure? Your color is back, but your lips are kinda dry." Whispering, she pats her mouth.

"I'll take it Hannah, suddenly, I feel parched," Jack says. Crossing the threshold she searches my face apologizing for her perceived disloyalty.

Jack, snatches the cup from Hannah's hand. "Close the door on your way out," he barks.

"Leave it open Hannah," Luke counters, and her steps falter.

"You can close it," I say to Hannah, rescuing her from the untenable position.

"Thank you," she mouths as she hurriedly tiptoes out of the office closing the door behind her.

"This is kismet. One day I'm sleeping on my sister's couch, the next day I'm accepting a job in Seattle where it just so happens the two people, who had the biggest hand in my destruction are winning in life. Well. Your luck is about to change."

"What do you want Jack?" I croak.

"I haven't worked that out yet, but we're going to have a ball of fun while I do."

Luke stalks up to him. "I don't know what rock you slithered from under, but I'm going to take pleasure putting it in back on top of you."

"You're taking your frustration out on the wrong person my friend. What happened? Want to talk about it. Not enough money. Not handsome enough. Lacking in power. Not enough of everything, is that why she traded you in for the Billionaire. We warned you. Everyone saw it. She isn't anything more than a Gold Digger."

Luke lunges, I rise out of my seat, calling his name, but I refrain from jump in the middle, afraid of a repeat of the last time. "My mistake was not putting you in jail, but you badger her and I won't make the same mistake twice." he says, releasing Jack's collar.

Jack smirks. "You'd better pipe down partner. Look around this isn't mommy, and daddy's kitchen, and you don't have your high-fluted buddies to help you out. I'm Philly born, and raised, I eat pretty boys like for a snack."

"Luke let's go. Forget about him. This isn't about me, or you. He's jealous of what you have, and what you represent. He's holding a grudge against society. Because it's everyone's fault, but his that he's not successful."

"Oh yeah, I forgot you're some kind of Brainiac. Is that your book smarts, or world view?"

"You don't know me. I'm not the caricature you've created in your warped mind."

"Let's set the record straight. It was his sister's grudge. It was her idea. It is why his family didn't pursue charges. They were protecting her, not you."

"So, what. Stupidly I was protecting you. I thought you deserved a chance."

"Color me lucky. Destroying my lively hood was a second chance. I want to hear your ideas on the helping the homeless-" The office phones beeps, interrupting him. Holding our gaze, he reaches back pressing the intercom.

"HR in on the line." Hannah's disembodied voice fills the room.

"Let's get out of here." Luke drapes my arm over his shoulder. "I'll help you."

"Piece of advice, this is a professional work environment, if you don't control your temper for the safety of the staff I'll have to revoke your credentials," Jack says, holding the hand set in his hand.

"Fuck you," Luke says.

"I respectfully decline, I prefer something softer, and suppler if you know what I mean." The smarmy suggestive expression he's wearing makes my stomach flip-flop.

I lean in to Luke. "Take me to the hospital."


	54. Chapter 54

**Chapter 54**\- Love and Marriage.

**Disclaimer:** FSOG belongs to EL James

**A/N: **Thank you and please enjoy

* * *

Balancing the laptop on my knees, I reread Christian's emails over and over, the corners of my mouth swooning upward from the perpetual downward positon they'd assumed since the distressing reunion with Jack Hyde. The underlying tone of each message is playful, and sweet -not his normal banter, but a style I'm praying he'd adopt.

**_From: Christian Grey_**

**_To: Anastasia Steele_**

**_Subject: Let me be the first..._**

_Baby,_

_I wanted to be the first to wish you a happy second day at work. Considered sending flowers, but I didn't want to impede on your independence._

_Love CTG_

**_To: Anastasia Steele_**

**_From: Christian Grey_**

**Subject: They're Alive- We can get married.**

Baby,

Andria located your Colin Cowie, and he's very much alive; as well as, the famed Florist. Due to the time constraint, I'm flying Cowie here, for dinner with us tomorrow. You can meet with him before your trip to New York, share your ideas, before my mother, and sister inundate him with theirs.

Did I mention, mom and Mia are coming for desert. I thought I'd give you the limelight, before you're forced to share it.

Future Mrs. Grey looking forward to seeing you for lunch, we'll discuss the details then. Gail shared your prescribed list with me, so lunch will be filled with something from each food group.

Love CTG

My phone beeps, and I slam the top of the laptop shut as if I'd been caught reading Dr. Green's confidential emails.

"Ana," Kate shouts, before hello hits the tip of my tongue.

"Kate-"

"Kate my ass. You can save it Steele. It's not safe to light a match, and leave it."

"Where do I start?"

"Apologizing would be a good place. You and your body guard, seem to be ignorant to the fine art of civility."

"Don't bring Luke into this, he was on the side of right. I was wrong. I should've called you-."

"You think. I'm peeved, because all the hell you had to do was simply pick up the damn phone. I was the fool doing the reaching out, I did everything but send up flares."

"Can we tamper the cursing? Life happened. I wasn't the boy crying wolf. I had to take stock-"

"Take stock. I thought the train had long left that station. I'm confused."

"I am too."

"Steele, you're driving me insane- you're going backwards. What are you talking about? Are we telling the man or not?"

"We're not telling any man anything, I'm protecting my family Kate. Christian is my shot at an authentic family, not the excuse for one I was born into. Ray has done a yeoman's job, cobbling the ruins together, but he can't offer me what Christian can. A chance at a life I never thought possible. He loves me, Kate. I have no business, being the object of his affection. Who am I?"

"You are Anastasia Rose fucking Steele that's who you are, and he's the lucky bastard."

I simper, when I want to full on cry. "Speaking like a true friend."

"Always."

"I've lived my life, as honest as possible, and one mistake. Will I have to sacrifice it all for one mistake?"

"Sweetie, at this juncture, the mistake isn't your main hurdle. I am guilty of some of life's biggest indiscretions, I'm the last person to judge anyone, but I wouldn't be a friend if I didn't point out the obvious. It's hardly ever the lie that gets people into trouble-"

"It's the cover up."

"Christian may not know, but you and Luke discuss the darn thing ad nauseam. Someone is bound to slip up. But yes, you my friend deserve your happily ever after. Have you stopped to consider Luke might be your happily ever after-"

"No."

"No, you haven't stopped-"

"No. He. Is. Not. The. One."

"How can you be so sure... As the saying goes, there are two great loves."

"And it finishes with the one you marry, and the one you don't." I wipe my nose with the back of my hand.

"Oh. I guess Luke's the odd the man out."

"When did you become his champion?"

"How could I not. We've all been there. Watching idly as someone else lives the life we wanted."

"Luke and I had our chance-"

"Yeah, but the odds were stacked against you."

"Kate. I'm not entirely sure where you're going, but your loyalties are misplaced. You're long for something. Someone. Elliot Grey perhaps..." Bending my knuckle I dab at the corners of my eyes.

"I'm not falling for the oh okey-doke, we're talking about you."

"Have you spoken to him since you arrived?"

"Ana, we're not talking about me. We're not talking about Elliot. We're talking about you and Luke, and what a sad puppy dog he is. I just want to caution against taking advantage of his fondness for you. He'd go through the fire for you, it doesn't mean you should ask."

"I could say the same about you. I've taken your support for granted. Any ideas on how to make amends."

"Me. I'm your girl. Luke. Have compassion for his feelings, don't make a decision for him, that is best for you."

My shoulders shudder. "Did you talk to him this morning?"

"No. Why?"

"Your words are eerily prophetic." I sigh. "I'm glad the two of you have forged a friendship. He isolates himself."

"The lonely-hearts club, what a membership," she says, deadpan. "Want the truth- ours is a relationship of convenience. He's my source for the Ana and Luke dramedy, guest starring Christian Grey. I'm not your roommate anymore, if he didn't fill me in I'd be left out of the loop."

"Ha. Ha. You've made your point. I'm sorry-"

"While you're apologizing, please explain to me how my mother knew you were getting married at the end of the month, and I didn't."

I bite my bottom lip. "Dinner-"

"You think dinner is the cure all for everything-"

"I'll update you on the minutiae of my life. It'll be at Escala, I'll have Miss Jones, prepare your favorite, and she's an excellent cook."

"I'm free tonight," she blurts out, and I giggle. "Told you I was easy."

"Unfortunately, tonight isn't good. I have to prep for a conference." I groan.

"Conference. Look at you Miss Executive, with your conference. Where?"

"Please. I'm an intern. I don't even get business cards." She laughs. "The conference is in New York, we're flying out tomorrow night. I'll be back by the weekend, so Sunday maybe."

"The Megalomaniac going?"

"No, Christian isn't going."

She snorts. "How did you manage that; the man barely lets you out of his sight to piss."

"It was easier than you think."

"Ana one, Mr. Control Freak zero"

"If you plan to have an endearing relationship, with my soon to be husband, I'd suggest you refrain from the name calling."

"Since we're on the topic of marriage, let's get down to brass tacks of the wedding. One way you can make nice with me is no taffeta, and matching dyed shoes."

"Kate. Your mother is the designer, I think you're safe."

"Don't let the pristine, refined appearance fool you, the woman has a wicked sense of humor."

The door knob jiggles. "I have to go." I shove the phone in my coat pocket, just as Dr. Green enters the office, her head buried in my chart.

Her eyes dart up. "Well, Ana. What brings you back to see me so soon."

I heave my shoulders to my ears. "Hypochondriac?"

A rare smile scrolls across her lips. "Seeing, I don't know you well enough to make such a diagnosis." She flips the folder closed, and concentrates on me. "Why don't you tell me your symptoms."

Luke's waiting on the other side of the door, when I step through the doorway. "Well?" He plucks the computer bag from my hand.

"I'll live."

"How long is the question."

"Long enough to be a thorn in your side."

He presses the button for the elevator. "I'm serious."

"Stress."

"That's the diagnosis? Did you explain to her the root of your anxieties?"

"She's not my shrink, Luke."

"You can re-adjust the attitude, it wasn't my idea to bring here." Out of an abundance of caution, she needed to know the facts. You suffered two fainting spells in a row!"

"For the umpteenth time, today, I'm sorry."

"Out of an abundance of caution, she needed to know the facts. You suffered two fainting spells in a row!"

I shake my head. "It's only morning, and already this day has gone to hell." The elevator pings, the doors open, the row of people file out, and we file in. "I gave her the gist of the problem," I say, as the doors come together.

"Well, I'm hoping we'll be rid of your problem soon. I have some pertinent information on Hyde." Luke presses garage.

My mood perks up. "You do. That was fast?"

"I have connections too you know."

"I'd never doubted you."

"Interesting tidbit." He folds his arms. "Elizabeth Morgan is Hyde's connection to SIP."

"Elizabeth?"

"They attended the same college, and apparently, they were very close friends; so much so, Hyde donated stem cells to her mother when she was very ill."

The doors part, mimicking my gaping mouth. "Jack Hyde benevolent. He saved a life."

Touching me on my back, Luke escorts me out the small box. "Seems so."

"It explains why she reached out to him, but why have him replace her at SIP?"

"We'll have to await on Elizabeth to connect those dots, I can guarantee you, Hyde won't, and too bad my contacts didn't have that level of details."

I stroke the tip of my ponytail. "The plot thickens. Anything else."

"The guys are surprised, he's in Seattle. Word on the street, he was down on his luck. No job, no prospects for jobs-"

"Thanks to us. It's no wonder he's holding a grudge. Your dad had him black balled, because of you and me."

"Don't go soft on Jack Hyde. Spreading blame, ignores what he did. I'm convinced more than ever Hyde is evil, whatever he did for Elizabeth's mother hasn't dispelled it." Pausing at the SUV I holdup while Luke opens my door. I slide inside, he closes the door, and Luke jogs around the front to the driver's side. "I have more research to do. My immediate concern is finding out his angle, my gut tells me luck is presenting him with the opportunity to do damage-"

"Like what?"

"Black mail comes to mind, or something more sinister."

"You really believe he's holding a grudge?"

"Ana don't play the naïve card with me. Hell yeah, he's holding a grudge. Until now he didn't have any recourse. Think about it, this golden career opportunity, has provided him with more access to you than he thought possible. What better way to get back at me than through you?"

"So, his problem is with you, and not me then."

"Let's put it this way." He holds my attention in the rearview mirror. "He'd like to stab me with a dagger, and fuck you with his dick."

I cup my hand over my forehead, and stare out the window. The concrete pillars supporting the garage structure, are more soothing than the dark thoughts flooding my mind. Dropping my hand, I wrap my arms around my torso, comforting my shaking body. One more person, who can put us together as a couple, and he has an axe to grind.

"Does your parents know about Christian and me?"

Luke chuckles. "Where is that coming from?"

"Answer the question."

"It made worldwide news. What do you think?"

"I can only imagine their opinion of me."

"Dad didn't mention anything, he was focused on Hyde, but I'll share my mom's thoughts once I talk to her."

"I don't want to know, I was just curious." My head lolls against the window. "I'm sure your sisters are having a field day."

"It's not personal, my sisters hated everyone I dated. For the longest time, they weren't too keen on Alison." He glances in the mirror. "Dad wishes he'd pressed charges. He's worried about us."

I sit up straight. "He shouldn't blame himself. We all made tactical errors. Did you ask him about Benjie?"

"Ana, Benji is the best kept canine in the US. We're an asterisk in his doggy brain. He's doing just fine."

I giggle. "I'm not sure how I feel about the revelation." I gander a glimpse of his profile in the rearview mirror. He's wearing his shy smile.

"It's good to hear you laugh, even if it's nerves," Luke says, maneuvering the SUV around a tight curve. "Sure, you don't want to go home."

"Positive. Jack Hyde's the kind of bully you can't run away from, you have to face him head on. I can handle him."

SIP's a short distance from the hospital so we roll up to the building, in no time. My plan is sketchy, at best, and non-existent at its core. As I attempt to flesh it out, Luke cuts the engine, and throws his arm across the headrest. "We're good," he says, and I nod my agreement.

The queasiness in my stomach is gone, and I've fitted my spine with steel rod so as Luke escorts me into the empty foyer, I step with purpose. I loiter, while he goes to move the SUV to the rear of the building. Scouring the area for Hannah, I send up a lighted- hearted prayer, that she doesn't appear. I'm not yet prepared for her myriad of questions. Accepting my luck, I hoist the computer bag on my shoulder, and saunter to my desk. There's an awkward ambience in the room, when I enter, and my self-conscious nature at its peak I falter. I sense everyone gawking at me though their heads are bowed.

Shrinking into the atmosphere, I plod to my cubicle, and then I spot Italian loafers, attached to long legs encased in expensive blue trousers peeking from behind the tan divider. "Christian," I say, peering around the corner. He's sitting comfortably in a desk chair, unbecoming someone of his stature- he needs a stately throne.

Making a meal out of uncrossing his arms, and legs, he burns a hole into me, with his scorching gaze. It's toying with my scattered brain. I can't discern, if his visit is disciplinary or debauchery at its best. "An-sta-sia." His low deep growl, is doing precious little to decipher the riddle.

"What are you doing here... I thought we were meeting for lunch," I whisper.

"When my fiancé doesn't return my emails, calls, or texts, a visit is required. I wouldn't want another bedroom confession," he whispers.

"How considerate."

"Very."

"You could've called Luke."

"Why. So, he could cover for you."

"Where's Mr. Taylor, I didn't see the SUV."

"Such trivial questions." Standing he commands the air our mere mortals dare to breathe in his presence. Like a moth to a flame, I float closer to him, and undercover he snags my forearm. "Since you demand a separation of your work life, from your personal life, I'd suggest you find a private space for us or this is going to get very uncomfortable for you very fast." Squeezing my arm, he pulls me in tighter so his lips are touching the shell of my ears. "Because you're going to tell me where the fuck you were."

He lets go, and I glance around the office. My co-workers are pretending to be immersed in phantom reports not on their desks, and phone conversations with themselves. "Follow me. There's a conference room down the hall." My inner being rejoices, the conference rooms are in close proximity to the work area, and before Jack's office. "Here." White smoke pumping from his ears, Christian yanks the door open. He doesn't hesitate, he stalks inside, forcing me to slip through it, as it closes. "Go. Ahead let me have it."

Inclining against the edge of the conference table, he snatches my wrist drawing me to his chest. "Truth is, I wanted to see you. I'm mad about you."

I fling my arms around his neck. "I'm mad about you too."

He snakes his arms between mine, smoothing loose strands of hair from my face. "However, I am livid." His knuckles glide along my jawline. "But mostly, I was terrified."

"Why?"

"Why? You have to ask. You weren't here." Undoing my arms, one at a time he moves them to the side enveloping my tiny fists inside his massive fists. "You weren't at your desk, doodling Anastasia Grey on sticky notes. Or doing any number of the silly things you're prone to do online. Googling Tupac, reading up on Bach, researching BDSM..." He twinkles, at my grimace. "The privacy setting is your friend."

"You have access to my personal computer."

He chuckles. "The old fashion way, I peered over your shoulders."

I stare into his concerned eyes. "As you can see, I'm fine. What did Hannah tell you?"

"Hannah. The receptionist."

"Yes."

"The young woman could barely speak."

I tip my head to the side. "Slayed another woman huh Grey."

He frees my hands. "Just a face, remember."

"A beautiful face."

His hands glide up and down my shoulders. "My celebrity was too much for her. I'm sure she's a lovely young woman, but she stuttered badly. I simply told her I'd wait for you in your office-"

I make a spewing sound. "Office. Surely you gest. I'm not even an executive assistance, I'm a lowly intern."

His face contorts into a cat that ate the canary expression, but before I can question him the door opens. "Ana." I jump forward, pressing my back against Christian's front. "There was no sign on the door, I thought it was empty. I didn't mean to barge in," Jack says.

He's cordial, it throws me. "I'd like for you to meet my fiancé." I peel my body from Christian's. Part of me is pleading for him to dismiss my cry for work-life separation, and hook his arm around my waist, tethering me to his body for life.

"No introductions needed." Jack sticks out his hand, and I step to the side. "I'm very familiar with the one and only Christian Grey. Pleasure to meet you."

Christian stares at Jack's proffered hand, and leaves him hanging. "I wish I could say the same, but I have no idea who you are."

His hand recoils, the bitter rejection registering in the fine lines outlining his mouth. "Ana didn't tell you."

"No. Anastasia did not."

"You're looking at her new boss, for the foreseeable future anyway. Jack Hyde. Elizabeth Morgan is taking time off to care for her ailing mother."

"Interesting," Christian says.

"Don't be angry at Ana, all this transpired this morning."

"Jack." Christian cocks his head to the side. "I can call you Jack?"

"Can I call you Christian?" Jack replies.

"No," Christian says bluntly.

"I see."

"I don't think you do. Jack. Anastasia has a very strong grasp of the English language and can speak for herself. As for me, I don't need a translator, and we don't need an intermediary."

I touch Christian's arm. "Jack is right, I only found out when I came into work."

"I take it you're aware of the arraignment we have for Anastasia's security."

"Trust me. I'm very familiar with her private security man."

"Then I think we understand each other." Christian offers him his hand, and Jack eagerly takes it.

"Yes, Mr. Grey," Jack says.

They end the handshake, and Christian peers at me. "Walk me out?"

"Yes."

"Ana, did you tell your fiancé about our first meeting." My face falls.

"First. Meeting."

"Yes, I was teasing Ana bout it earlier. Before her little mishap."

"Mishap."

"Um. I felt lightheaded. That's where we were. Luke took me to the emergency room."

"Lightheaded. Emergency room. And no one thought to call me."

"It was nothing," I say, and with my eyes, I plead for him to drop it.

Christian weaves his arm around my waist. "Continue," he says to Jack. "I since an eagerness from you to enlighten me about your meeting with my fiancé."

I squeeze his hand. "Jack can't help teasing me. I bumped into him at an airport."

"Yes. An airport." Jack confirms.

"An airport. He remembered the woman he bumped into at an airport. Either he has a great memory, or you made quite the impression."

"Both. It was quite entertaining. She spilled her coffee on me, or was it tea?"

"Tea," I say, "I don't drink coffee."

"It's like it was yesterday. I can feel the hot liquid, seeping through the fabric scolding my skin, leaving an inedible stain on my shirt," Jack says.

"Apparently, it wasn't the only inedible mark left?"

"Mmm," Jack sighs. "It was my favorite shirt."

"By all means let me buy you a new one." Christian reaches into his pockets.,

"Not necessary, I'm no longer into shirts." He strokes his forehead. "The memory is fresh, because Ana's clumsiness changed the trajectory of my life. I was on my way to the interview of a lifetime, and I didn't get the job.

"I get it, you're looking for restitution. Something more substantial. How much will it take to make you whole?"

"No. No. No. Your money is no good here." Jack smiles at me. The kind of smile that isn't a smile at all, but a warning. "I recognized Ana's face, thought it was kismet. I had to remind her. We had big laughs at her two left feet." Jack chuckles.

"Hilarious," Christian snarls. "Ready, baby."

I nod my head. "Jack, I have a meeting with Royce, so I'll have the spreadsheet ready for you before I go to lunch."

"Lunch. You're just back from the emergency room, and you're planning a lunch."

"Do we have a problem here. She's an intern, not your indentured servant. Legally, she is required to take lunch," Christian snaps.

Jack throws his hands up in the air. "I didn't mean anything by it. You don't get my sense of humor. Ana and I-"

"I know. Bonded over tea." His hand splayed on my lower back, Christian urges me out of the conference room. "There's no fucking way you're going to New York with that bastard," Christian murmurs, as the door closes.

* * *

"Miss Steele, congratulations."

"Thank you, Andria," I say, continuing to Christian's office.

The door swings open, and he bounces from behind his desk. "Baby, long time no see," he says, strolling to me.

I wrap him up, burying my face in his jacket. "Ah, you feel so good. And smell divine." I snuggle up to him, and he pushes me back. "Relax. A report kicked my butte. It had nothing to do with Jack."

"Postponing lunch worked out, the early morning conference call I'd rescheduled ran late."

He loosens his grip on my shoulders, and I remove my arms from his waist. "What are your instruction to Luke? He follows me everywhere including the bathroom. I mean he didn't go inside the bathroom but you get my drift."

"Not to let you out of his sight."

"And what else?"

He steps back. "It wasn't instructions, it was a promise. I'll kick his ass if he knowingly lets you mislead me."

"Christian, don't be angry at Luke, it was my idea."

"Don't worry, the bulk of my ire is saved for you. I should give your suggestion more serious consideration."

"Please, I was mad at him, I was being petty."

"Let me guess. He wanted to do the job I pay him for, not the job description you writing on the fly."

"Something like that."

He grabs my purse, removes my jacket and walking them to the chair in front of his desk. "Come, let's eat."

We stop at the large conference table warping SIP's in every category, dimension, wood, and prominence. "Christian. Did you invite a village to lunch," I say ogling the rows of steel domes lining the surface.

"Sue me. I wanted to take advantage of your ferocious appetite."

"I thought you didn't like wasting food. I'm not sure how ferocious my appetite will be after the 3-egg omelet I inhaled for breakfast, and the mid-day snack Miss Jones stuffed inside my computer bag. Know anything about that Grey." Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I rock my hips to the side.

"Maybe." He brushes side of my face with his fingers. "What we don't eat, food runners are picking up."

"Good." I drop my arms. "I need to wash my hands."

"There's a full bathroom through the door." He points.

When I return, Christian has uncovered each plate. "Notice a theme? Grace said-"

"Wait a minute you told your mother."

"Anastasia, my mother is a Physician, why I wouldn't I tell her?"

"I asked you not too."

He cups my face in his hands. "You're too precious to me to ignore your health concerns, no matter how minuscule. I want the top medical minds on your case."

I grasp his wrists. "Christian. My iron levels are low. It's not a case. The only thing Dr. Green has on me is a chart. Maybe a folder." Lowering his hands to his side, I give him a reassuring smile. "I'm fine."

"Yesterday the Dr. Green diagnosed you with an iron deficiency, today you had a fainting spell. Two. If it's not a case it should be."

"Let me clarify some things. I didn't faint, I felt light-headed. There's a difference." I lift his hand. "But I'm too hungry right now to debate the dissimilarities. I want to eat."

"Music to my ears." He drags the head chair back from the table, sits and hauls me down with him.

"Christian, you can't eat with me on your lap."

"Yes, I can. You weigh nothing."

"Well, I can't." Rising, I slip into the chair next to him pulling the Chicken Caesar from the line up to me.

"I was going to have the Caesar."

"Really. All this food, and you wanted what I'm having."

"I'll have a sandwich." Standing, he leans in plucking a plate with a chicken salad sandwich, loaded with orange slices, and potato chips on the side. "Eat all the citrus in your salad, mother says vitamin C is paramount to the absorption of iron."

"It won't be difficult, there are more orange slices in the salad than lettuce."

"You better get used to it. They will be in everything. Mom has informed Gail to use iron cookware from now on."

"Luckily, I like every citrus fruit known to man," I say, nibbling on the grapefruit slice in my mouth.

"Tell me, what happened with Hyde after I left."

I dab the corners of my mouth, with the cloth napkin. "It was quiet. The pissing match you two put on was enough excitement for the day."

"It wasn't a pissing match, it was a good old fashion dual." He winks. "And I stand by my decision. You're not going to New York with Jack Hyde." Staring at me, he bites into his sandwich.

I skewer a chunk of chicken, a healthy piece of romaine lettuce, and a slice of tangerine with the tines of my fork. "You're right I'm not going to New York with Jack, I'm going to New York with SIP's staff, and your appointed body guard." Returning his glare, I the stuff the pile of food into my mouth.

"He wants in your pants. I cannot send you on a trip of with a man I do not trust."

"Gawd Christian, we discussed this last night-"

"We did. I agreed. But the circumstances were different. Your boss was a woman, not a man who wants to fuck you."

"I'm flattered, but I'm not Aphrodite, every man doesn't want to have sex with me. But, so what if he does. I don't want too. Luke will be there. Unless he's a magician, Hyde won't get close enough to touch me less more undress me." I say, waving the fork in the air accentuating my points.

"If you think Luke inspires confidence in me, you're wrong. After today's tomfoolery, he should've been fired."

"I've explained to you the impetus for my impetuous statement, now you're being silly, and petty."

"Anastasia, I wouldn't be this adamant, if Jack's background wasn't so troubling."

Using the fork, I spread the salad out on the China. "I knew you'd do a background check on him so, what in his background bothers you?" I keep my tone neutral, as I fish for clues to what he knows.

"It's what the report didn't reveal, I find bothersome. The bastard is squeaky clean. Aside from some college high jinx nothing notable. He's lived a mundane life. Until about a year ago, at least."

The fork nearly slips from my fingers, but I salvage the blunder by spearing a convenient grapefruit slice. "What happened a year ago?"

"That's it. We don't know. It's like he was in the witness protection program, and the FBI redacted a year in his life. Taylor is digging into it. See why I don't want you traveling with him. Not until, we find out more."

I gulp, swallowing the bite struggling to bypass the lump in my throat, and I intentionally let the fork clatter against the white china. "No, Christian. I will not let you cage me in. There are bad things out there. Bad people. But there's also a lot of good in the world, and if I don't experience it all, I'm not living." At the same time the words tumble out of my mouth, I want to scream put me in a cage. Lock me away in Escala, with you, so the world can't defame our love.

Christian lays his napkin to the side, and covers my hand. "It's not your weakness, I'm afraid of- it's my own. I can't be responsible for what I'll do to anyone who harms you. I didn't protect you back then, but I damn sure will this time." I slap my free hand on top of his. "Work for me. We'll change the internship, to your liking. You can revamp it into a work study program, you'd be proud of. The project would be invaluable work experience," he says.

"Baby."

"Yes."

"I'm not going to work for you."

He slides his hands from the pile. "Then promise you'll be mindful of Jack Hyde. I'm considering adding Henderson to your detail."

"I bet you're having him tailed too?"

"Yes."

"I had a hunch." I toss my napkin on the table.

"You can't be angry."

"I'm not. I'm tired of this same fight. I tell you what I want, and you do what you want."

"Then, let's change the subject." He reclines back in his seat. "Colin Cowie is in route-"

"You do realize I can't make dinner on Wednesday."

Extending his hand, Christian picks up his glass of water. "We'll move dinner to tonight. Instead of going to the hotel, I'll have the driver bring Cowie straight to Escala."

"You're mom, and Mia."

"We'll work something out." He sets the glass on the table. "You really are pretty."

"Christian," I say, my head dribbling downward.

"Don't hide. The big world you talked about. Let it see you. Let it know you exist. Let the inhabitant of it see what I see."

My head pops up. "What do you see?"

"The love of my life."

* * *

"Ana."

I peek up from my coding book, and Hannah is hovering over the top ledge of my cubicle. "Thanks for the warning."

"How was I supposed to warn you, I wasn't here when you got back."

"Ever heard of cell phones. You have my number."

She sashays from the behind the temporary wall, scooting me to the side. A butte cheek hanging over the edge of my own chair, I try to get comfortable. "Girl, let's talk about your man. He beat distinguish with a baseball bat, and kicked fine's ass. He's on another level, of handsome." Her shoulders shimmies. "How do you stand him?"

I giggle. "He's a cutie. Very cute. But, as handsome as he is, his heart is even bigger."

"Ana." Hannah, jumps to her feet at the sound of Jack's voice. "Hannah, can you get me the report from last quarter?"

"Yes. It will take me some time to compile it. When do you need it?"

"First thing in the morning will be good," Jack says, and demurely Hannah walks away, without saying goodbye. "Ana, can I see you in my office?"

"Sure," I say hesitantly.

"We can wait for your shadow. I know he wants to be posted outside my door."

"We're good Jack." I stand. "Hannah," I call out loudly, and she zips around. "Please let Luke know I'm in Jack's office. He's parking the car in the back." I'm not certain why I went into an explanation, but with all eyes on me for about the third time today, I thought they deserved some tidbit even if it's useless.

"How was lunch?" Jack says, holding the door open for me.

"It was great Jack," I say, as I enter his office.

"And you're Fiancé."

"Even better."

"I bet." He rounds the desk to his chair. "I reviewed your report. I'll confess, I'm confused by this whole E-book project. I'm not sure why Elizabeth is taking SIP down this road."

"She views it as the future of publishing. None of the big, publishing houses are doing it. SIP has an opportunity to be on the cutting edge."

"Well, I'm going to need your guidance," he says, slinking into his seat.

"Sure. It's definitely in my wheelhouse, it's one of the reasons Elizabeth brought me on board."

"It'll be better if you come here. I want you to walk me through it column by column, line by line."

Reluctantly, I stand behind him, peeking over his shoulder. "The report is pretty straight forward. Right now, the main column you should focus on is resources. As the project moves forward, the higher ups will need to determine if we're going to staff the it with in- house engineers, or utilize the contract model. Either way, we'll need to hire up."

He rotates his head to the side. "What do you think?"

"Each has its pros and cons. It depends if this is going to be a product, or a division of SIP. On the report, I give a high-level view of both options.

"I'm with Elizabeth. The internet is the future, but looking at these numbers, I need to get a better grasp of the project. Roach will be making the final call, it's above my paygrade." I stifle a giggle.

"You can talk to Royce, he can give you more insight. He worked on the concept with Elizabeth."

"To be frank with you, I'm handing it off to Royce. I don't want to be involved in the day to day, but I want you to be my eyes, and ears. Keep me updated. I want to keep Roach informed. "

"Sounds like a plan."

He stands, and I switch to the side of the desk. "In the meantime, I'd like for you to get your hands wet doing some editing. What do you think?"

"I'd love to. Literature is my first love."

He crooks his crooked index finger, and curiosity drawing me in I lower my head. "Closer," he says, I'm nearly sprawled across the edge of the desk, I'm leaning so far over it. "He doesn't know about you and Luke, does he?" Slowly, I unwind my body standing upright. "Aha, this keeps getting better and better."

"Is that all? I should get back to my desk. I want to complete a few things before my day ends."

"You're so naïve, I actually feel sorry for you. Christian Grey, can sniff out a good deal on another continent. You think he can't smell the heat between you two."

"Jack, I'd been thinking, maybe you should replace me on the trip with Sue. She'd be so appreciative of the opportunity."

"Don't be stupid, Ana. You want to go to this conference. It would be an experience for you. It would also look great on your resume. You accomplished something free of the nepotism of your fiancé. Don't be so quick to let someone stomp all over you, even if its me."

"Advice from the snake. I'm not sure how I should take it."

"Take it in the vein it's given. You're more like me than anyone of them. I'm familiar with your history. Everyone boasted about it. How you overcame tremendous odds. We're not that different. We want the same things, I'm simply willing to fight dirty for them. Are you?"

The door flies open. "I thought we agreed to keep your office door open, when you're meeting with Ana."

"I was just leaving," I say to Luke

"Why don't you go home. You've had a rough day. Get some rest, you have a long week ahead of you. Take this with you, circle the line items I should pay attention to." Slipping the report in my hand, he whispers. "Think about what I said."

* * *

After dinner, we retire to the living room. Christian sits on the edge of the sofa, drags me onto his lap, and clamps his arm down on my waist locking me in place. Mr. Cowie takes the side chair next to us. "I have some definite ideas," he says, pulling out his note pad, and pen. "And since money is no object Ana you're a lucky girl-"

"I'm the lucky one, you can write that down," Christian says.

"I agree whole heartedly, I was simply stating what a fortunate young lady she is. She can truly have the wedding of her dreams."

"I don't think we want the wedding of my dreams. My dream wedding was filled with poofy ball gowns, dancing tea pots, and glass slippers."

"Your big girl dreams then."

"Long as it's not gaudy."

"Have you seen my work?" My head bobbles up and down. "I don't do gaudy."

"It's why I chose you."

"Remember money, doesn't breed bad taste, it's how people with bad taste spend it. Do you have bad taste?"

"I don't think so."

"I don't, and from the looks of your fiancé, and his well-appointed abode, I'd say he doesn't either. Therefore, you can be assured there won't be anything gaudy about your wedding." Leaning across the armrest, he fixes his hand at his mouth. "Don't be shy. Spend his money like you own it."

Christian chuckles. "I like the way you think Cowie," he says, raising his wine glass to the man.

"I thought you would," Mr. Cowie says, his accents making everything sound proper and refined. "Now let's get to work. Your friend's mother is designing the dresses?"

"She's designing my dress, and Vera Wang is helping her with the bridesmaid's' dresses."

"Do you have any sketches you can show me?"

"I don't. I'm planning to meet with her, when I'm in New York. But I told her to keep the dress simple."

"Long as we're not confusing simple with plain, I'm good," Mr. Cowie says.

"I'm no fashionista, so I'm not confident I'd know the difference. I'll have to defer to Mrs. Kavanagh.

"If you'd prefer I could talk to her directly. I want to assure we're on the same page. At my weddings, the dress is the focal point."

Christian clears his throat. "I'm no wedding buff, but I thought the bride was the center of the universe on her wedding day."

"Ah, Mr. Grey don't you worry, when I'm done, people won't be able to take their eyes off your lovely bride."

"I have no doubt. People can't take their eyes off her now. Especially men." I elbow him hard. "Colin, I could fly you to New York," Christian says, recovering nicely from the blow to the gut. Granted, I barely penetrated his muscles, but I got him good. "You could meet the designer in person. Attend her meeting with Anastasia."

"Perfect."

"I'll have my assistant make the arrangements."

"Ana, I understand you'd like for the wedding color to be all white, I'd like to dissuade you from the theme."

"I wouldn't call it a theme, it's what I like."

"All white weddings can be magical, but in my humble opinion they are a ploy. A cheap trick used to imply enchantment and magic where there is none. You my dear are living the fairytale; you're Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, Belle, rolled into one glorious package, tailor-made to the capture the imagination, you don't need the theatrics."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Stick with the white, but I'd like to add a hint of color, and touch of sparkle."

"You're scaring me."

"Don't be. It won't be a literal interpretation. It will be sophisticated. High-glamor with a youthful edge. We'll play up your age. The drama. Give them what they want. The fairytale." Mr. Cowie fans his hand in the air as if he's sprinkling whimsical dust casting a spell on us.

"Okay, Mr. Cowie, I'll trust you."

"Thank you my dear, but if I can't call you Miss Steele, you can't call me Mr. Cowie. We're going to working very closely together, so we should get comfortable with each other."

"Colin, it is." I grip Christian's hand. "Colin, can you tell me what colors you have in mind."

"I have a few I'm toying with in my head, but I'd like to understand the dress before I share them. But I promise they won't be anything bold or garish."

"Great, I prefer muted colors, and silver is my favorite metal."

He slides his glasses down the bridge of his nose, and peers at me over the rim. "By silver you mean Palladium, Rhodium, Platinum, and my favorite- my old-friend Titanium."

I giggle. "Since I'm only familiar with two of those metals, I'm going to say silver like good' ol sterling."

"Youth." He takes a sip of his wine. "It is wasted on the young, but stick with me kiddo you'll learn about the finer things in life, like Titanium isn't just for credit cards."

"I'm going to pay dearly for these life lessons." Christian moans

"And you're love doing it," Colin retorts.

I glance at Colin, then Christian, and back at Colin. "You two are incorrigible."

"On that note I should go. I have everything I need. I'll make an appointment with your soon to be mother in law to see the venue. And I'll put a question mark by the horse and carriage."

"Huh." I inhale loudly.

"Exhale, I was only kidding."

"Thank God."

"There is one more thing. Music," Colin says.

"Anastasia and I have it covered. Music has been a very important part of our courtship from the beginning. It plays a special role in our lives,"

"I saw the clip, of your proposal. The song got you right here." He points to his heart. "I take it meant something," Colin says.

"It did. It does. We want the same level of intimacy, for our wedding. Share the music that tells our story." Reclining back on him, I rest my head on his shoulder.

"I enjoy my job immensely when the bride and groom are so very much in love, and there's no drama lurking in the background threatening to uproot everything," Colin says, and I pop up plastering a broad smile on face, that I'm sure he'll see right through.

"I'll drink to that," Christian says, reaching around me grabbing his wine glass


	55. Chapter 55

**Chapter 55:** New York New York

**Disclaimer: FSOG **belongs to EL James

**A/N: **Thank you and Enjoy

* * *

"Mm." Purring I shimmy in my seat, molding the curvature of my bum and spine into the contours. In the end, Christian begged off of his threat to punish me by adding Ryan to my detail. Instead, he's rewarded me- he covertly arranged for me to fly first class to New York. Because of the strain, Jack's presence has infused into the work excursion, I'm feeling a lot less guilty about isolating myself from my co-workers. I didn't even react to Hannah's good-natured ribbing- lifting her nose in the air calling me hoity-toity.

Luke's head taps the side of mine startling me. "I'm seriously beginning to question my sexual prowess. Maybe you were faking it," he says in a hushed tone, to protect our privacy.

Cutting my eyes at him, I peer through the slits. "Sometimes." I mirror his quiet tonality.

He snickers. "Oh, you got jokes."

"Who said I was joking."

Hustling in his seat he hikes the divider between us removing the separation. "Continue. Just saying, you'll incite a riot. Any more erotic noises like that and the male passengers are gonna make dollar bills rain up in here." A gratifying grin contorting his face, Luke jostles my shoulder with his shoulder.

Squeezing my eyes tighter, I meld into the seat smoothing my palms along the plane of the armrests. "Not going to let you squish my joy balloon." Murmuring I roll my head from side to side. "Nope. Not going to do it."

"Ma'am." My lids flutter open, and I'm staring directly into eyes too bright for a flight this late in the afternoon. "Would you like something to drink? I wanted to catch you before you dozed off, I wouldn't want to disturb you from your sleep." Her gracious apology, makes me instantly regret my menacing glare, and unpleasant thoughts.

I sit forward. "Ginger ale." Listing in front of Luke, the flight attendant thrusts the armrest down, unfurling the tray and flattening it out in front of me. She lines the surface with napkins, and two small bags of miniature pretzels.

"And for you sir." Standing upright, she goes to do the same to Luke's, but he'd beat her to it.

"Wine."

"Red or White."

"White."

"Thank you."

The young woman retreats to the galley, and Luke uses the time to review my itinerary with me. "Looking forward to the convention?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"No."

"I'm about to burst from excitement. It's the largest publishing conference in the world. One of the people who attended last year said to expect wall to wall people." I give him an impish grin. "I can't believe I'm going to be counted in the number."

Luke snorts. "Your enthusiasm is my nightmare. A room full of people, and the target to a bodyguard is a recipe for disaster."

"Lighten up. It's not like I'm the president."

"No. You're just Christian Grey's prized possession."

The flight attendant reemerges at the end of our row, interrupting the can of whip ass I'm about to unleash on him. "Your drinks," she says, setting our beverages on our trays starting with me. "I hate to rush you, but we'll be taxing shortly. So, I'll have to request you finish your drinks quickly." We nod our heads in agreement, and the flight attendant sashays to the front retrieving beverages for the other passengers.

"I wish people would stop referring to me as a possession I'm a living breathing human being."

"Chill. I meant it as a compliment."

"Compliment. How is objectifying a woman? Belittling her accomplishments, and referring to her as chattel a compliment?"

Very uncivilized like, Luke chugs his wine. "This is going to be a long flight," he says, his hand sprouting up.

"Yes, sir."

"Rum and coke. More rum than coke."

The flight attendant props her arm on the back of his head rest and tilts her head down, so her lips are aligned with his ear. "Soon as we reach cruising altitude and the captain has removed the seat belt sign. Right now, I need to prepare the cabin for take-off," I hear her say, and one by one she plucks our items from the trays disposing of them properly.

I rest my hand on top of Luke's. "I'm done. I promise," I say, issuing him a sincere apology.

"Miss Steele." I yank my hand back. "We have a special meal for you."

"Me."

The young woman peeks at her notepad. "Yes," she says, and the light bulb goes off in my head.

"You do. I'd forgotten. Thank you for reminding me." Stuffing the note in her apron, the flight attendant continues to work the aisle.

"Grey."

"Who else?"

Luke plugs his headphone into his iPhone. "Hey, meant to ask about yesterday. You didn't raise a stink about being alone in an office with Jack."

"He was professional. All business. There was no need."

"I'll admit, I wasn't convinced you could, but you seem to be handling him like a champ."

"I can't take the credit, he's behaving himself."

"Don't get too comfortable, it'll breed complacency, and I don't trust Hyde. We're only 48 hours into whatever he has planned for us."

* * *

Our guffawing comes to an unceremonious crescendo when we pull up in front of my suite. "We're here."

I snicker. "So, we are."

Luke peaks inside the bag he's carrying for me, full of paraphernalia. "Think you got enough swag?" He says, closing the bag. "The conference everything you'd imagined."

My cheeks aching from my previous fit of laughter, spread wide. "I'm loving it."

"What in particular. Name one thing."

"Gosh. You were there. From the authors to the energy surrounding books. The buzz about the future of publishing especially electronic publishing..." I throw my hands in the air. "What can I say. It isn't one thing. It's everything." I tilt my head to the side. "What."

"You. Your childlike enthusiasm is irresistible. Just now, when you were laughing hysterically, your youthful spirit came alive. For a moment, you weren't the young woman timid of the limelight and carrying the weight of his world on her shoulders. You were a normal 18-year-old, being 18. And when you're not thinking about it, and let it happen naturally, your smile is a true reflection of that easiness about you...It's a kilowatt bulb capable of not only lighting up this building but all of New York."

"I don't know if I have a response for that."

"None required. Some things are simply meant to sit with you."

Seemingly I spew out of nowhere, but it's pinned up laughter I'd stifled. "I'm sorry. Her expression, though." Bending over I cup the area above my knee caps. "It's etched on my mind's eyeballs."

"Ssh, you're going to get us booted out of here."

"And you had to tell her you were just pulling her dress out of your drawers..." Squealing, I can hardly finish the sentence.

Luke chortles. "I have to admit the shit was funny."

"Oh God. Oh God..." Standing upright, I dab under my eyes, and Luke's pensive gaze comes into focus. Angling his head, he casually sweeps a loose curl behind my ear his thumb and forefinger caressing my jawline, and I close my eyes leaning into it.

I open my eyes, and he's studying me. "You wanna come in...we can continue our conversation." Stuttering, I stumble over my words.

Dropping the swag bag to the dated carpet, Luke slams his hands above my head to the door. "I respectfully decline."

I gulp "Oh."

"Are you okay, your face is a little flushed."

"I'm fine. " My intent was to counter his cocky redundant question with something sassy, but it wasn't to be. My head dribbles downward, unwilling, and unable to confront his hotness.

"Look at me," he murmurs.

I roll my head up. "Did you get in touch with you friends?" I say, eager to pierce the tension.

"I did. Meeting them downstairs in the hotel bar."

"Good."

"They asked about you. They don't get this." he pauses. "Arrangement."

"Ahem. Pot meet kettles. Apparently, neither do we." I stare into his discerning eyes. "But somehow it's working. You'd need a secret decoder ring to decipher anymore."

Luke tips my chin up to his lips. "I'm going to bottle your excitement, and give it to you as a wedding present."

"What." Playfully, I pummel his chest. Chuckling he stumbles back. "Cheapskate."

"What happened to it's the thought that counts?"

"You'd better keep thinking, and counting."

"What's a man to get the girl who's getting everything."

"The one thing she's not getting."

He gets a wry twinkle in his eyes. "That's my cue. I'd better complete the security sweep, so you can get inside." He tugs the keycard from the inside breast pocket of his jacket inserting it into the slot. My arm fly up, my fingertips extending to his temple.

Luke flinches barring me from stroking his face. "ANN-AH."

Biting my bottom lip, demurely I point to his brow. "There's a piece of lint on your forehead." Rolling his eyes, Luke swats it off and tapping the door he pushes it open. Brushing my arm, he storms passes me flipping on the light and securing my room commences. After a few minutes, I poke my head inside. "Is it safe?"

Marching out of the bathroom, Luke joins me at the perimeter of the suite. He helps me enter, and he exits. "Now, it is."

I smirk, and he retrieving the bag from the floor. "8," I say taking the loot from his hand.

"8:00 it is."

"Good night."

"Good night. Lock the door. I'm not leaving until I hear it click."

"You promise."

He touches his fingers to his chest then to the sky. "Scout's honor."

The door connects to the frame, I pitch forward pressing the back of my head into the wood. On the other side, I imagine him pacing in place daring me to make the next move. I exhale as my fingers skim the hard surface engaging the lock, and I count to five. Downing the light switch to the off position, I twist my body and unlocking the door I gingerly peel it back. Touching the side of my face to the panel, in the stillness of the room, I peer at him through the crack as he strolls to his room. Essentially, Luke's off duty, so he's fallen into his natural laid-back strut with a whole lot of street swagger to it. I want my eyes to steal away from him, but they won't. They stay trained on him until he disappears into his unit. Satisfied, and disgusted by my unapologetic ogling, I press on the door. It encounters a stoppage. I zoom down. An ordinary brown loafer is jammed in the opening. My eyes travel up the length of the pant leg, and the owner's face materializes.

"Look-a-here, look-a here." The light in the hall is casting an ominous glow over his visage, and when he removes his shades his true nature is revealed validating the prickling of the hairs on the back of my neck. His visit isn't a professional courtesy he's paying to me.

"Jack," I say, struggling to sustain a measured timbre. "You need something?"

"Depends on how you're defining need."

"You tell me." My strategy. Keep my tone natural maintaining a polite dialogue between us, buying time for Luke to swoop in and save the day.

"Aren't you going to invite me in? I came all the way from the bottom floor to the presidential level."

A nervous giggle erupts. "Silly, there is no presidential floor." Smiling sweetly, I loosen my grip on the knob. Extricate my hand, I shove hard on the door. But seemingly Jack reads my mind. Blocking my efforts, he bogarts his way inside. Scooting backward, I almost trip over the loot bag. "Luke's next door," I offer.

Wickedness, corrupting his perpetual sneer, Jack slams the door, plunging us into semi-darkness. "He's down the hall actually. I witnessed the long goodbye or was it the longing goodbye?"

"If you leave now, I won't tell anyone you forced your way into my hotel room."

He lets loose a maniacal cackle. "Tsk. Tsk. Force. Such an ugly word. A simple word, with the potential for irrevocable damage. A lot of good men, a few of them my friends, are doing 25 to life because of its misuse, and overuse." A tell-tale click chills my blood.

My heart is racing so fast, it threatens to outrun my body. "If you don't get out, I'll scream."

Jack propels himself from the door. "Scream. I'll scream louder." He advances, and I backpedal at a faster rate.

"What do you want?" My legs buckle, when the back of my knees bumps into the edge of the bed. Touching my fingertips to the mattress, I save myself from collapsing on to it.

"No one's here to render you any assistance. This time it's just you. Me." His bloodshot eyes dart from me to the largest surface in the room. "And a bed." He leans into me, and automatically I shrink back. "How convenient," Jack whispers. "Oh, the irony."

He drifts closer to me, and I try to mold my body to the bedframe, purchasing more real estate between us. The smell of liquor and cigarette on his stale breath is making my stomach churn. "Pleease."

"Please. That's the ticket. I like my women submissive." There's a hidden message behind the conceited smile, he's using to toy with me. "You're not the only one with secrets. Your fiancé has a few of his own."

My ear perks up. "What."

"Whoa. She has some fight in her after all." He jabs me inside the dip at the base of my throat with his index finger, hitting my windpipe causing me to hem. "You heard me." Dropping his hand, Jack paddles backward sizing me up. "This is how things are going to work from now on. As tempting as fucking you is, I have a bigger affinity towards cash. And with the cash, I'm going to get from you, I'll be able to buy all the ass I want." He goads me with his condescending demeanor. "Come on, show me more appreciation. I'm doing you a favor. Keeping your boy toy your secret. For a small fee that is- 5 million dollars."

Coughing, I nearly choke on the bile bubbling up, the amount is so ridiculous. "5 million, as in marbles."

"The price just went up." He stuffs his shades into his pants pocket, drawing my eyes to the growing tent inside his trousers. "Laugh, and it will continue to rise." His eyes shoot to his crotch and back up at me.

I do my darnedest to conceal, he's intimidating me. "I don't have that kind of money."

"Do I look stupid? You don't but your fiancé does, and you'll have access to every red cent of it once you're Mrs. Christian Grey. So, you see it's in my best interest that the sham of a wedding goes through as planned."

"Sham. My wedding isn't a sham-"

"Control the outrage, it's wasted on me. I don't need convincing, I'm not going to tell him you're fucking the help. You're worth far more to me betroth."

"I'm not sleeping with Luke."

"I said the help, I didn't name anyone."

"Don't be coy Jack, it doesn't suit you."

"Fair enough. It is Mr. Lucas Sawyer. And do you think he'll concern himself with such a minor detail? All he'll see is the betrayal. The veil will have been lifted. He'll see you for who you are. A mirror image of your predecessors. But I suspect you know this already, it is why you've made the calculated decision. Based on the way, he worships you, I know how he views you. You're an angelic figure to him. You can do no wrong. Lucky for you, Jackie is here to protect the vision preventing you from joining the legion of wanna-bees on his throwaway heap."

"For 5 million dollars," I snip.

"A small price to pay to live in the lap of luxury. Don't you think?"

"This isn't about money. I don't want Christian's money."

"I do."

"And how do you suppose I'm to get your 5 million dollars without raising a red flag. Christian will notice."

Jack thrusts the flaps of my trench coat to the side. "I don't know. Flash some tale. Let him spank it. Whip it. Whatever kinky shit he likes to do to you. Rich motherfuckers do some weird shit, yet they look down their noses at folks like me. The bastard couldn't shake my hand. No, he had the audacity to make me gravel when he's the one in the business of beating the shit out of brown hair little girls like you." Everything inside me that is able, ties into knots. "He can call me Jack my ass." Jack's voice falters, and I fix my eyes on him. "If I were you, I'd remove my hand," he says, baring his teeth.

Our eyes glued to each other, slowly, I slide my hand from my coat pocket where my fingertips were grazing my iPhone. "I'm not sure what you're insinuating."

"I'm not in the habit of insinuating. I deal in facts, and from the blank expression on your face, I'd say my facts are right on."

"Everyone has an opinion, so you're entitled to yours."

"And you're stuck. Challenging me would be tantamount to a confession. Inquiring as to how I might've come into possession of the incriminating information would be the same as corroboration. Trying to debunk it is a non-starter, because that is plain old verification. What a pickle you're finding yourself in. A tangled web we weave when we plot to deceive. Keeping his dark secret is proving to be more important to you than keeping your tawdry one." He throws his head back, indulging in a hearty laugh at Christian and I expenses. "I don't know what I've done to earn God's favor, but his grace is shining on me. It is suddenly good to be Jack."

"You can't be serious. Blackmailing isn't God's handiwork."

"It is if the devil is your God." I don't know if it's the blasphemous statement, but horns sprout on top of his head, and in the moonlight his eyes blaze with hell fire. Realization dawns, I'm truly in the presence of evil. "Go ahead judge me. I'd rather be a sinner, than a false prophet. Unlike your band of self-righteous men, I know who I am, and I'll fight to the end defending my spot on this planet." He huffs, the stench of alcohol on his breath stings my eyes. "Your fiancé, his demeanor, the disrespectful manner he greeted me. It was him flexing his authority, attempting to put me in my place." Jack cackles like a cartoon villain. "Stupid fool. Little does he know, I am matter. I occupy space. My place is everywhere."

"Jack you're drunk."

"I had a few drinks," he says dismissively. "I needed to organize my thoughts. My head was swimming with the dossier, I'd uncovered on one Mr. Christian Trevelyan Grey. They never lied. A woman scorn…" His voice trails as he scrubs his hand over his face. "Take it off."

"Excuse me."

"Your coat. Take it off. It's hot in here. Or is it me?"

"It's the booze. I'm freez-"

"Take it off!" Droplets of his vile spit hit my skin searing each spot. "It'll hurt if I take it off for you. I play rough. But seeing who you're marrying, it'll be foreplay to you." My chin quivering, eyes watering, and body trembling I shrug my shoulders, letting the trench slither down my arms puddling on the floor at my feet. "Very nice, for a mousy bitch. Even the homely outfit can't hide what's beneath. You're wearing too much clothing."

"That is it. I'm not removing another stitch of my clothes. If you want it, you'll have to take it. I'm certainly not going to help you rape me." I say, my voice shaking.

"There you go with the inflammatory rhetoric. I'm not here to attack you. There's no thrill in fucking Anastasia Steele. Anastasia Grey is where the pleasure lies. " He cocks his head to one side, then to the other. "That being said, you are a sexy piece of ass. I understand why Country Club Boy can't bow out gracefully." Reaching behind me Jack turns on the bedside lamp. "The city is pumping, but it's not giving off the light I need. I want to see you." He ogles me like I'm his prized bull he's putting up for sale on the auction block, and he needs to determine what fair price I'll fetch. Although I'm fully clothed his gross mannerism, and roguish gawking is leaving me feeling exposed, vulnerable, and more naked than if I were naked. He's tapping into my all my Laden fears. "Save the tears. How many times do I have to tell you -I'm not here to fuck you. Six million dollars is a far more enticing bedfellow." I bite my bottom lip, trying to stem the tears burning at the back of my eyes. "I told you I fight dirty, at the time I had no idea the ammunition would be so deadly. I'm anxious to see how you retaliate. Your response will let me know which pretty boy rocks your world. Or maybe the money will be the determining factor for you." He weighs his hands like a scale "The Billionaire, or the Millionaire."

"There is no choice."

"Good, we have an understanding then. Perhaps a deal is a better term for what we've negotiated. Since you have a strong grasp of the English language, I want to get the vernacular straight." He mocks me using Christian's words. Unnerved by being locked in a hotel room with him alone, I'm pinned to the floor, every fiber of my being quivering, but my feet- they're heavy. They don't work when he storms out. Panting for my next breath, the door re-opens, and Jack jams his head through the opening. Dread compounds the trauma, I'm already enduring. "I forgot to mention. It's best we keep this new arrangement between us. I'm the only one who can get you to the chapel on time, with your innocence intact. And his too." Flashing a menacing smile, he pulls the door tight.

Plowing through my crippling inaction, I dash to the door. Shaking like a leaf, and grasping for air, I flip the lock and set the chain. Twisting forward, I brace my back against the door. As I start sinking to the floor, my phone rings. Swallowing the sob, I barrel toward the sound. Grabbing my coat from the floor, I yank the phone from the pocket. "Hello." I hiccup. I scrambled to answer it before it went to voice mail sending Christian into a full-blown panic.

"What the fuck?" He screams straight away. Hanging on to the tip of the mattress, I crumple to the floor. There are no thoughts of the blue light or excitable boyfriends I need to release the sob threatening to strangle me.

"Yes..." Touching the back of my head to the bed, I lower the phone, letting the wailing run its course.

"Anastasia!" Christian yells, but I'm too busy bawling to respond intelligibly. And just when I reclaim my vocal cords, the phone goes dead, and the next thing I know Luke is knocking the door off the hinges picking me up from the floor.

I drape my arms around his neck. "What are you doing here?" I simper.

He carefully deposits me, on top of the comforter. "What happened to you. You were fine when I left you. Then I get a 911 call from Grey."

I shoot up the headboard. "Oh, my God Christian. I need to talk to him."

"Here use my phone."

"Luke!"

"Christian it's me."

"Baby-."

"Christian I'm fine. Sending Luke was an overreaction- "

"You let me worry about my reactions."

"I'm just overwhelmed. I'm so sorry for worrying you."

"Put Luke back on the phone," he barks.

I hand the phone to Luke. He places it to his ear, and the immediately holds it as far away from it as possible. "Yes, sir," is all he says, and then he ends the call.

"I heard the racket. What did Christian have to say?"

"Where's the basket he sent to you." I point to the dresser. "Room service will be here shortly. In the meantime, he wants you to take a soaking bath in the salts in the basket, and dress in the pajamas included."

"What about the door?"

"I'm handling it," Luke says.

"Okay." I nod.

Luke tosses the bath salt he's appraising back into the basket. "Are you going to tell me what's going on? This isn't about you being overwhelmed. You're thrilled about this damn conference. This wreaks of Hyde."

I bolt from the bed. When I'm standing, I kick off my shoes, sidle up next to Luke at the dresser, without mouthing a word, I stick my arm out. Following my lead, he slides the wicker gift basket onto it. "Thank you," I say. Using my other hand to secure it, I scramble inside the bathroom leaving him dumbfounded. When I resurface, after my therapeutic soak, my food is waiting for me, and maintenance is repairing the door.

"Grey ordered you chicken noodle soup and hot tea. Do you want to eat at the table or in bed?"

I climb on the bed. "Here."

The maintenance man leaves, but Luke stays. "Are we going to pretend- "

"Let me have my phone," I say, sticking my palm out, and he places the phone in it. "My call is going to voicemail. Have you spoken to Christian?"

"Not since the ass chewing you witnessed."

The phone clatters on the table as I plunk it down. " You can go. I want to sleep."

"What about your food."

"I'm not hungry," I snap, "I want to be alone." I shove the tray away.

"Sorry. I've been given specific orders to watch you."

"I'm not comfortable being alone with you in a room."

Luke removes the tray, leaves it on the coffee table, and plops down in the armchair catty-corner to my bed. "Too damn bad." He outs the floor lamp, and in the dark the fear grips me.

"Yikes." A strong hand clamps down on my mouth suffocating my screams.

"Baby, it's me," Christian whispers in my ear, slowly peeling his hand back

"Christian." Flipping forward, I jump up flinging my arms around his neck. "You're here. I'm not dreaming."

"You're not dreaming, I'm here." I hug him tighter. "You were crying, I had to get to you."

"I'm sorry I upset you."

"You want to talk about it?"

I untangle my arms and push back in his embrace. "Where's Luke."

"Luke."

"He was here when I fell asleep."

"I sent him away. You're with me."

"Don't be mad at him."

"Anastasia, Luke Sawyer is my least concern, I can take care of you. And yes, I send my fiancé thousands of miles away, and she bawls into a phone. You'd better bet I'd want an answer, but for now, I only want to take care of you."

Christian stretches his legs out on the bed, and I cuddle in his arms. "I should've listened to you. It's too much, I don't belong here. People are older, smarter, wiser."

"Baby, I'm an idiot you were right not to listen to me. I let my insecurities, and fear get in the way of your happiness."

"Christian, you are my happiness."

He kisses the top of my head. "Anastasia, you don't have to placate me. I'm well aware of my shortcomings when it comes to you. I lose any sense of logical thinking, but I in no way meant to insult your intelligence." Gripping my shoulders, he lifts me, so we're face to face. "You maybe be younger, but you're more brilliant and prudent than anyone in attendance at this conference. Damn, I sound like a Tony Robbins infomercial."

"Stop, you'll make me laugh."

"Do it. I live to hear you giggle." He picks at the fabric on the arm of my pajamas. "You have no idea how difficult it was choosing these."

"I'm surprised you did."

"The theme of the basket was your favorite things, not mine."

"You're too good to me, and for me." I lay my head on his chest. "Thank you for the basket, it was very thoughtful." I roll my eyes upward. "Christian, what time is it?"

"2. 4. I don't know."

I prop my head up on the elbow I'm balancing on his chest. "You flew almost three thousand miles to check on me. It's why I couldn't reach you."

"What's the use of a private airplane, if you can't use it to see about your girl."

I flash him a broad smile. "I love you so much."

"A good thing, because in a few weeks, I'm going to have the papers to prove it." He sits forward, forcing me back.

"Where are, you going?"

"We're going to my apartment. This place is a shit hole. It's no wonder you're depressed."

"Christian it's a Marriott-" He hoists me up to his body, cutting me off.

"I don't give a damn if it's the Palace of Versailles, it's not where you should be staying. You should stay in our home away from home."

When I open my eyes, Christian is hovering over me. "Where am I." Sleepily I pan the room. It is vaguely familiar, and then I eye the expansive desk in the picture window. The memories crowd my foggy brain.

"My New York Apartment." He smooths the hair from my face.

Smacking my lips, I draw myself up. "Can I have something to drink? Water."

"Tea."

"Even better."

Christian clears the doorway, and I hug myself. Treks from fresh tears comingle with the old ones. The veracity is too heavy to contain inside. I'd made love to Luke in Christian's bedroom, on his desk, in his bed. He'd never forgive me "Are you okay?" Christian says traversing the room, carrying my tea with bag out.

"I was just wondering about the time?"

He gives me the dainty cup and sets the matching saucer on the bedside table. "Relax. Time is inconsequential. I've spoken with your asshole interim boss." Christian parks himself on the bed, and it shifts slightly. "I told him you weren't feeling well. Surprisingly he was very understanding."

"Jack."

"Yes, Jack. He was professional for a change. He was empathetic. Said for you to take all the time you needed. Hannah will fill you in on anything you'd missed from today's conference."

I bring the cup to my lips dipping my tongue in the liquid testing the heat. "This tastes good."

"I'll let Maria know. She picked it out specifically for you."

I settle against the headboard. "Last night is a blur. I think I wiped it out on purpose." Warming my palms with the steam heating the fragile cup, I narrow my eyes. "I'm so sorry for pulling you away from your responsibilities. I still can't believe you came all this way because you thought I was upset."

"I can't believe you can't believe. Do you not get it, I'd do anything, go anywhere for you? One day you'll believe me. I made a promise to you. I'd make up for my mistakes with action, and words. From the first sign of your distress, I ordered the jet fueled." A glistening pinpoint deep in a corner of the room taunts me until I must avert my gaze from his concerned face. "What's wrong? You don't like the décor. You can change it, this is your home too."

I place the teacup on the nightstand and grab his face in my hands. "It's perfect, just like you are. Now. What's your plan for me, Mr. Grey? I know you have a plan. You always have a plan."

His facial features softening, one at a time, he moves my hands to the bed cloaking them with his. "Eating, and resting."

"As boring as that is, it sounds heavenly."

Christian does a double-take. "You're agreeing with me."

"Yes. I want to be sharp for work on Monday."

"Yow will be. I've extended our stay. I thought we'd spend the weekend. Tomorrow we'll do the touristy thing. Sightsee. Explore Central Park. Today I want you to rest and relax-"

"Christian. My meeting."

"Calm down. I rescheduled it for tomorrow.'

Suddenly, I'm ecstatic. "In that case, I'd like to go to MOMA."

"MOMA it is."

"Is this how life is going to be- me asking, and you giving."

"More than that I'll lay the world at your feet."

I slide my hands back. "Does that include a baby?" Intently, I gauge his response.

"Ana." He runs his hand through his hair, in exasperation.

Sniffling, I lower my gaze to the luxury enveloping me. "I guess I have my answer."

"Can we not do this now?"

My head zooms up. "If not now when?"

"Anastasia, you're not in the frame of mind for this discussion, and I'm not equipped to have it. The only thing, I came prepared to do is take care of you."

"Alright." I acquiesce, because he's right, this isn't the time for this discussion.

Slumping, Christian positions his head on my lap. "I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you."

I rake my hand in his well-coifed messy hair. "Christian, I'm fine. I didn't mean to scare you," I say, my fingers lingering on his scalp. "Yelling at Luke was unfair." His head pops up, knocking my fingers out of the way. "I overheard. It wasn't his fault. He can't anticipate my every breakdown."

"I have cashed checks with his signature on them saying otherwise," he says flippantly. "I have an expectation, that he'd do his job, and he'd do it to the best of his ability. Well, his abilities are lacking. He has the weekend to contemplate his actions-he's put your life in danger over and over. I'm reaching the conclusion, no one will ever you love you as much as I do or protect you as if their lives depended on it like it does mine."

"You can't watch me 24/7. It's unrealistic."

"Watch me."

Sensing our loving discussion descending into madness, I search for a change of topic. "I'm hungry. "

The corners of his mouth extending to the corners of his eyes Christian rises. "Hungry. You have no idea how happy that makes me," he says when he's standing.

"I do." I toss the covers back. "The sooner I shower the sooner I can eat."

"Despite last night, you have color in your cheeks. How's the fatigue? The medication working?"

"It appears. My energy is returning. So, you can stop trying to stuff me like a piñata."

"Oops, I'd better tell Ms. Reyes to dump the buffet she's prepared." He winks, and then he cranes his neck giving me a peck on the lips. In return, I give a reassuring smile that lasts until he's out the door. Then I snatch my phone from the table and busily type a message to Luke.

**U won't believe where I found the other earring-Ana**

**Either u tel me the fuck going on or Hyde will- Luke **Studying the message, I ponder its implications and another text scrolls in.

**Feel better soon see ya Mon- Jack.**


	56. Chapter 56

Chapter 56: Auld Lange Syne "One Shot"

**Disclaimer:** FSOG belongs to EL James

Stark, and Cross characters belong to J Kenner, and Sylvia Day

**A/N: **This is a one shot. I wanted to do it for Thanksgiving. Tried Christmas, and just missed the New Year. I traveled for the holiday, and was busy enjoying my family. I got it written in time for to send New Year's Eve, but it wasn't edited. I just made back to SF, and today was the first day I had to edit it. The holiday has passed but it is written so I'm giving it to you.

So, you're not confused, this is a peek into the future, the next chapter will take us back to the present. Future chapters will lead up to this one until we caught up. And to answer a few of the ugly comments I have received. Usually I don't include this type of information in my author's note. I get more negative comments than positive so it would take up most of my chapters. But I was drawn to address some things based on comments from my last chapter.

I'm not confused, I'm not dragging things out for the sake of keeping a story going. I have this story scoped out, the triangle is central to my vision. And everything tidbit I've sprinkled in is meant to me and isn't a last minute thought. I may make some minor changes, but it is all planned

I know where I'm going, I may not get there on your timing, or as smoothly as you'd like. Let me remind you, I know my limits. I'm not a professional with a horde of editors reviewing my work so of course my writing will be disjointed. I have no glue what I'm doing, I simply trying to tell the story in my head that I wanted to read. If I was as good as some of you think I should be, I probably wouldn't be writing on this sight. That being said, I maybe a poor writer and storyteller, but I can read. I see my stats, and after a year I have less than 1000 reviews, and well under 400 faves and likes so I already know people think my story stinks, so I don't need you sending me nasty reviews telling the same thing over and over. I get it. But I'm not stopping until I'm done.

Thank you, please enjoy. Nor

* * *

To my delight, the family, and by family, I mean Christian, Elliot, and my dad demolished the miniature confections Gail helped me to make from scratch. The secret, and the shortcut, we baked them in mini muffin tins. From cinnamon rolls, lemon tarts, and pecan pies to French maroons and trifle. The plane to the fancy all in done in one simple bakeware. I came across the idea when searching for recipes for Christmas cookies. It's based on the sugar cookie recipe that won a million dollars a few years ago, and with Gail's help I pulled it off without destroying our newly renovated apartment.

Dinner was at the in-laws, and the festivities moved to Escala for desert. Since Christian and I have been married, we've entertained his family at our home a lot. We even hosted Christmas. It was a more daunting than planning my wedding since I was the one in charge and not Colin with his gaggle of assistants. The preparation was manic, hectic, and crazy, and I wouldn't change a thing. From the beginning to the end, it was the best Christmas I'd ever had in my life. I was surrounded by people I love in a home infused with all the trappings of the holiday money could buy. A tree in every room including the bedroom. The halls literally decked with holy. Mantels draped with icicles and a roaring fire in the fireplace. Norman Rockwell couldn't have painted a better scenery. We ate, we laughed, we opened gifts, and we watched the wedding video. Again.

Our wedding video is pretty much on repeat in our home. If Christian isn't watching it, his mother and sister are over here watching it. And each time you'd confuse it as the women's first because they cry like babies. Which I get, it is the tear jerker.

So, as my family stroll past me, I stand at the perimeter of the great room, oohing, and awing. My feet grace this threshold daily. Still, it takes my breath away. It is a great room in every definition of the word, and it boggles my mind that something so opulent belongs to me. Opulent in the sheer size of it. I worked closely with the lead designer ensuring our more grandeur penthouse wouldn't be cold, and sterile. I wanted to retain some warmth despite its size. I didn't want a showplace. I'd lived in a museum, and wasn't impressed. Everything in our new home down to the knickknacks is uber expensive; either shipped from around the globe or made by craftsmen here at home. Some of the manufacturers I can pronounce, some I can't, and to be honest it no longer matters to me. It is what it is. Christian has money, and with Gia's help, I used it to achieve the warmth of home, in a skyscraper nestled in the bosom of the clouds.

Gia Matteo was masterful, with Elliot's guidance, in using color, fabric, and wood tone to realize my vision. No detail was left to chance. Fung Shui experts were brought in. Color experts were brought in. If you were an expert, you were brought into the project.

Unbeknownst to me, Christian bought out the three other tenants on our floor. He had the bright idea to expand our penthouse into the unit next door, and utilize the remaining units for his staff. Gail and Taylor were the recipients of one, and the other he saved for the bachelors Luke, and Ryan to share. I was uneasy with the arrangement initially, but it has worked out to my advantage. The few days leading up to the wedding was suspect, so I had mega reservations. Luke was behaving bitterly, he was agitated and sore towards me. He wasn't handling the upcoming nuptials well. So much so, he made up some flimsy excuse as to why he couldn't work it. To my surprise, Taylor accepted it at face value. But alas, his resentfulness was short lived. By the time Christian and I had returned from our honeymoon he'd fallen in line. And unlike when Christian and I were dating he's adhered to boundaries, and been very respectful of our marriage. He's taken his professionalism to new heights. When we're alone, there are no coy glances, accidental touches, or improper conversations, we communicate concisely and to the point. Independently, we'd reached the hard conclusion that we'd underestimated the challenges associated with fostering a friendship under inauspicious circumstances. So, we've forged a more realistic camaraderie- a relationship based on professionalism, and common courtesy. And as a sober-minded, and grown up as it all sounds, achieving it seemed like an impossible feat when I'd uncovered the affair Luke and Kate were carrying on under my nose.

It started out like any other night to see an Opera, except I had to have the clutch I'd left at Kate's. Assuming Kate was at work, I elected to use the key she'd given me instead of bothering her at her job. Sure, she gave it to me to use in case of an emergency and not necessarily to come and go as I will. But for expediency sake, it is exactly what I chose to do. Christian debated the ethics with me, and I hastily pointed out the irony. His prior behavior nullified his argument. So, shrugging him off, I plunged the key into the keyhole, all the while giving him a quick tutorial on roommates. Once a roommate always a roommate. And just as I'd finished the sassy retort, my eyes were opened. We barged in on Kate and Luke in various stages of undress. While I was seething inside, Christian was near giddy.

_**The container Kate's holding slips from her hand tumbling onto the floor. "Ana!" Unrehearsed, and without trying we enact the stupid craze sweeping the nation-the mannequin challenge. Kate and Luke are frozen in place with stunned expressions glued on their sorry mugs while I 'm pinned to the floor huddled next to my fiancé in front of a cracked door like I just discovered my husband, with his mistress.**_

_**"My night just got better." Christian is the first to speak. His snide comment and unadulterated joy in his tone hint at his lack of knowledge of the dynamics at play in front of him. Dropping the key in the dish, I calmly stroll towards the room. I have one mission in mind, get my purse, and get out. Doing my best impersonation of unconcern, I hurry.**_

_**"I didn't expect you," Kate whispers, working to knot the sash on her siren red short silk robe.**_

_**"Clearly," I mutter in response to the harlot, as I stroll past the wreckage. Out the corners of my eyes, I spot Christian following me further into the den of sex and handing Luke the shirt draping from the armrest of the sofa like it's a bedpost.**_

_**Kate chases after me, and we collide in the bedroom. "You have to let me explain," she whimpers, the door rattling against the frame.**_

_**I snap my head around. "I do."**_

_**"Yes-"**_

_**"Explain what Kate. How you accidentally spilled wine on yourself. Then Luke. You had to strip. And you were only cleaning the stickiness of the grapes from his chest when Christian and I walked it? Is that it?"**_

_**"I'm sorry you had to find out the way you did? Looking back, we were wrong for keeping it from you. But it is no different than what you're doing with Christian."**_

_**"Keep Christian's name out of your mouth. Don't include him in your vulgar mess. You can't compare your fling, to my solid relationship."**_

_**Untying, and retying her sash, Kate juts her chin out. "When you put it like that, I owe you nothing, and neither does Luke. He's a free agent. You have your dream boat." Her tone is hushed and indignant.**_

_**Craning my neck, I get right in her face. "You're no different than Lulu. There are over a billion men in the universe, yet my friends have to fuck mine." She shutters, and I pull back. "I recant. You're worse than Lulu. To her credit, she didn't know. You knew about Luke and me."**_

_**"I know you're over. I know you're getting married. I know he struggles, while you twist him in the wind. You claim to care about him, but all you do is give him hope, only to dash it. You know he's still deeply in love with you." I'm transfixed. "Yeah. He lied. He pretends. It's all ruse. He came back for you. Of course, it'makes sense he'd want to be near you if given a choice. He suffocates his pain and endures the shame of protecting you while you flaunt your new romance in his face. You only keep him around because the disease has inflated your ego. Two strong, handsome men drooling over you is too delicious to upend. Well on his behalf, I'm pleading. Set him free. Let him find the happiness you have."**_

_**"And you're the one. So, you're in love with him?"**_

_**"No. It's deeper. I appreciate him. I restore in him the manhood, every day you systematically dismantle. You have him so twisted, he believes being your second best is better than being someone else's first choice."**_

_**"You think you know him, but you don't. He's no one second…." I lower my gaze to the hardwood to collect my thoughts, and then I peer up at her. "You wanted him from the get-go. I caught the looks, but I gave you more credit than you deserved. I thought you had the decency, or at least the loyalty not to cross any lines. Heck, I didn't think I needed to draw a line. There's the girl code, the sisterhood is supposed to be a stronger bond. I thought we were sisters." Breathing hard, I hold her shifting eyes in one place. "How long have you been carrying on with him behind my back?"**_

_**"He met me in Hawaii."**_

_**"Hawaii... You took him to Hawaii on the trip he bought for me."**_

_**"Are you listening to yourself. You're the reason I was on the trip?"**_

_**"I can't talk to you right now. I'm going to get my bag, and I'm going to leave. And I want you to think. Is he worth our friendship?"**_

_**"You're giving me an ultimatum."**_

_**I pick up the beaded bag from the bed. "I'm giving you a choice." Hesitating at the doorway, I swing forward. "The rest is up to you."**_

_**"We are sisters," Kate says, as I grip the doorknob. **_

_**I fling the door open. "Christian I'm ready."**_

_**Both Luke and Christian rise from the sofa. "Luke, enjoy your night. I take it you'll be at work in the morning," Christian says.**_

_**I train my impassive glare on Luke, as he stares behind me at Kate. I can sense her presence at my back. "Yes," he says, fixing his eyes one me. "Ana, I'll be at Escala at 8:00." My lips twitching, I nod and trot to Christian sliding my arm through his.**_

_**"What's that all about? You. Stepping all over yourself to be nice to Luke," I say to Christian when we're standing on the doorstep, on the other side of deceit.**_

_**"Why are you so undone by it?" I should've known I wasn't concealing anything from him, he's such a keen observer of people.**_

_**"She's my best friend. He's my bodyguard," I stutter. "It's just messy. I thought you would view it in the same light."**_

_**"Quite the opposite. Katherine Kavanagh will be out of my brother's life for good. No more of this back and forth. She's sealed her fate with him. There's honor among thieves, and there's honor among bro-whores. They don't dip their wick in the same candlestick."**_

My husband's distinctive deft fingers, sink into my shoulders massaging them. "You okay?"

My arm flickers back, and I latch onto his wrist. "Yes." I sigh. "Just admiring and appreciating my luck. I can't believe this is my family."

Hovering behind me, Christian angles his head, touching his lips to my ear. "Believe it." I bite my bottom lip. His words touched my heart; his husky voice and breath on my skin reached somewhere else.

Nudging him to the front, I entwine my fingers with his, and hand in hand we join the rest of the family in the main sitting area in the room. Gia Matteo, acting as our lead decorator did a phenomenal job dividing the wide-open space into five conversational areas. Tonight, we're using the seating arrangement that is the focal point of the room. It has a fireplace that invite guests to linger, and overstuffed chairs enticing them to lounge and stay awhile. Mom and Mr. Grey commandeer the sofa, Mia the oversized ottoman in the middle, and Elliot one of the two armchairs rounding out the conversational configuration. Sidestepping Elliot's feet, Christian and I take the twin chair next to him. My husband sits, dragging me onto his lap. I sit on his lap so often, it feels strange when I'm in the office, sitting in my own chair.

My Dad reclines in the lazy boy we added just for him. Since his accident, function is beating out form. He needs to be comfortable. It was our good fortunate that Lazy Boy had begun designing their chairs to be more atheistically pleasing. Gia found a chair in their showroom that fit in well with our décor. I didn't stray from the staid old company for a trendier one because it was what Ray wanted and I wanted to please him. He was struggling to incorporate himself in with my new extended family. The Greys and their money were a constant reminder, of what he couldn't give to me.

He continues to grapple with the share size of Christian's portfolio. Ray Steele is a father, soldier but most of all he's humble. And while Dad appreciates the security Christian's money can afford me, he's turned off by it, but luckily not him. He'd long forgiven Christian for how he'd treated me when I was pregnant, mainly because he saw I had, and he'll do anything for me.

Everyone in their selected seats Christian clicks the clicker raising the screen over the fireplace, and simultaneously dimming the lights. The first image on the screen is me fully dressed in my wedding finery being ferried to the dock at Christian's parent's home. I'd never felt more beautiful. My make-up was applied to perfection by my glam squad. Colin insisted on drama everywhere, but my lips. He wanted a natural lip. For the hair, the stylists opted for soft flowing curls that waved in the wind when the speed boat Mr. Taylor skippered skimmed the water.

Prepped on the Grace, I was transferred to the smaller vessel. The dramatic entry to the dock was made more emotional by the music Christian had piped in. It filled the Sound, and the area surrounding the ceremony site. Christian chose _Marry Me_ by Train. He arranged for them to sing the track live, and recorded it for our wedding. And in some Christian Grey magic, he got the Coast Guard to agree to sprinkle the water near his parents' home with some special water resistant speakers. Listening to Patrick Monahan's voice, and the strings of the guitar, I thought I was going to lose it. But through God's mercy, I didn't. I made it to my next destination with my make-up and dress intact.

The dress. Where do I begin? Mrs. Kavanagh's vision was beyond what I could have imagined. The bodice had the silhouette of a t-shirt. She'd captured the drama Colin was after in the layered concept of the design. The dress was breathtakingly beautiful and distinctively unique, but mostly I fawned over the genius of the design, and how practical it was. The layers would hide the evidence of my non-stop eating. I couldn't discern which protruded more my butte or my gut.

The top layer was made of the finest imported tulle. The second, tiny microscopic crystals so the dress wouldn't be heavy. And the bottom layer was the dress itself. I would lose each, as the wedding, and the reception progressed. Mrs. Kavanagh had the foresight to design the tiers so they weren't too cumbersome for me and engineered them so they could easily be deconstructed for my helpers.

Taylor cuts the boat at the edge of the dock and aids Ethan with getting me onto the dock safely. Christian wasn't thrilled about my choice of Ethan, but I got him on board. I wanted the Kavanaghs to be a part of my wedding, and Ethan is one. Kate's family was the closest family unit I'd had, and on my wedding day, I needed my family. I'd found myself desperately missing my mother and Lulu. My mother's appearance was a foregone conclusion long ago, but I thought Lulu would be here to share the day with me. After all, she'd shared the dream, it was only fitting she saw it to its rightful conclusion.

The memories engulfing my mind, I watch as Ethan places my hand in his father's. Mr. Kavanagh escorts me the length of the dock to where Ray is stoically waiting for me. The music accompanying our walk, was _A Thousand Years_, as performed by Yo-Yo Ma. An unlikely pairing, but once we'd decided we were going to go with Mia's pick, we knew we wanted to put our twist on it. And to our surprise Yo-Yo Ma was agreeable. It wasn't an easy sell, but Mr. Ma performed the pop classic as a favor to Christian and a wedding gift to me. Under Yo-Yo Ma's hand, the song was transformed from an enchanted ballad to something airy, and more ethereal. And the positioning of the flower girls next to him was a Colin Cowie touch. It created a scene out of a dream sequence.

By the time, we're at Ray, his reserved demeanor had slipped, and he was beyond emotional. The tears were leaking from his eyes, and when Jennifer Hudson belted out the first words of_ Flesh Of My Flesh_ I thought we were both going to crumble. The spiritual song was a last-minute selection, chosen by happenstance. Christian, and I heard it on a radio station that had switched to Gospel music in the middle, of its broadcast. Neither one of us is particularly spiritual, I am more than Christian, but soon as we heard the song we knew we had to include it in our wedding ceremony. And we knew just the songstress to bring it to life.

Getting misty eyed, I lay my head on Christian's shoulder watching dad escort me down the aisle to him. Stroking my hair with one hand, Christian circles my waist with the other, nestling his head into mine trying to mold our bodies into one. It seems close is never close enough for us, but we must settle for what we have right now. We'll make up for it in our bed tonight.

Christian is flanked by his groomsmen, Damien Stark, and Gideon Cross. Getting the crew reassembled proved to be a task greater than shooting a man to the moon. But through some cajoling, and a whole lot of pleading I pulled it off, and at the ceremony they struck quite the visual in their tuxedos. And since the three of them have the net worth of 100 small countries our wedding was swarming with security personnel including marksmen. Luckily, they were disguised as wedding guests, and went unnoticed.

It is at this point in the video that I get a heavy heart. The camera pans to Kate, and I mourn the friend I've lost. Not in death, but through something more careless. Jealousy. But the hollowness is always filled with snapshots of Jazz mugging for the camera. I was thrilled I could come to an understanding with her and Amanda. The wedding wouldn't have been the same without them. The two ladies with Mia and Kate completed my side of the bridal party. Serving as my matron of honor meant Kate spent an enormous amount of time with Elliot who was Christian's best man. In the end, it is their pairing that was the final unraveling of our long-lasting friendship. I'd hit the trifecta, the three women I'd loved wholeheartedly had disappointed me.

The screen goes down, and the lights come up marking the end of the wedding ceremony. We rarely make it to the reception portion in one sitting, the ceremony is too emotional. We're thinking by our second anniversary everyone will be able to sit through it without shedding a tear.

"Oh, that video. Though I don't think I need it, I have the memories right here." Sobbing, mom points to her chest. "Aside from bringing my babies home, Christian your wedding had to have been the happiest day of my life," she simpers.

Mia sniffle. "Will we ever be able to watch this, without crying?"

Elliot chortles. "You two. I suspect not." Giggling at Elliot, I lift my head and lean forward searching out Ray.

"Dad you're quiet over there."

"Just taking it all in a baby girl. Just taking it all in."

Pulling me to him, Christian hustles to the edge of the chair. "Mother. Ana and I have been thinking. We hope you'll let us host Christmas again next year. And maybe every year after that."

Mom's eyes widen, and her face lights up. "Oh. And why is that Christian? Could there be the pitter patter of little feet?"

Mr. Grey's eye's flash with a stormy intensity. "I'd think not. Sweetheart, the kids, were just married, and with Ana's grueling schedule I doubt she would have time for children."

"Dad," Christian shouts, and I press my hand to his cheek, silently pleading with him not to challenge his father in his constant needling of me.

Christian's dander down, I set my sight on Mr. Grey. "I'm not too busy for children-"

"Interesting. What about school. What about your company, and I overheard you talking to Grace about how daunting it was to decorate the place? You had to use outside help."

"Carrick Grey, I bring in people to assist me. Ana is no different than any other working woman."

"Really now. Tell me how many working women are teenagers? Ana is younger than Mia. How would you feel if Mia got pregnant?"

"Dad," Mia cries out cutting off her mom, and brother.

Mom throws her hand up. "Let me Christian." Shifting in her seat, she scowls at her husband. "Carrick. Mia isn't married. Your comparison is absurd- "

"And out of bounds," Christian says, breaking into his mother's denunciation of his father's insensitive comments.

"Perhaps, I was off the mark on that one."

"Off, the mark I'd say you missed the whole damn target," Dad barks from his throne

Mr. Grey gestures to my dad. "Ray no offense- "

"No offense." Dad lurches to his feet. "You've been offensive to my daughter all night."

I settle Christian and must work hastily to diffuse dad's ticking time bomb. He's ex-military, I can't gauge the depravity behind his dark eyes. "Everyone calm down there is no baby. And it isn't because of my schedule. For all intents and purposes, Roz is overseeing greySteele Publishing. My educational pursuits are on hiatus. And while this place is ginormous, Gail manages it. We brought in Gia so Gail wouldn't kill herself. As for my age, it's no one's business but mine," I say

"The same for her reproductive organs," Christian adds. "And as far as having children goes, when or if we have them isn't open to a family discussion." He stares at his father.

Satisfied, Mr. Grey got his come upping, Ray trots back to his seat. "Hope you're happy old man. You've done it. Brought the party to screeching halt. I was wondering how long it would take for you to ruin the festivities."

"Elliot Grey the festivities are not ruined. I'm sharing New Year's Eve in the home of my son, and his new wife. Something I didn't think was possible. I know the ball will be dropping soon, but I'd like to make a toast to Anastasia and Christian." Everyone picks up their glasses and raise them. "Anastasia, thank you for doing what I'd failed to do, make my son happy and whole. You've not only brighten his world, but you've also brightened mine and the rest of our family. We were existing, now we're alive, and it is because of the joy, and gracious spirit you've infused into the Grey clan. I am your mother-in-law, but I love you like a daughter. And Christian my brooding prince you've have grown into the King I knew you would be. It just took the love of a woman, not any woman, this woman for you to embrace the love your family has for you, and the love you have for them-"

"Mom, if you go on any longer our arms are going to fall off." Through our tears, we chuckle at Elliot's zaniness.

"I'm almost done. Hang on. I have one more person to thank. Ray." Dad beams with pride. "Thank you for everything you've done to rare such a lovely, smart, and beautiful young woman."

"Here here." Led by Elliot, we clink our glasses, and we take our seats. This time Christian raises the screen so we can watch the TV.

"Next year we should go to New York, and be down there. I can feel the excitement through the TV screen," Mia shrieks.

"Too many people," Elliot says.

"Then you old fogeys can stay at the apartment. Ana and I will go."

"You're on your own little sister, you're not taking my wife to Time Square in that crowd. Look at the hordes of people, Taylor would have a coronary."

Elliot snorts. "And Taylor is the only person that would have a coronary?" Playfully, Christian glowers at his brother.

Mia rolls her eyes. "I've got to find a new family. I need some spontaneity in my life." Her whining draws genuine laughter from the group ending the strain that was gripping everyone. Then it's time for the main event. Since Christian has me ensnared in his lap, mom fills everyone glasses for me.

We count down, the ball drops, we kiss, we sing, and then everyone says goodnight, bringing the long wandering day to an end. Dad goes to his room, in the wing at the other side of the apartment, and Christian, and I say our final goodbye to his family. "Finally, some quiet," Christian says, and crisscrossing our arms, he leads me to the loveseat facing the picture window looking out or down on Seattle depending on your mood. He sits on one cushion, and to my surprise urges me to sit on the other.

"The marriage is already old Mr. Grey," I tease.

"Just the opposite," he says reaching into his pocket, hoisting a small box in front of my eyes.

"Christian, not another present. You've given me so much already. Now, it's just gluttony. I have everything I need. Exactly what I want, and more than I will ever use."

"Except this one thing. Open."

Taking the nondescript box from his hand, slowly I lift the lid. Inside is a tiny porcelain charm. I pull it out and dangle it in front of us. "It's a baby's booty." My eyelids flutter beckoning the burgeoning tears.

"I'm ready to give you the one thing you're missing, and I want. I want nothing more than to be the father of your child. It might be too soon for you, but I wanted you to know I'm ready. I promise you I will be the best father ever. And when the time comes, I will be the partner you deserve. No lashing out. A low bar I know." He simpers.

A soft giggle erupts, as we exchange smiles. "But a high bar for you."

Gently, he rubs my fingers taking the charm from my hand. "Yes, very high. But the old me is dead and buried. You resurrected me, not God's redemption."

"It's because you won't let him."

"In a sermon, long ago, a Priest said you couldn't worship God and man. I choose you. You give to me everything I need. I breathe for you. I thirst for you. I hunger for you. You're more than a desire, you're my craving. Your life. I am nothing without you. I am hollow. I'm flesh with no bones. You say he created me, you're wrong. The most he can take credit for is designing me, you are my creator. I was an empty vessel until you fill it-" I sniffle interrupting him. The desperateness behind his achingly beautiful haunting words, pierce my throbbing heart. The idea that he worships me is something I grapple with to this day. It is a privilege and a heavy burden. "Baby don't cry."

"I am Mrs. Christian Grey, and still I can't believe out of all the women in the world you chose me to love."

He cradles the side of my face. "I had no choice. You complete my heartbeats, I'd die without you."

"Christian." I whimper.

His hand falls away. "I mean it, and I want you to be the mother of my children."

"Children." I sob. "Children." Sobbing I nod. "As in more than one."

"As in more than one Mrs. Grey."

"Are you sure? What about this place. You specifically said we'd live here because there wouldn't be kids for a long time. If at all."

"This isn't an inkling, I'm sure. Are you. Am I moving too fast? Dad's right. You're still just 18." I pop to my feet. "Where are, you going?"

"I have something to show you," I say in a strangled voice. The times it takes for me to race to our bedroom, rummage through my secret hiding place, I return with my leather journal. "Here." Opening it to the desired page, I hand to him.

"What is it."

"Read it."

He peaks down, and back up at me. "I can't. The words are scribbled out."

I point. "Read the date."

"It's from yesterday."

"Last night. When you fell asleep, I wrote down my wish for the New Year. It was to have a baby. But knowing your feeling, I marked it out. I'm showing it to you so you know we're on the same page. I'm ready. I'm more than ready to start our family."

Christian tosses the journal behind him and gripping the charm he flings his arm around my neck. "Looks like mom will get her wish after all," he says, burying his face in my hair.


	57. Chapter 57

**eChapter 57 : Monsters**

_I'm friends with the monsters that's under my bed_

_Get along with the voices inside my head_

_Eminem_

**Disclaimer: FSOG belongs to EL James**

**A/N: **Thank you for your patience. I didn't abandon the story, I had the flu and I'm just now getting my strength back. This chapter picks up with Ana returning home from New York. Please not I'm just getting back into the swing and while I'm feeling much better my brain is still foggy so, please overlook the many mistakes. Again thank you and enjoy

* * *

The landscape seems to elapse one pixel at a time. Every now and then, I break my trance fancying peeks in the rear-view mirror. I catch fleeting glimpses of Luke's appraising glances. Intentionally, I avert my gaze every time refusing to engage him in any way. I'm not in the right headspace for his copious questions. No matter how innocuous, the barrage would only irritate me more. So, hunkering in my corner, I double-down on my brand of isolationism, contemplating my next move, leaving him to quietly size me up.

The SUV leans, as Luke swerve into SIP's driveway. My stomach churns, not from the motion of the vehicle but from the notion of breathing the same air of the man hell-bent on the destruction, and ruination of my life. I'd spent the bulk of the last few days strategizing on how I was going to manage an invigorated Jack, with an inquisitive Luke nipping at our heels.

Jack is the metaphoric shoe I was waiting to drop. Luke, he's something entirely different. If only, I could slap a label on it, life would be a breeze. But the nuisances in our relationship are far too complicated, to be tied neatly in a bow. Our courtship started out wholesome enough, in the typical boy meets girl fashion, but the evolution had been anything but innocent. Missteps, deception, and shoddy decision making along the way quickly transformed the once budding romance into something dubious, forever tarnishing our connection. Which begs the question- is a relationship patched together with threads of secrecy and deceit a relationship, or is it simply something transactional. And weave Jack's dirty dealings into the already weakening tapestry would the seams hold.

In my heart of hearts, I'd made peace with the answer, I was grappling with the Sophie's choice I'd made- forsaken Luke, to protect Christian the only victim, in a crime that was never victimless but also was never criminal. Jack has taken it to that next level. And the sober reality, if it all came to light today, Jack would pay for his crime, but I would do the time. Christian would see to it.

A departure from our normal protocol, Luke drives directly to the back of SIP rolling to a stop in his designated parking space. Cutting the engine, he unbuckles his seatbelt, swivels in the seat and props his elbow on the headrest. "Spill. What went down in New York?"

Prepared for the blitz, I match his death glare, with the implacable stare I'd honed on the journey over. "Luke. I'm fine. New York was great. Christian and I-" He pounds his closed fist on the leather, making me flinch.

"Stop it with the bullshit. I don't need a play by play of your time with Grey, the images are seared in my mind. I'm talking about what happened that night," he seethes.

"Why did you take me to Christian's penthouse?"

His head snaps back. "What."

"When we visited New York. You made it a point to trek me to Christian's apartment. And once there, seemingly you made it your mission to take me on every surface in it- in particularly his bed." Desperate for an answer, to a question that had been nagging me since New York, I play offense.

The strategy is short-lived, Luke's cockiness reemerges. "Didn't hear the complaint when you were screaming my name." I shoot daggers at him with my eyes. "Sorry. I retract the flippant response. The question threw me. Let me start over. If you recall the drive by was a favor for T. But, I'll admit, the rest of it was premeditated. I saw it as a prime opportunity to fulfill a fantasy I had since my teenage years."

I close my eyes. "I can't wait." My lids flash open. "Do tell."

"Fucking my girlfriend, in my boss's bed, and I must confess having someone as dominant as Christian Grey as the boss made the whole thing even more gratifying." His insensitivity is chilling, but I hold my fire until he's finished. "I had no idea of the connection to you." This time he is more contrite, but it's too late.

The sarcastic applause, fills the interior of the SUV. "Congratulations. I hope it was worth it. Because it wasn't to me."

"Hindsight is a bitch, isn't it?"

"A-hole," I spit back at him, "your juvenile antics have obliterated my world."

"There you go, with the hyperbolic language."

"No. You don't get to marginalize my objections when I'm the one who has to endure the fallout from your immaturity!"

"Fucking rich coming from you. Have you read your press lately…" He inhales sharply, denoting his immediate regret at the throwaway line.

My eyes water. "I have," I croak.

His remorse is palpable, but the hurt he's inflicted is just as raw. "Ana stay focused. I'll be your whipping post if that's what you need. I'll shoulder the blame. I knew better, I should've vetted you. But to be honest, I was enjoying the organic nature of our relationship. After years under Grey's tutelage, it was refreshing to trust someone on face value." Luke extends his arm across the headrest touching me on the knee. "Baby Hyde's the enemy, not me."

"Funny, it's getting more and more difficult to tell the difference."

"Wow." He slumps in the seat. It's as though I'd struck him. Despite the persistent chatter about my naiveté, I'm capable of giving as good as I get.

"I'm not comparing you to Jack, Luke. Obviously, your principles are diametrically opposite, but right now you're both hitting the same nerve. And trust me, it isn't my G-spot," I say, dryly, and begrudgingly he cracks a smile at my gallows humor. I suppress my bubbling snicker at the unscripted zinger, resisting the urge to get drawn into a Luke, and Ana giggling fest- the discussion is too weighty. "Listen. I am focused. I'm focused on my wedding-" Dismissively, he snorts distracting me, and I cock my eyes at him.

"I'm beginning to think I never knew you. Your primary focus is on the lavish ceremony, and not the underpinnings of the marriage. Really. One guarantees you a moment, but the other promises a lifetime of moments."

"F, you Luke Sawyer. Who are you to judge me? You want to know what happened in New York." I yank the backpack from the floorboard. "I died tiny little deaths every time I lied in the same bed with him, I'd lied in with you. Tears from my invisible sobs joined in with the steaming water from the shower running hot down my cheeks, every time I showered with him in the same shower I'd showered in with you. Your ghost looms large in every nook, and cranny of that apartment. So, to reiterate was it worth it- tainting one more thing in my life, in the same way, you've tainted me for Christian." Luke slouches against the door panel, and training my eyes on him, I hoist the leather computer bag Christian had bought for me in New York onto my shoulder. "Consider yourself caught up. That's how New York went down." Hastily, opening the car door, I leap from the lion's den straight into the ring of fire.

The day was spent performing mind-numbing tasks. Jack exhorted his power over me, by treating me like an intern, instead of an intellectual like Elizabeth. I got his coffee, scanned the mountain of contacts from the conference into the database, and performed other menial tasks not germane to my job. But, I sucked it up, reminding myself it could've been worse. After all, Jack was restrained. He was professional to a fault, and I was shameful in my complicity, acting like his dutiful assistant instead of a real-life damsel in distress.

My brazen performance was as much as a wink and a nod to Jack, as a plausible alibi for Luke. And if the drama playing out were impacting someone else's life, I'd consider the sequence of events comical, if not educational. I'd had a courtside seat to an evil mind at work. True to his nefarious nature, Jack didn't veer from his villain stereotype, he looked me in the eyes as if New York had never happened.

Exhausted from the award-winning performance, I stumble inside the back of the SUV falling into Christian's waiting arms. "Long day." Stealthily, sliding the middle restraint over my shoulders, he gives me a sweet peck on the forehead.

"Very."

Struggling with the latch, he inquires, "what happened?"

I sigh. " Jet lag from the trip, rusty from the extended time off, you name it. But nothing for you to get bent out of shape about."

"Jet lag." He chuckles, "what are you going to do when we return from our honeymoon abroad."

Through my lashes, I peer up at him. "Speaking of which are you going to tell me where we're going?"

"Jason. Escala. Inform Gail we'll be home for dinner."

"Yes, Mr. Grey."

Pressing my palms into his chest, I rise. "Wait. You had plans?"

"Yes."

"Is it a surprise. You didn't mention anything at lunch."

"Something like that."

"Well. I want my surprise. Give me my surprise Grey."

"So, demanding."

"Christian."

"Baby, it isn't that serious." He grins.

"Let me be the judge."

"I thought I'd show you off. Venture out for a change of pace. Much to my chagrin, New York didn't lift your spirits, it put you more into a funk than you were before you left."

"Christian. I'm not in a funk. I am happier than I've ever been. I'm thrilled to be engaged to you."

He touches my hand. "You don't have to convince me, I'm a keen observer of people. Aside from work, the occasional dinners at my parents, we haven't gotten out much since you moved to Seattle-"

"For good reasons."

"True. But the number of reporters camping out at Escala has thinned significantly. We have more freedom of mobility; therefore, I planned an evening away from Escala. I surmised it would do wonders for your debilitating mood swings. "

"Debilitating." My range of motion is limited by the strap of the seatbelt, so, I ease as far upright as I can go. "Listening to you, one would think I was having a mental breakdown…"

Caressing my chin, Christian coaxes me down. "Baby, you're projecting. I don't know how you derived at that assessment from what I said. Regardless, tonight isn't a good night for a social experiment. You need to de-stress, and I have the remedy." He flashes his enigmatic smile. "A luxurious bath, and an attentive Fiancé fulfilling your every desire."

"What if my desire is to go out?"

"You are relentless."

"What can I say, the idea is growing on me. You've done nothing but care for me these last few days. You deserve a night out, as much as, I do." I stroke his necktie. "I'm not an invalid, and I'm sure as heck not suffering a nervous breakdown. So, if you want to please me, Mr. Grey don't tease me. Take me dancing." Whispering, I bat my lashes at him.

"You little temptress," he says. "Nice try Miss Steele. You're good, but I'm better." Smirking, he tugs the tie from my fingertips.

"Christian, please. It seems like forever since I've been on a dance floor-"

"Gee. I wonder why."

I frown at him. "Christian, Ethan was a lifetime ago."

"Baby, dancing was never on the agenda."

"Put it on there. You're you. There's nothing more therapeutic, than dancing. I bet you, Seattle is teaming with under 21 clubs."

"There's the rub. A club, catering to your age range, for me is a dive bar somewhere near a college campus. And I'm sorry, but I don't' consider watching immature people behaving badly a relaxing night badly out."

"You're stereotyping."

"Perhaps. But it's a moot point, you're dead on your feet."

"I am not."

"Anastasia, you just admitted it."

"Okay, I'm a little lethar-" I scrunch my face.

"Too late, I heard it. Lethargy is what sent you to the Dr. I'm not taking any chances."

"Don't be a stick in the mud. Live a little."

"You're talking to the man whose lived more lifetimes than Edward Cullen."

I laugh. "Talked to your sister today, huh."

"Right after you left." Christian, runs his hand through his hair. "I swear, if she mentions, _A Thousand Years_, to me one more time, I will cut my throat."

I giggle. "Did you tell her."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'd have to defend why Yo-Yo Ma, and not Christina Perri."

"I'm confident Yo-Yo Ma, will win her over with his reimagination of the arrangement."

"Who cares. Mia will survive; a little suspense won't kill her."

"Do it for your peace of mind, she'll stop badgering you."

Unhooking my seatbelt, Christian hoists me onto his lap. "I don't want to talk about my sister. I want to talk about what I'm going to do to you when I get you home," he says, rubbing his nose against my neck.

Tilting my head to the side, I expose more of the skin to him. "I have an idea."

Rolling his head to the headrest, he sighs. "Anastasia, for the last time I'm not going to spend my night with a bunch of Generation Xers."

"Excuse me. You do realize that's my generation. Right."

"Yes. Your one person, I can handle you it's the mob that's cringeworthy." He cocks his head to the ceiling. "I'm going to regret this, but what's the idea?"

I beam, I'm so giddy. "We could go to The Mile-High Club."

"Not an option. I'm not going to close my restaurant on a whim, I don't care how much my adorable fiancé pouts."

"I wasn't asking you too."

"You didn't have too, the nature of what you want dictates it. A lot of planning behind the scenes went into converting the space into a concert venue for your birthday celebration. We simply don't have that kind of time."

"Work with me here."

"Anastasia. Drop it. We're almost home. I don't want to fight with you." Swaddling me in his arm, Christian lowers me to his chest. "I'll run your bath. Leave you to soak for a while, then I'll wash your back." Dragging the bejeweled tip hairpin from my tightly wound ball, Christian angles his head. "Sounds, good?" he says, my hair spilling down my back.

Visions of Kate and I party at the bar on WSU, and Luke and I dancing the night away at Harvard dissolving into a kaleidoscope of images, I mumble, "sure," and stare vacantly at the random headlights punctuating the slow-moving traffic jam. Then I pretend to sleep simply to avoid conversing with him for the remainder of the short ride home.

Christian shrugs his shoulder nudging my head. "You didn't eat much for lunch. Do you want to eat first, or have your bath?" The door pings open, and the aroma from Miss Jones latest culinary creation wafts inside the elevator, instantly pepping me up.

"Dinner."

Smiling, Christian ushers me out, as Mr. Taylor holds the door open for us. "Mr. Grey. Miss Steele," Miss Jones says when she detects our presence at the breakfast bar.

"Boy, it smells delicious in here," I say, rolling my shoulders aiding Christian in removing my jacket.

"Thank you, Miss Steele. I hope you like it. It's a vegetable ragout. On such short notice, it was the heartiest thing I could whip up. I thought I'd serve it over penne pasta, with orange discs, topped with flaked tuna as a starter."

Christian drapes the coat on the same barstool as my backpack. "Perfect, Gail. When will it be ready?"

"In about 30 minutes. If you're hungry, I can make you a snack, Mr. Grey."

"I'm good. I ate my lunch. Ana didn't, she may want a small bite to tide her over." Christian places his hand on the small of my back.

"Miss Jones, I can wait. It's only 30 minutes."

"Then Gail, buzz us when dinner is ready. We'll be in my room." Applying pressure to my spine, he marshals me to the bedroom, and I stumble through the doorway. "Whoa, you okay."

I balance on his arms. "Yeah. I tripped on the dumb laces. I tied them around my ankles, and one came undone."

The door closes, and I make a bee-line to the bed, sitting on the edge working on my ankle boots. Eying me speculatively, Christian removes his jacket, neatly folding it in half placing it on the bench at the foot of the bed, and then making quick work of the tie he slings it on top. Fumbling with the buttons on his cuff, Christian heads to the bed joining me. "Talk to me." Closing my eyes, I take a calming breath. "If not me, then Flynn." His intense gray eyes pierce through the noise as if he's extracting from my soul what I'd buried from him.

"After the fiasco, with my last therapist…thank you. But no thank you."

"She wasn't a therapist, she was a hack."

"Christian you worry about me too much. You're going to go gray."

"I feel responsible, I never should've allowed you to go to New York, without me."

"You had no choice. I wanted to. Our relationship isn't defined by rules you scribbled on a piece of paper. We're equal partners, you don't own me. You don't get the final say."

His chisel jaws clench and unclench. "Flynn strongly, recommends that we get in at least one session as a couple before the wedding."

I chortle. "I'm not sure what that says about us. Instead of prayer, we need counseling before getting married."

"Perhaps, we need both."

"I thought you had an aversion to God."

He shrugs his shoulder. "He's fines- his rules are little too stringent for me."

"What the 12 commandments limits are too hard for you."

"I may be morally bankrupt, but I have enough biblical knowledge, and mother wit not to draw parallels between the good book, and BDSM." He lifts my hand. "You're creating an aversion, but it's not going to work. Your demeanor has been off since before New York, the trip only exacerbated. I want the truth. You can be honest with me, I won't cause a scene. Is it work-"

I jerk my hand away lightening quick. "Don't you dare Christian. I'm warning you. Do not use my vulnerability, as an excuse to interfere in my job. I want to work. I am too young to be your trophy wife, and I don't want to live in your shadow. I'm trying here Christian. Really trying. Trying to find a way to fit the life I'd envisioned for myself, into the life you're carving out for me."

"You didn't let me finish-"

I cut him off again. "Sorry, but you can't blame me. Even you have to admit your vision for me is pretty narrow- work for you or don't work at all."

"I wish you could see you how I see you. I am beyond proud of you. Your accomplishments, at your age, are immeasurable. I don't want to wander down a well-worn path, it will get us nowhere. All I aim to do is sort out what's eating at you. If it's the wedding, we can elope."

"Stop it, Christian. You keep wanting to fill in the blank with cookie cutter questions. For a man who should come with a user guide, he's so complicated, it dumbfounds me you're stuck on the minutiae. Forget about the clichés, the fact is the world that orbits around you is overwhelming, it's taking everything in me to keep from getting swept up in the vortex."

"What a dystopian existence you paint living with me."

"Christian you can't insist on the truth and be too thin skinned to hear it. I've lived in dystopia, and this is far from it. I know I'm blessed. I'll get through it. It is what it is. You have nothing to fix."

Yanking me from the bed by my arm, Christian drags me between his leg tipping his head up. "At some point, we'll need to delve deeper into what you said, this isn't the point. Kiss me." I brace on his shoulder and blanketed by my hair, I plant a chaste kiss on his lips. "In case you didn't know it, you don't settle. Your passion when it isn't raging white hot is ice chilling the blood in my veins. You do not exist in shades, you live in color." I feel his lips curl into a small smile against my lip. "It's been 4 days since I've made love to you. Not that I'm counting."

The cool fresh scent of his breath brushing against my lip I mutter, "I'm sorry," and plying light pressure on his lips I deepen our connection to a chaste kiss.

Christian extracts his tongue. "I wasn't complaining. Watching you sleep is arguably one of the greatest joys of my life. It brings me the peace that had always managed to elude me. The air whistling between your teeth, when you breathe, the rise and fall of your chest, and the way your nose crinkles, are the small things that bring me more pleasure than sex. They give me life."

I gather his face in my hands. "Just when I think I can't love you anymore you make my heart explode." I gawk at his beautiful facing peering up at me sensually disrobing me with his eyes.

"Damn you're sexy."

The uneasiness growing, I drop my hands. "We'd better get changed. It's almost time for dinner."

Christian grips the sides of my waist, anchoring me to the floor. "Where are, you going, we have time."

"Christian. Miss Jones said 30 minutes, and -"

"How quickly you forget." Acting like my puppet master he bends me at the waist, and I fall forward, sinking my fingers into his broad shoulders. "My house. My staff. Dinner is when I say it is." Cupping the nape of my neck, he lowers my head thrusting his tongue inside my mouth.

"Mr. Grey, dinner is ready," Miss Jones' disembodied voice beams over the intercom and our tongues pause mid slithering, and we snicker.

I murmur into his mouth, "I know you're all powerful Oz, but Miss Jones reigns supreme." Pulling away, I straighten my spine raking my fingers through my hair piling it on top of my head, away from my face.

Christian nabs my hand when I step back. "Dinner can wait."

The constant flow of electricity between us is threatened by the indomitable force field spawned by my well-intentioned, but not well thought out decision making. "Christian, let's not be rude." My hand slips away, and I scurry to the door.

"I'm beginning to think I'm the problem, not my environment."

I wheel around at the entrance and hanging onto the lip of the door frame, I poke my head back inside flashing a playful smile. "Paranoia doesn't suit you, Grey." I give him a good-natured ribbing to reframe the conversation

"Oh. Miss Steele." He rises, and I take off squealing.

I scream when he hooks his arm around my waist. "I can't believe you caught me." Giggling, I float back in his arms resting the back of my head on his shoulder.

"You can't run from me. I will catch you every time," he whispers in my ear. "Say you love me."

"I love you, Christian," I utter.

He licks the inside shell of my ear. "Now, say it like you mean it, that was with purpose," he commands, and involuntarily my muscles clench.

"I love you," I say, breathily

"That's my girl." His hands descend to his sides locking fingers with mine lifting me onto the tips of his shoes, transporting me the short distance to the kitchen.

"Ah. Mr. Grey, and Miss Steele." Miss Jones, can't suppress her delight when she spots us. "The table is set. I thought you'd want to have dinner in the dining room tonight.".

"Good idea. We have been eating at the breakfast bar a lot lately," I say, slipping to the tiled floor in my bare feet, luckily it's heated.

"Yes, Gail thank you, for restoring decorum back into our meal time."

I giggle. "Funny." Bobbing his head, playfully Christian mouths no it wasn't to me keeping his humorous side hidden from his housekeeper.

"Well, I'll leave you to your meals. Enjoy."

Miss Jones disappears, and Christian escorts me to the table. Ragout turned out to be as scrumptious as I'd imagined. But it was the tuna and citrus salad that was the revelation. The combination seemed odd, but the aromatic flavors of the oranges, meld well with the clean, fresh taste of the tuna, but it was the imported olive oil drizzled on top that made the ingredients sing.

"Nice job Miss Steele," Christian says, dabbing his mouth with his napkin.

I lay my napkin on the table. "Remember that, when I'm too big to fit into my wedding gown."

He scoots back in the chair. "That's your concern, not mine." He rises. "And I don't know why. You're in amazing shape. Sure, you're not running, but you're offsetting the increased intake of calories, with other strenuous activities."

"Is your mind always on sex?"

His eyebrows arch. "Apparently not, seeing I haven't had any in days." A sudden thickness develops in my throat, and I clam up. "Get out of your head," he whispers, in my ear hovering behind me.

I offer him my hand. "Thank you," I say, coming to my feet.

"You're welcome." Weaving my arm with his, Christian tilts his head down. "Running. Think you're ready… I miss you on the trail," he says, leading me to the main room.

"Really, I thought, I intruded on your alone time."

"With you in my life, I loathe alone time."

"Ah, that's nice to hear. But I'm sort of enjoying my routine. I'd like to stick with it. At least until after the wedding."

"Baby, believe it or not, I don't care." Unwinding our arms, Christian sinks to the sofa reclining against the armrest. Scissoring his legs, he hauls me down between them. "Comfortable."

I squirm. "Getting there," I say. "Now, I am."

"Good."

I hold my cell up to him. "Colin has questions about the music." Christian yanks the iPhone out of my hand.

"Hey, hey, hey."

"I don't want you tethered to your phone."

"He sent it earlier, I'm just now showing it to you."

"It doesn't matter. I'm wedding- planning out."

"You're the one who wanted the wedding."

"Correction. I wanted the marriage."

"Well, you can't have the marriage without a wedding."

"Yes, you can. Separate the ceremony from the wedding. We can exchange wedding vows anywhere, hence why I've advocated for eloping " Inclining his front into my back, Christian picks up the remote control replacing it with the phone in his hand. "Anyways we're splitting hairs. At this point, Grace would kill us if we denied her a wedding."

I cock my eyes back at him. "And Mia."

"Don't remind me." He sighs. "I'll have Andria touch bases with Cowie in the morning." Christian hooks his arm around my waist, tugging me taunt to him. The modest tent in his pants jabs me in the back sparking my dormant libido, and I peel his arm away.

Flipping forward, seductively, I crawl to my knees plucking the remote from his hand. "We won't need this." Hooping the small gadget to the rear, I start unbuttoning my blouse.

"Do, I need to remind you where you are?"

I ditch the slow reveal and slip the blouse over my head. "What do you think," I mewl, dropping the satin garment off to the side.

A calculating glance filters through the blaze flickering in his eyes. "If you're comfortable, I am."

I reach behind me. "Sometimes you have to live on the edge, Mr. Grey." The fasteners on the bra give way, and I let the straps slink down my arms unleashing my swollen breasts to him. "

He lunges, heaving the breasts in his hands, and my head drifts back. "Baby, I invented the edge."

Tipping my head upright, I bump his large mitts out of the way and fall forward plunging the heavy mounds in his face. Nabbing a stiff peak between his teeth, Christian gropes the other breast roughly massaging, and squeezing it.

"Mr. Grey." I jerk. The nipple abrades Christian's teeth, and at the same time, I fold my arms in front of my chest flopping down on top of him. Cowering, I make myself smaller rolling into a ball.

"Aha-" I slap my hand over my mouth stifling my high-pitched squeal as I tumble over the sofa. The fasteners on the bra still attached to my wrist smacking me in the face, and I crash to the floor.

Christian kneels next to me. "Baby, are you hurt."

"Mr. Grey." Mr. Taylor's urgent voice booms in my ear.

"Stay back Taylor!" Christian barks, his arms jutting outward, shielding me.

"Yes, sir. I'm not moving. Is everything alright sir."

"Here put this on," Christian whispers shoving his shirt in my face. "That's what's I'm trying to determine."

"I'm fine Christian," I murmur, clutching my midsection.

"You're not fine." He untangles the bra from my hand. "You're in pain."

I bat him away. "Please see what Mr. Taylor wants. I'm dying here."

Reluctantly standing, he keeps his eyes trained on me. "This had better be good Jason," he barks.

"There's a ruckus brewing at the Mexico facility. I thought you'd want to address it before it got out of hand like before," Mr. Taylor informs him.

"Fuck. Meet me in the office."

"Yes, sir."

Christian collapses to his knees. "He's gone. Baby, let me take you to the hospital or at least call my mother. Your fall was quite hard."

"It sounded louder than it was. Despite the injury to my self-esteem, I didn't break any bones. Luckily embarrassment is a part of speech and not a vertebra."

"Don't joke, Anastasia," he says, threading his arm under my neck.

"No. Leave here. Meet with Mr. Taylor. I'm fine."

"Anastasia you're insane, I will not leave you prostrate on this floor."

Clutching his shirt to my chest, I draw myself upright. "Better."

"You are one stubborn woman..."

"Don't forget infuriating."

He smiles. "How can I, when you challenge me every day."

I cup the side of his face. "Seriously, go. Mr. Taylor is waiting for you. I'll meet you in the bedroom."

He plants a kiss on my wrist, and move my hand to my lap. "The Bedroom." The corners of his luscious lips curve into a wry smile. "Pick up where we left off." Coquettishly, I nod, and slowly he rises. "Just so, you know, I know I've been handled." Playing along, I match his derision with a tight lip smile.

His footsteps growing faint in the distance, I release the breath I'd been holding. The spasms have lessened significantly, all but eliminating the need for medical assistance. Relieved, and suddenly craving a hug I drag his shirt up my arms gathering the plackets reveling in his scent. Clenching the prima cotton to my chest, I hustle across the floor on my bottom resting my back against the skirt, of the sofa working the kinks out of my back. My body restored to some sense of normalcy, and the mortification over the stupid fall waning, I scramble to my feet before Christian found me still on the floor.

Ambling down the hallway, I pause at his office, pressing my ear to the door. To my dismay, the dense wood hampers me from hearing anything but gobbled sounds. My eavesdropping foiled, I mosey to the bedroom flipping on the switch, and immediately flip it off, preferring the natural ambiance from the early night sky to the artificial light.

Resting on the edge of the bed, from the waist down, I strip leaving my trousers, and panties in a poodle on the floor. Electing to wait for Christian to shower, I button a few more buttons on his shirt and fish my iPod from the top drawer of the bedside table. Gingerly, lounging against the headboard, I draw my legs up. Sticking the earbuds in my ear, I try to scratch my covetous itch.

Growing restless, I jerk the earpiece from my ears, discarding the iPod to the bedside table. I'd underestimated the time it would take Christian, and the devil was starting to toy with my idle mind. So, rolling across the California king, I dig inside the drawer on his side of the bed swiping the key from its hiding place carefully sliding down the bed. My feet hit the floor, and I double back retrieving the iPod stuffing it into the breast pocket of the shirt.

I race out of the room, and like a masked intruder, I tiptoe past Christian's office sneaking upstairs. Pausing on the landing, I consider the consequences and the motivation behind the impulse. Separating the lies from the fiction, I end up somewhere close to the reality. I am curious, but in all honesty, I'm a glutton eager to explore the vast pleasures of a world with Christian, Luke had unwillingly introduced me to.

Steadfast in my decision, inhaling I plunge the key inside the slot and exhale when the lock disengages. I poke my head inside at first, then I barge in. Feeling along the wall for the switch, I flood the inky darkness with light. The room illuminated, I stand in awe, marveling at how surprisingly warm, and eerily welcoming it is. Void the emotional entanglement, of my first and only visit, I have more appreciation for how well-appointed the space truly is.

The decadent red walls are so, saturated the surfaces resemble supple leather. I follow the trail of red, to the largest piece in the room. Donned in red silk that rivals the texture of the walls, the oversized rod iron bed akin to something transported from a medieval chronicle is floating in the middle of the room. The luxurious fabric of the bedding invites you to crawl in and read a book, as much as, it does to indulge in debauchery and wickedness. The other furnishings in the room is notable for the same dichotomy, making it keenly obvious each exquisite piece was chosen by Christian for their contradictory usage, and how they relate to each other

My eyes bounce from one visual treat to another, and momentarily I'm struck by the absence of windows. The omission is a stark reminder that I'm standing in a dungeon, Christian's facetious moniker notwithstanding. The new discovery cycling through my brain, I gravitate further into the room drawn to a rack right in front of me, made of the same rod iron as the bed. It is dripping with interesting apparatuses. Drifting closer, I drag the thin leather blade of a whip between my fingertips. Tap the pad of a riding crop on my palm. Scrutinize the cruelty of the cane, and brush the tail of the can a nine against my skin, all the while evaluating the inner workings of the mind who thirst to use each to beat a woman into submission or punish her. I then contrast that dominant mind with the mind of the man who'd prefer to rock me to sleep, then have a risqué romp in the hay.

The jarring juxtaposition forces me to come to terms with my conflicting ideas surrounding BDSM. My puritanical thinking, has me questioning my judgment for craving the kinkiness associated with the taboo lifestyle. Mentally exhausted, I slump down on the bed. The coolness of the silk relieving some of my tension, I sprawl out to fully decompress before tackling the ornate chest of drawers sandwiched between the bed, and the rack. Fishing the iPod from the shirt pocket, I stuff the earbuds in my ears, and as Rihanna and Marshall Mathers ironically sing about monsters I close my eyes, splaying my arms out daring to touch the shackles attached to each bedpost.

"Anastasia!" Shuddering, I squint as Christian comes into view. "What are you doing. What are doing in here?" He yells at me, not allowing the fog time to dissipate from my brain.

Dragging my stiff arms from their frozen position on the bed, I rub my sleepy eyes. "I must've fallen asleep."

"You think," he snaps, and I jolt upright. "But it doesn't answer my question. Why are you even in here? You scared the shit out of me. I checked everywhere in this God damn apartment." The creases on his forehead hint at the crux of the problem.

I graze his fingertips. "Christian I'm here. I didn't run." Hesitantly, he sinks down next to me. I remove the iPod from his grip, putting it back where it belongs, and cover his hand. "I'm right here, baby."

Pensively, he gazes at me. "And you came in here why?"

I debate the response, but in the end, I persist with the false narrative. "To get closer to you. Better understand what drives you. Every inch of you."

"Anastasia, you're already closer to me than any other person on this earth. If you get any closer, you'd be in my skin. Figuratively, you're already there, but literally, you'd be inside me."

"That's what I want. To be inside your head."

He cups the side of my face, and his thumb brushes my bottom lip. "You don't want to be inside my head, it's too crowded with demons, and thoughts of demons."

"I do. Look at this way, let me in, and I'll push some of them out." He wraps his hand around my neck, and the possibilities abound. "Oh Christian," I moan. His eyes pan the room, and he drops his hand snaking his arm behind me. "Huh...What are you doing?" I stammer.

"Taking you out of here?" My arm encircles his neck. "I can't believe you fell asleep in here. I never want you sleeping in here again." Admonishing me, he lifts me off the bed, and I peek back, at the cuffs, testing my resolve.

"But..."

He heaves me up to his body, and the iPod drops to the floor, blasting _What's My Name_ "Snoop Dogg?" Christian says, stooping to retrieve it.

I give my shoulder a half- shrug. "Fzzsure."

He shakes his head. "That was lame."

"I know. I'm tired."

"You were in a deep sleep. I almost didn't wake you."

"Why did you. You could've joined me."

He snorts. "No."

"Why. For a room, you label as cold, and hell reincarnated you sure have it decorated cozily- a comfy bed, warm red walls-"

"The red paint wasn't chosen for its decorative value. It symbolized the blood that would be shed." Yanking the door back, he leaves me to discern if it was merely another one of his provocative statements.

* * *

**Wednesday**

Roused by the three As'; awake, alert, and aroused, I strain to get a better peek at the clock. It's 3:45 AM. Depending on your outlook, it is either the dead of night or first thing in the morning. I. Am. Horny. So, I'm going with the dead of night, it's when I'm at my best. Christian would've chosen morning because of his obsession with watching me come.

Pressing my chin into my chest, I peer at the top of Christian's sleeping head. Dozing peacefully, he is entwined around my body like Ivey. After returning from the playroom we showered, and it wasn't a euphemism for something more titillating. We were optimistic, but the desire for sleep overtook desire. I was worn out. Christian was equally exhausted. He'd spent the last few days watching me eat, read and sleep. Now, looking at him, I'm overrun with the urge to do the same things. So, delicately I inch up to improve my view. He stirs, and I still.

In the dimness, the white of groggy gray eyes fix on my more alert pupils. "You're awake," he says, sleepily

"Uh-huh."

"And now so, am I." Threading his arm under my waist, Christian lugs me down, so we're at eye level. "You're awake. I'm awake. What shall we do about it?" His head dips sucking in a breast through my French charmeuse nighty gown.

My back arches. "Aha," I moan.

Rooting the damp fabric from my chest with his nose, Christian ensnares the pert nipple between his teeth at the same time burrowing his hand inside the décolletage sinking his fingers into the flesh of the other mound. Massaging one breast, he teases, bites, and sucks the nipple of the other. His mouth, and hands alternating between swollen mounds, I slide my hands into his hair, tugging hard. "Tell me what you want baby," Christian mutters, into my sensitive flesh.

"You. Please," I purr.

Touching his lips to my clavicle, neck, and jawline, Christian kisses his way to my mouth plunging his tongue deep in my throat. He steals my labored breath, as my fingers curl around the nape of his neck, and then abruptly he extracts his tongue. "You'll never have to beg me. Not unless I explicitly tell you." He splays his palm on my belly, and I quiver. "What. Are you sure you weren't hurt?"

I draw in my stomach muscles. "Yes," I murmur.

"Good." His tongue darts inside my mouth kissing me fervently, as he smooths his palm along the plain of my stomach. The nightgown riding up my body, his muscular thighs coax my legs apart. Then Wedging himself inside the gap, Christian ends the kiss positioning his rock-hard erection at the juncture of my thighs. Cradling my head, he then flexes his hip penetrating me in one stroke.

I gasp. "OH, Gawd," I cry out, the spasms hitting me from his meaty head slamming into my organs.

Christian stills, and giving me time to acclimate he peppers kisses on the corners of my mouth. "Sorry baby. I didn't mean to hurt you. I don't think I'll ever get used to how damn tight you are."

Panting, I lick my lips. "I didn't realize a few days would feel like my first time."

"Baby, abstaining isn't the issue. It's how your body is wired. And I for one am very thankful," he whispers, in the crook of my neck. "You tell me when to move. You're in control." Involuntarily my walls contract around his twitching cock, a not so subtle reminder that he controls my body not me.

"Aha," I whimper, "now."

Coming up on his arms, tenderly Christian grinds down on me. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Christian. I want this," I plead. "No. I need this. I need you."

"Say it again." Flexing his pelvis, he drills deeper stoking the million tiny sparks flickering inside me. His balls slap against my ass as he slams into me over and over. "Oh God, I. Need. You."

"That's my girl." He grunts, dipping two fingers between us circling my clit. As his finger glide over the slick bundle of nerves, I burst into flames

"Oh Christian, I love you," I chant, as the inferno engulfing me consumes him too."

His thickness pulsate. "Fuuuck." Fisting my negligee, Christian rips the delicate straps from my shoulders as he fills me with his seed. "Damn, I needed that," he croaks, collapsing on top of me.

Giggling, I encircle his back with my arms. "I guess watching me sleep isn't better after all."

"It's a close second," he mumbles in my hair. "I think I just died and gone to heaven."

"Thank you for your patience."

Christian's head jerks up, and he covers my mouth suffocating my words. I taste the arousal on him, our aroma is that heady. "You don't have to thank me. It's my job to give you what you need when you need it. But let's be clear, our marriage will be different. Regardless of the situation, I won't be denied your body," he whispers inside my mouth.

"I am sorry."

He pecks me on the tip of my nose. "Baby, you don't have to keep apologizing. I've expressed how satisfying it is to take care of you. I just want to safeguard our sanctuary. Your body is more than just a vessel to me, it is the temple where I worship. Sex with you is more than sex- it is purifying-"

I suck the words out of his mouth. "I do that to you. I thought it was one-sided."

"The rush to make you my wife isn't proof enough that I love you beyond measures, then let me speak more plainly. I Christian Trevelyan Grey love Anastasia Rose Steele from here to eternity, and back." My walls clench around his semi-flaccid cock enticing him deeper. "Fuck. You did that on purpose."

Kittenishly, I nod. "It is all you. What you do to me," I murmur, and just like that he's rejuvenated.

I hopple into SIP, my muscles revolting as if he'd worked me over with the many erotic implements in his playroom. "Good morning Ana."

"Well good morning to you too Hannah. What am I chopped liver?" Luke says

"Definitely, not. I don't like liver."

Rolling my eyes to the ceiling, I wave at Hannah. "Chat with you later, going to my desk."

"Be worn, Jack's on a tear."

Luke growls. "What's new?"

"Give credit where credit is due." Hannah cocks her head to the side. "He's been chillax since the conference."

"If you say so," Luke replies.

Thanks, for the warning Hannah."

"Wait, I'll walk with you."

"Luuuke. Make your Starbucks run. I'm sure Hannah could use her vanilla latte."

"Preach… but I think I want a mocha today."

"Tea for me." Rolling his eyes at me, he struts out the door.

"Finally. He's gone," Hannah says, sidling up next to me. "You got some last night."

"Ssh."

"Shush, yourself. It's just you and me."

Sliding my computer bag down my shoulders to my hands, I lock arms with Hannah. "Walk with me," I say. "I'm not confirming or denying, but why would you ask?"

"Your aura is different. You're alert. I notice it in your face." I pat, my cheeks. "Silly, you can't feel it, it's visual. Your skin isn't pasty, and dull, it's so luminous you're practically glowing. But the tell-tale sign- the bow in them legs. You're walking like you're returning from a dude ranch." I spew the spit from my mouth, precipitously bringing us to a halt, and mockingly, Hannah pats me on the back. "You're okay?"

I clear my throat. "No!"

"Don't be embarrassed, I wouldn't be. By the way, a suit hugs your man's bod, I'm willing to bet a large bank account isn't the only sizable part of his asset."

I chuckle. "Okay, can we stop objectifying my fiancé," I say, and like school girls, we burst into a fit of giggles.

Seemingly, out of nowhere Jack appears in front of us, and instinctively we break our connection. "Ladies. What's so funny? " he says, glancing at his watch. "Didn't realize it was lunch time."

"Sorry, we didn't mean to cause a seen. Hannah was reviewing something with me, and it made me laugh."

"Who knew work could be so humorous. I like to laugh, as much as, the next man. Please share."

"It's not appropriate for the office," I say.

He crosses his arm in front of his chest. "Yet. Here we are in an office."

"Umm. Ana is too polite. It wasn't about work. I was relaying to her a story about my 90-year-old aunt and her new much younger beau." Hannah says, and I roll the corners of my eyes at her.

"Is that right." Jack's arms falling to his side, he scopes out the reception area. "Where's the other stooge?"

"If you mean Luke, he went to Starbucks." Hannah continues to assert herself, answering questions she knows are directed at me.

"And, he didn't ask me."

I jump in, ahead of Hannah. "I'm sure it was an oversight, Jack."

"Right. The man wouldn't offer me water if I were on fire." He nods at Hannah. "Work on the report I just emailed you," he orders, and gesture to me next. "You. Meet me in my office." He stomps off. "Now." He throws out over his shoulder.

Hannah snags my arm when I move. "What."

"I'm just going to say it. Is Luke single? I want to sleep with him."

"Jack is breathing down my throat, and you choose now to broach that subject."

"Mm." She nods.

"Alrighty then. At the risk of sounding ancient aren't you putting the proverbial horse before the cart

"Maybe but this mare is horny, and the cart is empty."

"I'm sorry Hannah, I need a drink before I can have this conversation with you."

"You don't drink."

"Exactly." I hand my bag to her. "Hang on to this."

"You want to wait for Luke "

" No. why "

" I haven't said anything, but I notice how he crowds your personal space."

"That explains it. Thank you, for looking out for me, but Jack is harmless. You said it yourself, he's more chilled. His bark is worse than his bite." I step away, and backpedal. "By the way does your 90-year old aunt have a young boyfriend?"

"Nope."

"Do have a 90-year old aunt?"

"Nope."

Laughing, I traipse to Jack's office, and preoccupied with visions of Luke with Hannah absentmindedly I sashay inside. "Close the door," Jack booms, and I jump awakening from my catatonic state . But I don't react fast enough for him, he extends his hand above my head slamming it closed. "I said close the door."

I swallow. "Make it quick. Luke will be back shortly."

Bracing on the door, he hovers over me. "How thoughtful." Dropping his hand, he goads me with the sleazy smirk he's wearing. "The first opportunity since New York, we've had to be alone."

"Jack, the office isn't the place to rehash our conversation." I angle my shoulders, and he grabs me pinning me to the door. My eyes blink rapidly, as I regain my bearing.

"You'll leave when I say you can." He releases me. "Now that I have your attention. Let's get down to brass tacks." Flicking the flaps of my trench coat open, he roams my body with his lecherous eyes, but this time I swat his hands away.

"Don't touch me."

He sneers. "The Librarian get-up isn't working for me."

"You're treading on very thin ice. You're breaking all kinds of labor laws, by commenting on my appearance."

"Cute. You really think I care. Let's be clear, I don't give a fuck about labor laws, or your career development. I set my own rules."

"Then may I suggest you start your own company."

"With the money, I'll get from your boyfriend, maybe I will, and you and your sassy mouth will be my first hire "

"Why am I in here Jack? I didn't peg you for a fashion police."

"I'm going have so much fun fucking you."

"That's not part of the deal."

"Relax, if it weren't for my big payday, I'd have nothing to do with your skinny ass. You're a gangly pubescent girl. I prefer my women mature with fully developed bodies, and minds. Like, one Leila Williams." My chest tightens, but I muster some control, Jack is gauging my reaction. I simply stare at him. Too numb to be scared, I pretend to be present, as he prattles on about my conservative dress, and how he prefers me in the skimpy outfits, I wore in the Hamptons.

How, when, where, why- the open-ended questions bombarding my mind, I simply walk out of the office. Jacks menial cackling trailing me, I lose the façade of false confidence, and bolt from his door.

"Fuck."

My head zooms up, and Luke is rubbing his mouth. "Sorry."

"What the fuck?" he says, checking his fingers for blood.

"I said, I'm sorry."

He scours my face. "You're running from Hyde. What did he do to you?"

By the time, I catch his arm he's in mid-stride. "Nothing."

"Let me go, Ana. I'm going to take care of Hyde once and for all."

I cling to his arm. "Luke please- "

"Please what Ana." Casting a glance to his right then his left he drags me into a vacant conference room. "Speak," he says, slamming the door. My eyes wander looking everywhere but at him. "Have it your way."

I throw my body against the door. "Stop."

"He has something on you-"

"Duh. You."

"It's more than that. Since New York, I've become irrelevant in the equation, and I'm going to find out why."

I sag against the door. "Have it at. I don't have time for this. I'm here to work. First Jack, now you, and when I return to my desk, my inbox will be overrun with emails from Christian. I just want to do my job. Can everyone please let me?"

He grunts. "At least this time, I'm in good company. You're lumping your fiancé in with Hyde too."

"Luke please don't agitate Jack. You'll make things worse. You declared once you were here to protect my heart."

"I want to, but you won't tell me how." I open and close my mouth. "Ana, you can talk to me. I'm the one person you don't have to lie to." I flip forward. "We're in this shit together, for better or worse. You don't have to go through it alone." At first, the metal was cold to the touch, but it has grown white hot from my tight grip on the knob. "I used to be your most ardent confidante, but suddenly, I'm on the outside looking in. Just know I here for you. Whenever you're ready to talk." The sincere sentiment puncture my ears but doesn't prick my heart.

"There you are," Hannah says, when I stagger into the hallway. "Your tea is getting cold."

I step to the side. "Thanks, I'm coming," I utter, and at the exact moment Luke storms out of the room bumping my shoulder."

"I'm not even going to ask," Hannah says, whirling around, following him down the hall.

The remainder of the day is uneventful. Luke and I only conversed on an as needed basis. Jack who came on like a thunderclap, was noticeably quiet, and Hannah assessing my sour mood left me alone. I didn't mind, being frozen out, meant I could be circumspect, but I didn't like what I saw.

Christian helps me inside the back of the SUV lugging me to him. "You smell amazing," he says, nestling the tip of his nose in my hair.

"Same perfume I had on at lunch. Matter of fact, I haven't freshened it up since I spritz it on this morning."

He inclines against the door panel, and I skedaddle to my corner. "You're not on your period, so, I can't phantom why the stubborn mood. But I'd like a timeline, my patient isn't in endless supply."

"Ditto. How long is this going to go on? The lunch. You picking me up." I click my seatbelt in place. "Contrary, to your belief, I'm not teetering on the edge of a nervous breakdown, so, you don't have to babysit me."

"This isn't about you. It's about me. I can't get enough of you. When it comes to you, I'm like an addict, stealing for my next fix."


	58. Chapter 58

**Chapter 58: Devil Went Down to Georgia **

**Disclaimer:** FSOG belongs to EL James

_A/N: Thank you and enjoy_

_The Devil went down to Georgia_

_He was looking for a soul to steal_

_He was in a bind because he was way behind_

_He was willing to make deal_

_ Charlie Daniels Band_

* * *

The door eases back, and Christian's head bobs up. "Are you busy?"

"Never for you," he says, waving me inside. "Kate's gone already?" His chair rolls back from the desk, and he pats his lap.

"Yeah." Pouting, I crisscross the room.

He growls. "What did Katherine do, now."

"Nothing." Plopping down on his lap, I sag against his chest snuggling up in his arms. "Have you ever felt like your friend was drifting away from you?"

Caressing my arms, Christian angles his head. "You're asking the wrong guy. I've never had friends."

I sit upright. "Not true."

"Ana-sta-sia-"

"Christian."

"We're going to play this game, huh."

"It's up to you."

"Well, I'm bowing out. I want to talk about you. And what has you so, forlorn."

"Later." I rim the tip of his collar with my fingertips. "Time's running out, we need to get your groomsmen confirmed. Damien is 99% on board. You just need to reach out to Gideon."

Ducking, he swings my arm over his head. "I can't think when you're doing that."

"That's the goal."

"You're not going to drop this, are you?"

"Nope. How can I, our wedding is just 10 days away."

He smiles. "Elated, to see I'm not the only one counting down." Peering up at me, Christian traces circles on my thighs. "Tell you what, I'll have Andria call Cross's office in the morning."

"No." I slap him on the shoulder. "This isn't an I'll have my people call your people scenario, this is too important. It requires a personal touch not a business approach. You'll have to handle it yourself, this is one thing Andria can't do for you."

"I don't see, why not, I pay her enough."

"Christian, get serious."

His hand snakes under my skirt. "I am serious. About wanting you." I clamp down on the flouncy fabric, catching hold of his him at the apex of my crotch. "You win." Retracting his hand, he throws both up in surrender.

I shift in his lap. "You'll call Gideon."

"Yes. Now will you tell me what happened with Katherine?"

I glance up at the ceiling. "Dinner was supposed to close the growing chasm between us, but all it has done is widen the divide."

"I don't like Katherine, but you love her, and she you. What caused the schism in the first place? You two are practically connected at the hips-"

"Used to be. It's like out of sight out of mind." My head lolls to his shoulder. "I should've moved in with her-" His shoulder bucks, bumping my head upright.

"Did I hear you correctly? You'd rather live with your friend than me," he snaps.

"I'm sorry, when did this become about you?" I stab my fists into my sides. "I relay to you my fears of losing my best friend, and you want to harp on my mindless introspection. You're taking it out of context. It was innocuous Christian. It meant nothing. Means nothing. I'm here with you."

He empties me from his lap, lunging to his feet. "It wasn't meaningless to me. It meant something to me," he snarls, and I flinch at his unbalanced reaction to the harmless sentiment. "It is another reminder of the regret you harbor from moving in with me. Perhaps, even agreeing to marry me." He's quiet, the silence speaking louder than his bombastic words. His indignation is his insecurity talking.

Culpability befalling me, I reach up cupping the underside of his angular jawline. "Forgive me, for my insensitivity." Nostrils flaring, and breathing harshly like a bull, he swats my hand away seizing my wrist dragging me from behind the desk. "Where are, we going?" I say, teetering behind him in my high heels.

He glances over his shoulder at me. "My playroom," he barks, "you wanted me to show you what it's like. You're about to get your wish."

"Stop." I jerk my hand away from him. "Not like this."

"You don't get to choose where, and how I punish you."

"Punish me." I sigh. "Punish me for what. Something nonsensical."

The storm brewing in his gray eyes eviscerating me, tears well in mine. "I don't need a playroom. I can dish your punishment out right here." The welling tears streaming down my face, Christian commandeers my wrist twisting my arm behind my back propelling me into the wall. "I don't need a playroom.

Making me jealous, of your friend, that's not nice, Anastasia," he threatens, flattening his torso on me.

Gasping, I writhe beneath him trying to purchase some space between the wall, and my abdomen. "Christian, I can't breathe."

He presses his lips to my ears. "Until I say, otherwise you will refer to me as master or sir." He adjusts his weight, and I angle my head outward molding a saturated cheek into the grains of the wood.

I take a cleansing breath. "You're hurting me." I'd intentionally excluded a name, refusing to address him by either of the authoritative monikers he'd thrown out at me.

"Pain. You know what they say. It's just one side of a coin." Releasing my arm, he collapses down on my body thrusting me flush with the wall. "Suffice to say, you have to get past me to experience the pleasure waiting for you on the other side. So, should I put you on your knees? Make you suck my dick until I tell you to stop, and not when you make me come in your mouth. Over. And over. And over…" His hand darts betwixt my thighs a finger puncturing a hole in my lace thong penetrating my sex.

"Uh." My moan is a mixture sob, from the shock more than any sensory sensation.

"You're too wet." Sticking his tongue in my ear, he crooks the finger inside me. "It wouldn't be punishment if I fed your greedy desires. Instead it would be a reward, for your bad behavior. I don't want to send mix messages. So, I think I'll toss you across my desk. Spank your alabaster ass, watch the pale color suffuse with a delightful shade of red, then fuck you for my pleasure not yours." Christian grunts. "Fuck your walls just tighten around my finger. You liked that too. You insatiable-" Abruptly, he withdraws the digit ramming it into my other hole.

"Argh!" I cry out bucking from the assault.

"This isn't pain," he says, as I gnaw on my bottom lip managing the excruciating pain, as he twists his finger stretching the puckered hole. "Wait until I fuck your ass sans lubricant right here. Against this wall." He pulls out his finger. My cheeks unclench, and just as I relax some, he grabs a fistful of hair yanking my head back touching his lips to my ear. "Ready to be my whore-" I have an outer body experience, and, I stammer forward my open fist connecting with the side of his face. "Anastasia. Anastasia. Anastasia," he calls out, as I storm past him dashing out of his office.

My name echoing in the distance, I flee to the bedroom. My sobs wracking my body, I fall on the bed and crawl into a ball. "Don't come near me."

"I'm sorry."

The remorseful tone in his voice travels across the room ringing hollow in my ear. "No, you're not. You were enjoying it too much," I say, in a garbled voice.

"How can you say, that."

I flip to my front. Wiping the snot seeping inside my mouth away with the back of my hand, I stare out at him slouched against the doorframe. "The massive tent in your pants. My proof. You were getting off on the whole thing."

"It's not what you think- "

"It's exactly what I think." I sniffle. "And you know what's sad. As disturbing as that is, it wasn't the worst thing you did. Calling me out of my name takes that honor." I sniffle. "How could you... knowing the stigma the derogatory expletive carries for me. I'm still raw from your earlier usage of it to excoriate me."

"Can I come in."

I sniffle. "It's your home."

"Our home, but I will not come in without your expressed consent."

"For God sake Christian come in."

He hangs back at the foot of the bed. "Okay if I sit?" I scoot to the side, and gradually, he lowers himself, monitoring my reaction as if I'm a caged animal ready to pounce at any moment. "I wasn't calling you that word- "

"The context doesn't matter Christian. It matters that you used it- at all." His hand slides across the bed. "Do not touch me."

"Trying to wound me."

"If thought it would hurt you in the same way you've hurt me. Yes."

"As much as, it kills me, I'll suffer your wrath, at least I know it will be short-lived. You'll come around."

A sarcastic giggle bubbles up. "You're one cocky, a-hole"

"No, far from it. It's not cockiness. I made an optimistic calculation." There's a measured pause. "I chose the untimely event to demonstrate for you what it is you were asking of me with the calculus that no matter how angry you got at me eventually you'd forgive me-"

"I know you believe the words coming out of your mouth." I sniffle. "That episode wasn't for me. For my benefit. I have a brain you know. That wasn't you being selfless. Quite the opposite. It was you being selfish. You wanted to punish me. You said so."

"At first. Yes. I genuinely wanted too, but I seized upon the opportunity to use it a teachable moment if you will. "

"Interesting word choices. Is this you minimizing your actions, in the same way you sanitize your dungeon by calling it a playroom. Just checking." I smirk. "Want to make sure I'm following your logic."

"I deserve that."

"Let's not get into what you deserve." His head droops from the heaviness of his shame and pops back up.

"Who I am as a Dominant isn't the man I want in our marriage. You can chalk it up to an exercise in futility, but I didn't do it without some forethought. With a high degree of certainty, I can assure you if we'd participated in a session in my playroom, you'd never forgiven me. Our rough play in the bedroom, is no comparison to the control freak I'm in the playroom. I go deep within myself- it isn't for the faint of heart."

I tuck some hair behind my ear. "I do not condone what you did. You were mean spirited, cruel, demeaning, the list is endless. But the show you just put on for me in your office, isn't who you are as a Dominant. I'm savvier than you think. Leila, and your other Subs wouldn't have so, easily fallen in love with you if you were a salvage."

"Those women's feelings for me were superficial. They had their own agenda, I was immaterial. They didn't see me. They saw my face. Money. And power. You see the totality of who I am."

"I'm trying too, but you won't let me all the way in." I kick my shoes off. "You once said, your subs required the harsh punishment, you doled out because they had a reservoir in their souls only pain could fill. The way I see it, the brutality of the emotional hardship you've inflicted on me rivals the lashes you've given to them. We share a commonality, like me they kept coming back for more. I have a similar reservoir that can only be filled with the pain that comes with loving you."

Christian tumbles backward, the back of his head landing in my lap. "You deserve so, much better than me. A white picket fence, surrounding a ranch house on a tree-lined street. A man who grew up in a stable family, with mom, dad, and maybe a dog- someone who doesn't come with the baggage I do."

I feather his hair from his forehead. "I don't disagree, but my heart knows what it wants." He rolls to his side, and we lock eyes. "I want to repeat what you did was stupid on so, many levels, but mainly it was hurtful. You'd intentionally hurt me to make a point. That's not okay, but I accept my role in it. In a roundabout way, I drove you to it. So, to prevent a reoccurrence, I will communicate better. BDSM- I want the kink." He lurches upright. "Virtuousness has its limitations- sometimes I want to the naughty that makes you come back for more.

"Oh, Miss Steele, you are my little minx." He sighs. "I can do that. I'll bring the playroom into our bedroom. And if you're still interested in the lifestyle when you turn 21, I will take you into the playroom."

"Yeah. About the playroom, you don't have to call it that for my benefit."

"Sorry to disappoint you. It's so not about you. I chose the name, because I felt I was too high and mighty to have a dungeon."

"Then let's change it. Together we'll choose a name. It'll give me more of a connection- it'll be our room."

"Okay. What would you like?"

"Red Room of Pain."

He chuckles. "Red Room of Pain," he repeats. "Red Room it is, long as we leave off the pain."

"I'm cool."

"Good. Can I touch you."

"You were just lying on me."

"I want to hold you." I open my arms, and he pulls me into an embrace. "Christian you're fooling yourself. Your personality skews toward domineering. You're a Dominant. You can't pick and choose when you want to be," I whisper in his ears.

"Save by the bell," he says releasing me. "I need to get this."

"Okay. Just know we're not done with this topic." I whisper.

"I agree, you have your facts intertwined." The phone glued to his ear, Christian disappears into the hallway,

Suddenly, exhaustion consumes me, and I sink down to the mattress. Then I stir, a stream of light hitting me in the face. "Christian?" Leaning back on my elbows, I squint for more clarity.

"Yes."

"What are you doing all the way over there."

"Watching you sleep."

"I was sleeping." I check under the covers. "I'm naked," I say groggily. "You did this?"

"Yes."

"I can't believe I didn't move, because I was waiting for you."

Traversing the room, he offers me his hand. "Shower with me?"

Coquettishly, I toss my head to the side. "Why do I get the feeling there won't be any bathing involved."

A corner of his mouth lifts. "Trust your instincts," he says, and I slap my hand in his proffered hand.

* * *

**The Following Monday**

Angling my body from side to side I study my profile in the full-length mirror. "What are you doing?"

I train my eyes on the doorway of the walk-in closet. "Making sure I'll be able to fit in my dress. The final fitting is soon."

"Who am I to challenge your genius, but isn't the idea behind a fitting to make adjustments if needed?"

I peek over my shoulder. "I can do without your rational thinking," I say, eyeballing my rear.

Christian stands in front of me, blocking my view. "If you're searching, there is a place, I've noticed a sizable change."

"Christian," I shriek, my arms flying up protecting my vulnerable breasts. "I may think of myself as a cow, but I'm not one. So, you can't tweak my nipples, like they're udders."

He chuckles. "You wanted my honest opinion-"

"No I didn't. I didn't ask."

"Surely, you've noticed the fullness in your breasts. They're heavier than at any point in our relationship." He cocks his brows. "I'm not complaining. I'm very happy. If it's the consequences, of your robust diet. I bow down to Dr. Green," he says, gawking at my chest.

"You're making me uncomfortable."

"I'm leaving." He gives me a chaste kiss on the forehead, and slides his jacket off the valet. "I'll miss riding to work with you. But I'll see you for lunch?"

"For sure."

Christian's stroll out of the closet, and I appraise my weighty, and tender breasts one final time. Pulling myself away from the mirror, I flip through the designer hangers searching through my expansive wardrobe for an appropriate outfit for work. Jack is making it more, and more uncomfortable for me at SIP. The way he undresses me with his eyes causes me the most discomfort. And as much as I detest his meddling, I'm grateful for Luke's constant presence. He keeps Jack at a healthy distance from me.

"Hey."

I peek up, and Hannah is hanging on the wall of my cubicle, looking like a bashful schoolgirl.

"Hey."

She waves her invitation in front of me. "Thank you," she whispers

"You're welcome. Why do you look and sound so, surprise?"

"I don't know. It's the social event of the year. You'd just met me."

"Yet, I feel like I've known you forever." I incline in my chair. "Wonder if Elizabeth got hers?"

"You invited Lizzy."

"She's my boss. Out of courtesy."

"Look at you schmoozing," Hannah teases, flapping her invitation in the air.

"It only works if she returns to work."

Hanna swings around the partition propping her butt on the edge of my desk. "Lord helps us all," she murmurs.

Giggling, I touch her on the leg. "Walk with me to the kitchen." Nodding in the direction, I rise. "I could use a cookie."

"A cookie. Really Ana. All you do is complain about your weight."

"Don't judge me," I say, flattening the front of my skirt. "I want a cookie, and I know a for fact Diane just put a fresh batch in the cookie jar."

"I'm not judging you. I'm concerned about how I will look."

"I drape my arms over her shoulder. "One cookie won't hurt."

"That's what they all say." One by one she peels my arms away. "Sorry, you're on your own. Besides, I'm taking an early lunch so, I need to get back to my desk."

"Darn. It is about that time." I shrug my shoulders. "Oh well."

Hannah chortles. "Don't do it." Waving her off, I traipse to the kitchen, and wheel around soon as my feet touch down inside. The stink of Jack's cheap cologne infiltrates the common area before he darkens the threshold.

"Where are, you running to?" Jack barks, his arm blocking me. "A fire?

"My desk." Stepping forward, I respond to his rhetorical question, with a succinct answer which inflames him.

Incensed Jack moves his arm up and down the doorframe every time I move. "Why? The fun is just beginning." I crane my neck, and he lets loose a demonic grin. "Who are you looking for- the mall cop. You know he's really been cramping my style lately."

"Jack. This is a public space. Please step aside."

"Since you asked so, nicely." He feigns removing his arm. "Not." His legs planted wide, he stands resolute in his position inside the doorway. "I warned you not to fuck with me. Yet you and your boy toy are trying my patience with your futile antics."

"What are you talking about?"

"He sniffs around you like a dog in heat."

"Luke follows me because it is his job."

"Where's he now." Fixating on the faded black sleeve, I make up my mind to duck, but reading my intentions Jack latches onto my wrist.

"When will you learn, you'll never outsmart me." He clamps down, leaving me to ponder where's the normal parade of people in and out of the kitchen. "I'd be negligent if I didn't compliment you on your outfit," Jack says, zeroing in on my clavicle exposed by the two unbutton buttons at my neck, dismissing the very demure skirt covering my bottom half.

"Jack, any second now, we're going to be-"

"Interrupted. I doubt it." Smirking, he rubs the pad of this thumb over my ring. "Here's my 6 million dollars."

"Jack. This isn't the place. You keep talking, and everyone will find out you're blackmailing me."

"Such a harsh word, and an inadequate description of the nature of our business. A mutual-agreement is a better assessment." I try to wiggle my arm, and he increases the pressure. "I have to admit, for a mousy bitch you're proving to be more unflappable than I'd given you credit. For example, not one question about Leila Williams."

"Jack," I say, squirming.

He smirks. "Lucky for you I like a challenge. Keeps things interesting. Your spiciness adds to your allure. But it will only get you so far." He shoves my hand down on his growing bulge, holding it in place. "This is waiting for you soon as I get my money."

I dig my heel in the tip of his loafer. Instinctively, his vice grip on my wrist weakens, and I free myself. "Pervert." I escape down the hall, as fast as, my feet will carry me without sprinting. I count down the weeks, the days, the hours, the seconds until the self-induced madness comes to an end.

"Sorry Ana," my colleague apologizes, when I collide with him. Fearing bursting into tears, I keep my head bowed waving a hand at the well-mannered middle-aged man, acknowledging his courteousness for my carelessness.

Pulling up at the end of the hallway, I peek around the half wall checking for the presence of Hannah or Luke. I didn't have a plausible excuse for my state of being that excluded Jack so, I wanted to avoid them at all cost. The coast clear, I crisscross the foyer, dash down the hall yanking the door to the women's restroom back. Safely behind the stock white door, I bend my head inspecting the stalls for feet. Establishing that I'm alone, I lock the door. The weight of the indignity crashing down on me, I sag against it.

Water leaking from eyes, I stammer to one of three small sinks in the poorly lit space. Violently, I pump the plastic soap dispenser loading my palm with bargain basement anti-bacterial cleansing gel. The sterile scent of artificial citrus filling the air, the orange goop seeps down my wrist, and feverishly, I wash my hands in the piping hot water as meticulously as a surgeon.

In the chaos of my frenetic thinking, a sad vision comes to view in the unflattering light of the mirror. Scrubbing a soapy hand over the surface of the glass, I desperately aim to erase the visage. I didn't want a connection to the girl, she'd muddled a situation that was messy, but controllable. Her questionable judgment has put her under the control of a nefarious puppeteer who feeds his evil by pulling her strings.

A pounding on the door disturbs the bleak picture my mind is conjecturing. "Ana. Are you in there?" The running water can't drown out the desperation in Luke's voice.

Splashing hot water on my face, I shock my sensitive skin with the temperature, and my eyes with the suds. Rinsing my hands thoroughly, I yell, "coming," turning off the water.

The door rattles against the frame. "Why's the door locked?"

"Just a minute Luke." Detaching paper towel from the metal dispenser, I rub the rough texture over my face. Fluff my hair, and plaster on a fake fresh- faced Ana smile.

Unlocking the door, I pull it back. "It's about time." Hauling me from inside the doorway, Luke pokes his head in the restroom. "Are you alright," he says, performing a quick visual check.

"Hmm." I nod.

He inspects my face. "Just what I thought, the fumes got to you too."

"Huh-"

He studies me like I'm an alien life form. "The fumes," he repeats. "It affected me too. Like you, my eyes are red. My skin is puffy. Blotchy-" He grabs my hand.

Stumbling, I try to keep pace with him. "Where are, we going?"

"Getting you out of here." My head swimming with the bits and pieces he's shared with me, I desperately try to understand his hysteria.

At the end of the hall, I spot Hannah, and she steps in front of us. "What's up, you two look like there's a fire," she says.

"Hannah, I thought you were at lunch," I say.

"No, I was outside taking a personal call."

Luke release my arm. "Ladies can we do this later," he snarls.

Hannah casts a disconcerting Look at him. "What's going on Luke, you're scaring me."

"Don't be scared. I detected a chemical agent in the building. Until it's isolated, and dealt with, no one's safe-"

"Thank you, I'm not worried now," Hannah says, deadpan. "I'm terrified. Sounds like terrorism-"

"Terrorism?" Jack's eyes are squarely on Luke, but he's looking directly at me making me uneasy. I'd felt his presence, but I was too shaken to warn Hannah, and Luke. "Did I hear something about terrorism? I disappear for a few minutes, and we're being attacked by terrorists." Jack swivels his head from side to side. "Where are the bastards, there are a few people I'd like to have beheaded."

The consummate professional, Luke dismisses the distasteful cavalier, comment, concentrating on the issue at hand. He outlines for Jack his findings and proposed plan of action. Jack pushes back classifying his evidence as anecdotal when Luke isolates the problem to the other side of the building near his office. At the same time, he stops short of a complete dismal when Luke recounts the intense burning sensation his exposed skin, and eyes had experienced. To my abject surprise, Jack displayed genuine concern, but the hint of civility dissipates when Luke intimates, I was impacted too.

"So, far you've only identified you, and your clients as being affected. I don't see how that rises to the level of a complete shutdown-"

"That's where my professional expertise benefits you and me. Moving quickly before anyone else under your leadership is harmed would be the sign of a good leader. Wouldn't you prefer your employees view you as proactive than reactive."

Jack pivots to Hannah. "You heard the man. Alert everyone, they can go home, and while you're at call maintenance."

"Don't worry about maintenance, the hazmat team from Grey Enterprises will handle the cleanup," Luke says.

"Of course, after all, we have Christian Grey's prize possession onsite. Hate anything to happen to the bride that would cause a delay in the wedding of the century. Wouldn't want that, right, Mr. Sawyer."

His clenched jaw indicates he's contemplating reacting, instead Luke places his hand on my lower back. "I'll get your things when I come back let's get you out of here," he says. "Jack. The team is already in route, I will be back once I've delivered Ana to her destination."

"Aye, Aye captain." His fingers digging into my clothes, Luke escorts me out the door, muttering, "dick," in earshot of Jack. The passive aggressive move was Luke sending Jack a message in case he'd mistaken his humility for weakness.

We reach the underground garage at Grey House. Mr. Taylor greets the car, sanctioning the emergency protocol and he and Luke whisk me inside the building. We take the service elevator to Christian's floor, where Andria is standing guard at the door to his office.

She opens the door, and I fall into Christian's waiting arms. "I got you." Stroking the back of my hair, he repeats the reassuring words over, and over. "You're safe."

"I know," I murmur, into his suit jacket.

"Someone wants to give me a fucking update," Christian snarls.

"The hazmat team is almost there, Luke and I are leaving now to join them," Mr. Taylor says.

"Go. And Taylor, I want the report right away."

"Yes, sir Mr. Grey."

Luke and Mr. Taylor exits, and Christian thrusts my shoulders back. "Are you sure you're alright," he slides his hands up and down my arms. "I can get Dr. Green or my mother here stat."

"I'm with you. That's all I need."

He heaves a handful of my hair over my shoulder to my back. "Music to my ears, but I'm not a doctor."

I cock my head to the side. "I strongly disagree... You're Dr. Good Body to me, that has to count for something." I tug on his tie.

He can't suppress his winsome smile. "Your quick wit is intact. I'd say you're fine." He tilts his head to the side. "But your eyes are swollen."

"That's the ticket Grey, insult your fiancé. Where's that Christian Grey charm when you need it," I say, doing my darnedest to deflect from the truth- at the least version of the truth I'm familiar with."

He caresses my jawline, cupping my chin in his fingers staring longingly into my eyes. "You are the most beautiful creature I've ever seen," he says, his expression slowly morphing into something else- concern."

"Christian. I'm fine."

"Are you sure. Per Luke-"

Per Luke, you'd think I was disfigured. It wasn't that bad, even Luke who got the brunt of it isn't any worse for wears."

"I'll trust you, but if there are any symptoms. The slightest, you will tell me." I nod emphatically. "Hungry?" he says, leading me to his desk.

"Don't be mad. But no. Not just yet."

Christian sits on his throne, hauls me down to his lap, and I curl up like a wounded child as he murmurs, "I love you," while he strokes my hair. "I'd die if anything had happened to you. So, no I'm not mad."

I peer up at him through my lashes. "I'm right here. Nothing happened to me. And I love you too," I whisper as Andria buzzes in.

Christian groans. "Yes, Andria." He's not pleased with her intrusion into our heartwarming moment.

"Mr. Grey, the package you were expecting has arrived."

"Yes," he exclaims, and just like that she's back on her boss's favorable side. "You can bring it in."

Andria strolls in, gracefully hands Christian the vanilla envelope without flinching a muscle at the sight of me in the precarious position on her boss's lap. I'm impressed with her professionalism, at the same time, I'm well-aware, that discretion is required when working for Christian. "Thank you, Andria. Please postpone lunch, and clear my calendar- "

"Done. And everything has been rescheduled. I've also spoken with the chef, he's just waiting to hear back from me with a new time.

"So, efficient," I mumble to myself as she demonstrates her exceptionalism in taking the initiative.

Glancing down at me, Christian dismisses his irritatingly perfect assistant. "I agree she's efficient indeed-"

"You heard me."

He chuckles. "I did. Then again, I was reading your lips," he says, nudging me upright, slipping the vanilla envelope under my nose. "Here."

"What is it?"

"Open it. I'd planned a more elaborate presentation, but I'm an in the moment kind of guy, and the moment is calling for something positive. You've had a rough morning, this should brighten the rest of your day."

Eyeing him warily, I lift the flap sliding out the thick stack of papers perusing the cover page. The legalese is mumble-jumble to me. "Chris-tian what is this?"

He extracts, the document from my hands. "Congratulations. You're now the owner and CEO of a publishing company," he proudly, announces.

"I'm right. You purchased SIP." I gulp. "For me..." He nods. "That's insane. Who even does that?" Squealing, I leap to my feet.

"A man who loves his woman."

"Okay. Buy me candy. Flowers. An impractical piece of expensive jewelry. But a company!"

"If I were a poor, and made a similar gesture equal to my meager means you'd fall at my feet thanking me. Because I'm wealthy you want to deprive me of the same adulation." Setting the papers down on his desk, Christian rises, buttoning the single button on his blazer. "When you make as much money as I do in 15 minutes, how you spend it becomes irrelevant. Purchase a valuable piece of jewelry" He shrugs. "Or a small publishing house. It's all the same to me, I just happen to know you'd enjoy the publishing house more."

"I'm not punishing you, and I am grateful. But Christian, I don't know how to run a company." I motion with my hands. " I haven't finished my education. I'm just starting out in my career. Who am I kidding." This time I gesture with my whole body. "Technically I don't have a career because I don't have a job. I'm an intern for God sake."

"You don't need a Ph.D. to run a company. Look no further than me. I started Grey Enterprise when I was about your age, with only one year of college under my belt. You have two degrees, and working on a third. You are more than prepared for this," he says, "you're ready for it."

"I appreciate your confidence in me, but that is a false equivalence. This is dumb luck, you have an instinct for business. Your gut is far wiser than any business theory written about in books. I have book smarts, that is so, far removed from natural intellect."

"You're right, I take pride in my instincts, and it is my gut telling me you're the best woman for the job-"

"Okay. Tell the truth. If I were some stranger off the street and not your fiancé, and you read my resume would you make the same business decision."

"No," he says, right away. "I wouldn't buy a stranger a company." I glower at him. "But I would recognize his or her talent, and put them on the fast track for an immediate leadership role in one of my companies."

I sigh. "Christian you read what the tabloids and the mainstream press write about me. I'm a joke to them. People don't take me serious as it is. You think buying me a company, and installing me as CEO is going to change minds. I am touched, but I want the title because of my merits, not have it bestowed on me because I'm the soon to be Mrs. Christian Grey."

"Anastasia, just because I put my dick inside you every morning, every night and sometimes at lunch doesn't mean I'm confused. The line isn't blurred, it is more defined than ever. To my relief, I didn't lose my business acumen, because I fell in love with you. Loving you has sharpened my mind because my work isn't the center of my world you are- "

"Aha. Christian."

"Let me finish. And I don't give a fuck what people are saying. I don't give a fuck what those assholes are writing. I could buy every media outlet out there, and one by one destroy them for my amusement. But I choose to put my energy in you. Your dreams. And before you say it, or think it, this isn't my vision for you. It is your vision I'm merely the conduit to bring it to fruition."

I throw my arm around his waist. "Thank you. I hate to sound ungrateful."

He wraps his arm around me, and we sway. "You're not ungrateful, you have every right to be dubious." The remorse in his voice is so, palpable, I'm regretful for my ambivalence. "But let's be clear," he continues, "if I wanted to spend my money frivolously on a hobby for you, I'd buy the Library of Congress." Grinning at the hyperbole, I gaze up at him, but his expression is deadly serious. "But I wanted you to be happy. And work makes you happy. So, I thought you'd be happier working for yourself. Give me some credit, and while you're at give yourself some." Removing my arm, he takes my hand in his. "Dance with me," he says, framing my awkward body into pitch perfect posture.

"There's no music."

He flashes me his patent Christian Grey smile. "C' mon Miss Steele, live on the edge." Giggling, I rest my other hand on his shoulder.

Musicality running though his veins, Christian elegantly, adjusts his body, turning us, and we start floating across the floor as if we're being accompanied by a world-class orchestra playing the most romantic piece of sheet music ever composed. "Until the right infrastructure is in place, I'm lending you Ros. She will helm the ship, until you are ready to steer it."

I tilt back a smidge. "What about the staff? I don't want people losing their livelihood because of me."

"Don't be worried," he says, dipping me in front of a bank of windows. "SIP was failing. If I hadn't purchased it, everyone would be out of a job a by the end of the year." Bringing me upright, Christian smoothly transitions into humming the first bars of _Come away with me_ by Nora Jones. Surrendering to the harmonious serenade, I lay my head on his chest, and _come away with_ him to an angelic place where it's just the two of us, aromatic flowers, and birds chirping.

We glide across his office floor like it's our private ballroom. "Mr. Grey," Andria's voice cracks through the phone's intercom cutting through Christian's melody but not curbing his commitment to the song. "Mr. Grey." Her tone is more urgent with each call of his name.

Lifting my heading, I rear back. "Do you need to get that," I say, softly.

He increases the pressure on my spine, leading me closer to his desk. We twirl in place, grazing the corner of the desk. The phone crashes to the floor silencing Andria, and I reclaim my position pressed against his chest shedding the stress of day as we continue to circumnavigate his office.

The crooning ends. "See. You don't need music to dance."

Drawing my hand from his, I creep back. "I agree." I unbutton his jacket. "Thank you," I murmur, smoothing my hand up his chest, underneath the jacket easing it off his shoulder.

"You're welcome," Christian mouths shrugging the jacket the rest of the way to the floor.

I fidget with the knot on his tie, and get distracted by his throat. Standing on my tiptoes, I suck on the patch of skin covering his Adam's apple. Groaning, a throaty groan, Christian extends his neck to the side giving me more terrain with which to work.

Suddenly, I stop, and drop to my knees. His breath hitches. I unzip his trousers, plunging my hand inside the slit of his designer briefs unleashing his stiffening member, garnering a full-throated moan from him. Fisting his erection in my hand, I peer up at him, his head lobs back in anticipation of what I'm going to do to him next.

Reveling in power I have over him, I touch his tip to my tongue tasting the bead of pre-cum. "Damn." I squeeze his shaft from the tip to the base appreciating every rock hard square inch. Balancing my desires with the healthy respect I have for his size I guide the thick member into my mouth. "Fuck," Christian yells out.

"Mr. Grey," Luke calls, pounding the door.

Christian palms the top of my head, when I still. "do not move that sensual mouth- "

"Sir, is everything alright." I close my eyes, wishing for an undetected sinkhole at Grey House to swallow me up. Christian's erection pulsating in my mouth, and Luke on the other side of door concerned is a surreal development.

"Yes-"

"Mr. Grey," Mr. Taylor intervenes, "sorry, sir Andria isn't at her desk. We'll take the report to my office."

"Thank you, Jason. You and Luke can meet me back here in about 30 minutes," Christian says, lifting his hand. "You heard." His erection ensconced in my mouth, I cock my eyes up at him. He's drumming his index finger in the face of his Patek Philippe watch. "Time's ticking." Dropping my gaze, I come up on knees, and suck him to the back of my throat.

His body jerks. "Fuuuck." He grunts, pumping my mouth full of his seed. The salty, viscose liquid coats the lining of my throat. Swallowing the last rope of cum dripping from his tip, I release his almost flaccid member from my mouth.

Sitting back on my haunches, I draw the back of hand across my lips. "Fast enough for you Mr. Grey."

Seizing me by the shoulders, he lifts me to my feet prying my lips open, sticking his tongue through the seam. He grabs my head, his thumbs caressing the side of my face, as his tongue slithers over mine. "Do you like the way you taste?"

"When I'm kissing you, all I taste is you," I murmur against his lips.

Extracting his tongue, Christian grips my waist and literally hoists me out of my shoes plopping me down on the top of his desk. The pages of the contract flutter to the floor next to the phone. He swipes his arm over the surface of the desk clearing the other items out of the way. "This is going to be quick." Standing upright, Christian swiftly undoes the knots, dragging the necktie through his shirt collar.

Raking his eyes over me, lightening quick he partially disrobes, and then he taps my upper shoulder nudging me backward. Hiking the hem of my calf-length skirt to my waist, Christian shoves my thong to the side, sliding the tip of his fully erect cock up and down my fold brushing my clitoris. He then pins my knees up to my ears, ramming his member inside of me jolting my body. I cry out, as he bares down on me driving the worries of the day someplace they can't touch us.

"Aha," I mewl, as Christian puts his back into pounding me marrying the perfect union of pain and pleasure.

I dig my fingers into his back, as he thrusts in, and, out of me. My walls constrict around him, his body shudders, spewing his cum into me. "Fuck!" Christian grunts, while I lie motionless waiting for him to free my legs. "Damn, you're good baby. I'm a lucky man." He lets go, and as he slumps down on top of me, my legs unfurl.

Soon as he buries his face in the crook of my neck, the knock on the door shocks us back into reality. "Mr. Grey," Mr. Taylor calls, more cautiously than Luke.

"Why do they have to be so, fucking efficient?" He mumbles.

Giggling, I cradle his head. "You're to blame Mr. Grey."

"One minute Taylor," Christian shouts. Rising, his flaccid erection slips out if ne, flooding the desk with his arousal.

Hurriedly, I sit up on my elbow. "Do you have any wipes. I'm sitting in a mess here." Hustling around the desk, he roots inside a drawer handing me- wipes. "Wouldn't happen to have clean panties in there, would you?" I say, cleaning my thighs, as I slide down the desk.

"Panties. Why would I?"

I shrug my shoulders. "You're Mr. prepared, and not to mention a Dominant. I thought it was something you did."

"Stockpiling panties in my desk drawer. You've got jokes today." Sidling up next to me, Christian slides his feet into his shoes. "Perhaps, if I was in a Dominant Submissive relationship-"

Tugging on the hem of my skirt, dismissively I tell him, "Never mind." I shimmy the skirt over my hips down my legs. "I'm not going down that rabbit hole."

He swats me on the butt. "Go pantiles. I plan on finger fucking you on the drive home anyway"

"I can't discern if you're saying that for the shock value, or if you're truly that insatiable."

"The latter. It's why I'm marrying a much younger woman," I chortle. Light-hearted Luke is fun, but a playful Christian is next level goodness.

Embarrassed his cleaning service would discover the cum soiled panties, I disguise the gossamer triangle in sheets of disposable hand towels then I'm hit with a sense of entitlement. Guilt swarms me over my frivolity. So, sending up three Hail Marys' to the Victoria Secret Gods, I hurl the wad into the trash before I have a change of heart, and I clean myself up.

Leaving the sanctity of bathroom for the unknown on the other side of the corridor, I pace myself. The closer I get the scant whiff of arousal in the air, taunts my nostril. I break at the perimeter of the room surveying the landscape. The hypothetical smell of sex goes from imaginary to real with the markers dotting his office. Christian's necktie is strewn on the floor, next to his blazer, my shoes, just my luck, are directly at Luke's feet, but the most telling clue of them all, is Christian's disheveled appearance.

Mystified at Christian's carelessness, I study the three men huddled together in a semi-circle. The bite of self-reproach bitter on my tongue, my chest tightens from the nagging truth. Luke's presence, is creating the disconcerting dynamic in the sex-infused room. It's the only explanation that makes sense. As unlikely as it sounds, I'm growing more accepting of Mr. Taylor's always looming presence in our sexual escapades.

"Baby." Christian draws my attention in time to see the trio pivot in unison. "You. Okay."

His inquiry, doesn't stop me from fanning my warming cheeks. "Mm." I sigh, just a little stuffy."

The three men gawk at me like I'm a middle-aged woman suffering through my own private summer. "Strange. I modulate the temperature in my office to 65 degree which is normally on the cool side for you. Are you sure this isn't a side effect- "

"God no Christian." To quell Christian's concerns, I relinquish the safety of distance. Luke's cloudy blue eyes brightening to their true crystal-clear color, threatens to derail me until his smirk blindsides me. Threading my hand, in his, I mutter, "I'm fine", thankful Luke's gracelessness emerged in time to high jacked the fleeting moment.

"Are you sure?" Christian bends, touching his mouth to my ear. "Do you need to return to the bathroom."

Inconspicuously, I clench my thighs together. "No."

Untangling his hand, he drapes an arm over my shoulders. "Alright let's get back to this shit." He picks up a single piece of paper from his desk. "I can't believe the investigators didn't find anything."

"Neither can I, I know what I felt."

"I don't doubt you Luke." Dropping his arm, Christian hooks me around the waist hugging me to his side. "It affected Anastasia too," he says, placing the one-page report back on his desk. "Luke, keep your eyes peeled. This wreaks of Jack Hyde."

"Yes, sir," Luke says, training his eyes on me.

"Taylor. Have Ryan update you every hour. When Hyde takes a shit, I want to know what sewer it goes into."

"Yes. Sir," Mr. Grey, " I have a call out to him."

"Switching gears. Luke, Taylor is aware so, I want to inform you. Grey Enterprises has acquired Seattle Independent Publishing, and Anastasia will be the newest CEO. I hope you understand why I had to keep this information close to the vest." Luke nods to Christian, and congratulates me.

"Yes. Congratulations, Miss Steele," Mr. Taylor says.

"Thank you both. But not so fast. I have a lot of learning to do before I can take the helm."

"Oh. Yes. Ros will be the interim CEO, until Anastasia is up to speed on the inner-workings of the organization."

Shaking my hand, Mr. Taylor pulls me in. "You're going to do a fabulous job," he whispers in my ear. Christian clears his throat, and Mr. Taylor gives me a playful wink goading his boss.

"I think we're all done her. Regardless of the outcome today, Jack Hyde will be out at SIP very soon." Christian relocates me to his other side. "You gentlemen are excused. I need to feed my fiancé."

I wait for the door to close. "Christian, did you buy SIP to get rid of Jack?"

His eyes fixed on me, he opens his mouth, closes it and stretches across the desk pressing the intercom button on the phone. "Andrea bring in our lunch."

"Yes, Mr. Grey."

"You didn't answer my question," I say tersely, hoping the attitude will prompt him to respond to me. "Have it your way." I pivot forward, and he grabs my arm

"Where are, you going?"

"Suddenly, I'm not hungry. Imagine that." I match the intensity of his stare. "Not to mention, I feel too exposed without panties."

He lets go. "I'd suggest you get used to it. It will be an everyday occurrence."

* * *

**The Next Day**

"Two's a company, three's a party. Have fun on your own time unless I'm invited," Jack says.

"No Jack-"

"What, I'm not invited."

"It's not a party," Luke clarifies.

"Good thing. Mr. Sawyer, you're not on the clock, but these two ladies are. So, I need them to get back to work."

"Sure. Jack," I say, waiting for him to turn the corner. "Go, before he comes back."

Luke stares at me. "No, not a good idea Ana. Not after that episode."

I motion to Hannah. "Yeah. Luke. I can really….um use another coffee."

"Hannah, Banana you're such a bad liar," he slaps her desk. "Watch your girl for me, I'll be right back."

Luke jumps behind the wheel, and I take off. "Hey where are you going. You'll get me in trouble," Hannah calls.

I glance back. "I'll be right back," I shout, hauling it to Jack's office barging inside. "What did you do?"

"Tsk, tsk, Cinderella is upset." He rolls back in his chair away from his desk. "Or what is it, the media is calling you." He stands. "Barbie." My confidence buoyed, by my clandestine role, I feel like a worthy adversary so, the ridicule rolls off back.

"You're escalating Jack. This isn't what we agreed to. The groping. And I know you were the mastermind behind yesterday. I don't know how you did it. But I know why you did it." I walk to his desk. "Someone's going to get hurt."

"I agree." He circles his desk. "It's not me, I guess that leaves you." He gloats. "You thought we had a gentleman's agreement, but you made a deal with the devil. It's binding but not binary. If I recall you're a connoisseur of music. Like Country?"

"What does my musical taste have to do with anything?"

"I'll take that as a no. Well, I'd highly recommend you listen to The Charlie Daniel's Band, _The Devil Went Down to Georgia. _He had a soul steal, the lyric goes." Brimming with arrogance, Jack flicks lose strands of my hair from my face. "You're a challenge, but you have too much lost. That made it easy. Too easy. I didn't have to steal your soul you gave it to me."

The corners of my mouth curling up, I two-step through the crack his cockiness has exposed. "Awe. Apparently, you've never listened to the song in its entirety Jack." I pat him on the shoulder. "Johnny won the." His smug facial expression falling, I open the door and prance out of his office on a high. For the first-time sense, New York, I feel a shift in power.

"What are you doing?" My head jerks around, and I meet Luke's disapproving gaze, but he can't deflate the high I'm floating on. "You planned this. You wanted me out of the office."

I push off Jack's door. "I'm not doing this with you today Luke."

He snags my forearm. "He made you CEO not wonder woman. "You had no business approaching Jack without me."

I remove his hand. "Duly, noted."

After an inauspicious start to the morning, the day fell into an easy respite. My workload was unusually light. Jack hid in his office most of it, and considering his earlier misfire, instead of doing substantive work, most likely he was plotting something more forbidding against me. Hannah the consummate girl, picked up on my vibe, and she stayed away. And aside from chauffeuring me back and forth to Christian's office for lunch, and peeking in on me from time to time Luke has kept his distance too.

"You should start packing, T. is on his way." I gather my things, and Luke escorts me to the front.

"Goodnight, Hannah."

"Goodnight. Wait a minute," she says, and we pause. "I'm going to need you two to do better tomorrow. You guys were acting weird today. Weirder than usual. I didn't like it." Hannah pouts.

Luke chuckles. "Good night Hannah. Stay out of trouble. We'll do better tomorrow. I promise." He winks, and in the glass doors, I see Hannah melt.

"Tone down the charm she has a crush on you.

"If she does, what concern is it to you." He yanks the SUV's door back

"Hi. Baby," Christian says, extending his hand across the seat.

"Hi," I say, and he heaves me to him.

"Kiss me." I wrap my arm around his neck, pressing my lips to his, slipping my tongue inside his mouth. "Mm. You feel so good." He whispers in my mouth, compressing me to his body.

I collapse against the seat, pulling my seatbelt around me. "Mia called. Your mom wants us to come to the house again tonight."

"More wedding shit. Why didn't Mia call me."

"I don't know…maybe you're a curmudgeon."

"I got you curmudgeon," he says, leaning in tickling me.

"Christian." I squeal.

"Taylor, change of plan, we're going to my parents," Christian orders, his hand sneaking between my thighs rubbing against the seam of trousers, arousing my sex.

Closing my eyes, I melt into the leather. "Aha." Softly, I moan.

He presses his mouth to my ear. "Take off your pants." My eyes flash open.

* * *

**Next Day**

Hugging the base, I heave inside the toilet bowl, as Christian holds the hair away from my face. "I wish you'd let me call my mother."

Lifting my head, I flush, and he grabs the wet towel, dabbing my mouth, forehead, and cheeks. "I'm fine. I think that's the last of it."

He twists my hair into a knot securing it in place. "Good thing you took the day off. At least I can take care of you."

I check his handiwork. "I'm not going to ask how you learned to make a chignon better than any hairdresser."

The corners of his eyes crinkle. "Good. I won't ask how you know a chignon."

"Ha. Ha. Ha." I throw my hands in the air, and Christian slips his arms under my shoulder blades hoisting me to my feet. "You can go to work- "

"I will do no such thing. I'm not leaving you when you're sick."

"Christian it's not serious. Most likely it's the 24- hour virus going around your family."

"I was there last night, why didn't I get it."

"You're Teflon. I'm glue. What they had stuck to me and not on you."

"Miss Steele, you're so, lucky you're beautiful, because you're corny as hell."

I touch his arm. "Well thank you Mr. Grey, not all men can appreciate, a wise-cracking woman." Teasing him, I creep to the sink to wash my hands.

"Mr. Grey, please let Miss Steele know I have ginger ale, hot tea, and some crackers for her. The tea and ginger ale should help settle her stomach, and the crackers-"

"Gail, you can come inside," Christian says.

"No. Stay away. I don't want you to catch my germs."

"I have the immune system of a horse, so, I'm sure I'll be fine. But if it makes you feel better, I'll stand outside at the door."

"Sounds good, and thank you for bringing me all that stuff, but I'm feeling much better. Well enough to have a full breakfast."

"Wonderful." She claps. "Mr. Grey, your breakfast is ready, or do you want to wait for Miss Steele?"

"I'll wait," Christian says.

I flick his arm. "No, you won't," I whisper. "Go eat. I'm going to take a long, therapeutic shower."

"At least let me get the water ready for you," he says to me, poking his head outside the bathroom. "Gail, I will have my breakfast now."

Christian closes the door, and I take my time removing the robe, stripping out of the silk nightgown. The bed clothes in a nest on the floor, I dip one shoulder into the raging water testing the temperature, then I submerge my whole body under the prolific rainwater shower head. Water beading on my skin, I undo my hair combing my fingers through it infusing the strands with the hot liquid. As the gush of water rolls down my body, I drop my head stalking its path as it circles the drain, eventually seeping through the tiny holes to the pipes underground. And as the cycle repeats itself, I imagine my wrongdoings being carried to a watery grave on the backs of the tiny molecules composing the swirling water. Droplets sputtering from my lips "H2O, H20, H20, H20, H20," I mumble incoherently until the sobs engulf me, sinking me to the bottom. I stretch my legs out on the hard surface of the tile made soft by the torrent of steaming liquid, rocking the back of my head to the shower wall.

They underestimate me, Jack, the general public, most of the people in Christian's inner circle, and to some extent he and Luke. I'm viewed as a shy naïve kumquat incapable of getting out of the way of her own left foot less more navigating a complex world. Perhaps, if I'd had a nurturing mother willing to make the loving sacrifices necessary to form the personality traits I'd been given at birth, I'd be just that girl. Instead I was brought up through an unforgiven foster care system with monsters caring about my innocence just so, they could feed upon it. Convinced I had to do it to survive, I constructed a veneer pretty enough to hide the scars of abandonment, and the ache of too many pains to name. So, all the world sees are my porcelain skin, bright eyes, and blessed luck.

I sit quietly underneath the downpour, my brain shouting the truth. I'm an amalgamation of all those qualities. But in the end I am strong. I am the living proof of that strength, I am still standing. I have to humble myself, and be open to accepting the pleasures waiting for me on the other side.

I devour breakfast, and convincing Christian I'd survive a few hours alone in the library I make a pit stop in the bedroom retrieving my memory box from its secret hideaway. Flopping on the window seat bracketed by two giant bookcases, I run my fingertips over the engraved letters, and recall when they were once carved into to the lid of a tattered old cardboard box. Lounging I gaze at my mid-section deciding to nourish my soul, after all my mind was full, it is my spirit running on empty.

"Perhaps, I should build you one in the bedroom."

I avert my eyes from the window to the door. Christian's shoulder is propped against the doorframe, legs crossed at the ankles, and arms at the chest. "Um. A window seat wouldn't work in your very modern bedroom."

"Our, very modern bedroom." Enunciating each word, he pops off the door walking further into the library. "I haven't seen this in a while." He plucks the crystal box from my lap. "Is this why you've been reluctant to share what's bothering you. You can talk to me you know. I don't feel the pain as deeply as you do, but I feel it," he says, setting the box down at my feet.

"I think about our baby every day, but I've learned how to miss him, without grieving for him.

He sticks his hand out, and I take it. "Let's get out of here."

"Where?"

"For a ride. Nothing glamorous." He smiles his shy little boy smile. "I thought we'd go to the drugstore."

"Drugstore. You."

"Sure. You need some things. Why not-"

"Miss Jones, you made it a point-"

"Woman, stop with the 20 questions. It's just a reason to get away. Humor me. Ride with me."

"Ride with you. You're driving."

He gulps. "Don't be so, surprise. But yes. Your Range Rover."

Christian pulls into traffic, making an immediate right from the garage. "Where are, you going, Walgreen's is that way." I point

"Going three blocks to the neighborhood big box store would defeat the purpose of a drive. We're visiting the drugstore we stopped at on our way back from Portland, after your graduation."

Clasping my hand in front of my face, I twist in the seatbelt. "Ah. Christian, that's so, sweet." I chuckle. " And this isn't the R8, I caught that," I say, ribbing him about absentmindedly trying to shift gears.

"You don't miss much, Miss Steele," he says, and the phones beeps. "What's up Mia, and before you say anything I'm in the car with Anastasia.

"Christian, knock off the attitude, I wasn't calling you. I was calling Ana's phone."

"Hi Mia."

"Hi Ana, sorry you have to put up with Mr. Grumpy, but we need you guys to come by the house after work."

"Hell no," Christian barks.

"Christian Trevelyan Grey," his mother interrupts.

Eyes squarely on the road, his left hand at ten on the steering wheel, Christian runs his right hand through his hair. "I apologize mother I didn't realize you were there. Thanks for the warning Mia- "

"You're welcome," she giggles, clearly delighted she walked her big brother into a trap.

Christian shakes his head. "Mother, we were there last night, and Anastasia got sick. I'm not bringing her back to that cesspool."

"Cesspool. Truly Christian, you're talking about your family's home. Regardless, you don't have anything to worry about. I had the entire house fumigated. Plus, look at this way, the visit will give me a chance to check Ana out," Dr. Grace says, "Ana dear if I can give you one piece of advice- drink lots of liquid. And that's not the doctor in me talking, it's the mother in me."

"I did. And I'm already feeling like myself. That's why I'm out with Christian."

"Mother who knew you were such a manipulator- "

"Who do you think, I got it from," Mia chimes in.

"Mia," Dr. Grace shouts.

"Mother you win. We'll stop by but we won't make it in time for dinner-" Squeezing his thigh, I gesture to him with my eyes. "Oh, yes, Mia we have a surprise announcement for you."

"Oh, my God, you two are having a baby," Mia blurts out, and at the same time Christian, his mom, and I scream at her.

"Geeze, sorry. My bad," Mia says.

"As I was about to say, we're using _A Thousand Miles_\- "She squeals, and Christian laughs. "Contain your excitement. Christina Peri isn't doing the performance, it will be Yo-Yo Ma"

We can't see her disappointment, but can hear the air when it drains from her body. "Mia you're going to love it," I add.

"It doesn't matter. The only important thing to me, is the wedding. My two most favorite people in the world are getting married."

"Mom, pinch the girl next to you, ask her where's my sister."

"She's right here darling, consider it a gift and hang up."

The drugstore is as quaint as we'd remembered, and we were having too much fun scouring the aisles. We weren't tethered to the trappings of the big city. Christian who is easily recognizable with his model good looks, natural charisma, and powerful exterior wasn't, and if the good folks in the neighborhood had, they were courteous and left him alone. Sure, the women in the small hamlet who either resembled Betty Crocker, or a Stepford wife, paid special attention, all women did. But this time was different. It felt different. They didn't outright dismiss me, or I didn't allow myself to blend into the background. In a Harvard sweatshirt, loose fitting jeans, and a hastily tied pigtail I stood next to nattily attired Christian with confidence.

The small basket loaded, hand in hand we make our way to the register. The cashier's cheeks stain twenty shades of red when Christian lines the countertop with one of each lubricant the store stocked.

"Did you find everything you need." She tries to maintain her professional poise, but her shaky voice fails her.

"Yes," I quickly reply, before my fiancé can say something highly inappropriate.

The merchandise safely in the trunk, we start on our journey back to Seattle. In a little under 2 hours we pull into the gated road leading to Christian's parent's home. Then he veers from the pathway to an area enveloped in darkness. "Where are, you going?" I say, staring into the heavily wooded area, searching for the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.

"This will do," he replies rolling to a standstill in a clearing where at least the moon and a few stars can find us.

I look to the side, back, and front. The trees are so, thick all I can see are their trunks. Thankfully, the moon is bright, otherwise I'd be scared to death. "For what?"

"Christening your car," he says, toying with my bang. "Now, I want you to take off everything but your shirt."

I gasp. "You want to have sex…here. In the car."

He flashes a winning smile that outshines all the celestial entities in the sky. "If you'd prefer, I could fuck you outside the car." His hand falls away, and he undoes his restraints.

"Inside will do," I mumble as I unbuckle my jeans. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

"When you're naked from the waist down, crawl into the back."

I follow his instructions, and he joins me in the back seat. "What about you. Mr. Grey you're wearing too much clothing."

Reclining against the door panel, he grabs me by the ankles elongating my legs yanking me down the seat. "I prefer clothes when I'm eating," he murmurs, inserting a finger inside me, then sticking the same digit inside his mouth. "You taste exquisite Miss Steele."

"Oh, my," I moan.

He positions one leg across the front head rest. "Your so wet," Christian whispers, arranging my other along the back completely opening me up to him. Parting my nether lips with his thumb, and index finger he stimulates every inch of my sensitive interior wall. "You're so, beautiful. All of you." He rubs the pad of his thumb over my clit, and I sink my fingers into the leather seat, writhing beneath him. "You know what like about having you like this."

Tilting up, I meet his gaze in the moonlight. "No."

"Watching you flourish. Every time I touch your clitoris you bloom like the most beautiful flower in the world." My hand shoots up when Christian buries his face between my thighs. The tips of my fingers drag against the glass, as I thrust my pelvis up, shoving my clit deeper into his mouth.


	59. Chapter 59: I Always Feel Someone

Chapter 59: **I always feel like someone is watching me**

**Disclaimer: EL James owns FSOG**

**A/N: **Thank you and enjoy.

* * *

"What," Christian barks, when abruptly I let my seatbelt recoil.

"My phone." I sigh. "I left it on my desk."

Christian covers my hand. "Stay. Jason will get it."

Mr. Taylor cocks his head to the back. "Miss Steele. Is it on top of the desk, or inside the desk?"

I snort. "That's the problem. I'm not exactly sure..." Christian's unflappable air dissolves into something unrecognizable. "What?"

"SIP's receptionist," Christian says, one foot already out the door he vaults from the SUV along with Mr. Taylor.

I twist to one side, trepidatious about what's going to confront me. "Oh, My God." I bolt from the car and intercept Hannah on the sidewalk in front of SIP at the same time as Christian and Mr. Taylor.

"Ana," Hannah croaks when she collides with me. Welling tears flow freely down her caramel cheeks almost achromatic as, the sobs steal her voice, and breath. "J- ack."

"Anastasia. Take Hannah. Get inside the SUV," Christian orders.

Hannah's shirt flaps open, when she lets go of the plackets catching Christian by the forearm. "No!" Right away Christian's eyes descend upon Hannah's fingers embedded in the sleeve of his blazer, and immediately she recoils her delicate hand. "I'm sorry."

The smallness of her voice, destroying me I admonish Christian with a look as, I drape my coat over her trembling shoulders. "No, need to apologize. Christian isn't upset with you, he simply wants to reach Jack before he has time to make a getaway." Clutching her shirt to her chest Hannah nods her consent. Clenching my lids closed, momentarily I flash on the repercussions for me. "Go. And Christian do what you must do," I say emphatically, choosing Hannah's well-being over my selfish consternations. "Come on." As Christian, and Mr. Taylor disappear inside SIP, I guide Hannah to inside the back of the SUV.

"This isn't real." Chanting she pounds the back of her head on the headrest.

I touch her hand, stilling her. "What happened. Luke, and I just left." Speaking softly, as not to alarm her I gather the sides of her shirt together.

Hannah's head droops. "He tore my shirt," she chokes.

"Oh, honey," I coo, "it's not that bad." I slip one of her arm inside the sleeve of my trench coat. "A few buttons are missing. We'll put them back on." Sticking the other arm in the trench, I button first one, then another button. "This shouldn't have happened." Feverishly, buttoning the damn coat, I struggle to manage my emotions. I was so, entrenched in private clashes with Jack, I'd dismissed the public ramification of his pernicious nature. Believing his lewd remarks were for my unfortunate benefit only. "There." Sitting back, I ensure she's adequately covered.

"Thank you," she gulps. "What's with you, and Jack-" She shoots me with a look.

"It's immaterial."

"He mentioned your name."

I freeze, and then I root inside the pocket of the back of the seat. Retrieving a Kleenex, I blot her tear stained cheeks. "What happened. I realize it's difficult." Patting her damp face, I angle my head. "So, take your time."

She hiccups. "It was lightening quick. One minute I was handing Jack his report the next his hands were all over me." Her voice falters. "His eyes were wild. Then inexplicably, he called me Ana..." I haul Hannah's head down cradling her to my shoulder.

" Ssh, I'm sorry. So, sorry-"

"I don't understand?" she mumbles, into my blouse.

"I think he wanted-"

Hannah jumps out of my embrace. "He's coming out."

"He can't hurt you." I angle my body. Jack's in the corner of my eyes, before I adjust fully locking eyes with him as Mr. Taylor parades his sorry excuse for a man in front of the window of the SUV. The rage in Jack's eyes is bone chilling. Strangely enough though, the fear coursing through me is relief flooding my body. At last, the truth is out in the ether. It's freeing. Christian can do with it what he will, at least I'm no longer tethered to Jack or the lies associated with him.

The door swings open, and Christian hops into the front seat throwing his arm across the armrest. "Hyde's out-"

"You mean fired?" Hannah clarifies.

"Yes," Christian answers. "Hannah, how we proceed next is up to you. Do you want to press charges?"

Hannah blanches. "Press charges. Go to the police..." She stares at me, her big brown doe eyes glistening with more tears waiting to be shed begging me.

"Christian. Give us a moment. Please." He vacillates, but exits the vehicle." I smooth hair from Hannah's face. "Breathe." Tucking the strands behind her ears, I stare directly into her eyes. "Good. Now, tell me. What do you want." I keep the tone of my voice is measured.

"For things to slow down. It feels as if everything is moving at warp speed."

"It is. Regrettably, we don't have the luxury of time. Jack has no ties to Seattle. Once Christian and Mr. Taylor releases him, most likely he will flee the city."

"I hope so." She exhales. "What do you think I should do?"

I wince. "What's best for you. I want Jack punished. But, it is your decision. Now you're in control."

"Do you think he has done this before." Shifting in my skin, I open my mouth, and just as quickly my hypocrisy closes it. "I mean we joked how smarmy he was. And yes, he invaded your personal space way too much for my liking, and he wasn't the most politically correct boss I'd ever had. But something like this." She shrugs. "Is he capable of committing a crime?"

"Look at you Hannah. You're cowering in the back seat of my car. Your shirt is hanging off you. Your shaking. What do you think? "

"Argh" She tips the back of her onto the headrest. "I just want this day to be over. Go home. Jump in my bed-"

"Pretend it never happened."

She chews on her bottom lip. "Something like that."

I caress her hand. "It happened. But you have the power to do something about it."

Hannah scrunches her face. "I can't."

"Okay." Stroking her hand, I reassure her I'm not judging her, and I tap on the window getting Christian's attention. Yanking the door back, he pokes his head inside the crack, and I relay Hannah's decision by nodding my head from side to side. Retracting his, he then informs Mr. Taylor.

Snaking my arm around Hannah, I sit back in the seat with her watching as the taxi holding Jack inside peels off. "Whew. He's gone. It's over." Sitting up, she grasps the door handle.

"Excuse me missy, where are you going?" I inquire, as Christian and Mr. Taylor slip into their seats up front.

"To my car."

"No, you're not." I clasp her shoulders. "You're going home with us." I train my eyes on the rearview mirror. Mr. Taylor's expression is unreadable, but Christian's is undeniable- he's furious, but I'm steadfast in my decision. "I don't want you moping alone inside your apartment. Remember, misery loves company." I blink in a futile attempt to wink. It elicits a timid smile from Hannah as she draws the seatbelt across her chest, and Mr. Taylor revs the engine.

The elevator pings open, and soon as our feet touch down in the vestibule Hannah's head juts upward. "I can't believe you live here," she whispers to me, as Christian, and Mr. Taylor negotiates their way around us.

"You're going to strain your neck, if you keep this up. Your head has been in the same position since we arrived at Escala."

"Miss Steele, please let me," Miss Jones announces, encroaching on Hannah, and me.

I swap places with her. "Miss Jones, meet Hannah," I say.

"Nice to meet you Hannah," Miss Jones says, dragging my coat down her arms. "It's a pleasure to have you join us for dinner."

"Thank you."

I pass Hannah's coat to Miss Jones to hang in the closet along with mine. "We're going to freshened up."

Miss Jones casts a glance over her shoulder. "I have the bedroom Mia uses when she visits, ready. And Hannah sweetheart when you've changed, bring me your shirt. I'll repair it for you."

Hannah's hand flies to her chest clutching the open shirt together. "Oh. Thank you," she murmurs.

Thanking Miss Jones for her kindness, I escort Hannah to the bedroom while I go to my room to select an outfit for her. Getting her settled, I circle back to Christian's bedroom, changing out of my outfit. Dinner is tranquil. We limit our sporadic conversations to the weather, and the menu in an effort to avoid stumbling into a discussion about the 180-pound elephant in the dining room.

Hannah nudges her plate forward. "That was probably the best meal I've had in a long time."

"You hardly, ate anything," I say, eyeing her barely eaten salmon.

"Now, you know how I feel," Christian grumbles.

"You Mr. Grey, stay out of this." I feign tossing my napkin at him, and he ducks. "As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted." I smirk at Christian.

"I'm sorry Ana. Don't be upset but my appetite is non-existent." She dabs, the sides of her mouth placing the napkin on her plate. "You, and Mr. Grey have gone above and beyond. I'm very appreciative of your hospitality, but it's time for this Cinderella to grab her carriage and go home."

I tap on the table. "Non-sense. You're spending the night." I peer up. Christian is speechless, and I motion to him with my eyes.

"Yes. Of course, Hannah. Spend the night," Christian says, after some prompting. "I'll have your car towed to Escala. You can drive it into SIP in the morning. If it's your plan to go to work."

"Jack's gone. So, yes-"

"Christian. Hannah can ride with Luke and me." Lifting his wine glass in the air, he tips it in my direction.

Tossing the last sip of vino back, he pushes away from the table. "If you ladies will excuse me, I'm going to my office."

I blow him a kiss, and he catches it hoisting the fist to his lips planting a kiss on it. "Okay, I'll see you in a minute."

He disappears down the hall, and Hannah's face glows with her first authentic smile. "He's a dream."

My head bobbles. "That, he is."

"I'm intimidated as hell by him, but he seems like a nice guy. Those eyes though. They're stern, and hypnotic. It's like he's seeing inside your soul, and cutting it out of your body at the same time"

"Yep, that's an adequate description of Christian." I chuckle. "He has two sides, but you're spot on about his eyes. They've gotten me into a whole lot of trouble."

"I bet." Laughing she picks at her top. "Thank you for the outfit. Who, knew I could fit into something of yours."

"Seriously. It's yoga pants, and a matching t-shirt."

"Good thing. It's stretchy, which explains why I can fit into it."

"Come on Silly Goose," I say, scooting back in my chair. "Ready to go the room?"

"Yes." Hannah stands, and entwining our arms we stroll down the hallway to her bedroom. Once we're behind the closed door, Hannah plops down on the bed, and I sit next to her on the edge.

I connect with her dull eyes, and her slack expression is heartbreaking. I drape my arm over her shoulders pulling her to me, and I lay my head-on top of hers. Witnessing my effervescent Hannah so, defeated, makes me angry, and more rueful. "You're going to get through this. I'll help you."

"This isn't your fault, you know," she mutters.

"Repeat it to the knot in the pit of my stomach. I let Jack's inappropriate behavior persists. By not reporting him, I gave him permission..."

Hannah's head rises bumping mine up. "Stop it. If I can't blame myself, you can't either. I stayed silent too."

Wiping my eyes, I chortle. "I'm supposed to be comforting you, and here you are offering me words of wisdom."

"You're my girl. We'll support each other," she says, and giggling-crying we hug it out.

We separate, and hurriedly I dig my ringing phone from my pocket. "One second," I say, putting it to my ear without checking the ID. "This is Ana."

"Ana."

"Luke."

"Shit. T. told me what went down at SIP. I was out of pocket. Fucking Hyde-"

"Umm, incidentally Hannah is right here. Why don't I let you talk to her?" Lowering the phone from my ear, I press it to Hannah's. "Chat with Luke. I'll go check on Christian." I tiptoe out of the room, and speed walks to Christian's office.

"Hannah. How is she?" Christian says, when the door opens, and I'm standing in the doorway.

"In shock." Traipsing across the threshold, I rake my hand through my hair. "We haven't discussed it. What did Jack have to say?" Nonchalantly, I sit in the chair in front of his desk.

Reclining in his seat, Christian steeples his fingers. "Nothing. Surprisingly." He taps the tip of the steeple to his mouth. "For a man with his arrogance, he was quiet. He let the shit eating grin on his face do his bidding. But Jason wasn't having it-"

"No wonder his face was roughed up."

Christian rises. "That wasn't all Taylor. Hannah got him pretty good. Marks were all over his face. He had a black eye." He rounds the desk. "For a man who was jealous of what I had, I'm surprised he didn't wax poetically about you," he says, sitting back on the lip of the desk.

"You can say it."

He crosses his arm in front of his chest, and legs at the ankles. "I wasn't looking for vindication. I wanted to be wrong. I wanted your first official job, to be a wonderful experience." Christian closes then open his eyes. "I'm merely relieved that he didn't try this shit with you. He'd be dead right now."

"Hannah might have gotten in some jabs, but his faced looked like someone tried to kill him," I say, playing off my discomfort.

"Nah." He uncrosses his limbs. "Taylor was simply reacting as a father. He saw his daughter in Hannah. He was appalled and repulsed by the man. As was I. We'd both hoped she'd pressed charges. Hyde, needs to be in prison."

"I trust you'll find other ways, to make him pay." He smirks. "I wanted the same thing. But you have to see it from Hannah's prospective. It's hard enough for a woman to get justice when there's been penetration, and she's armed with a rape kit as proof. You have to forgive Hannah for choosing not to be victimized all over again."

"Is it how you felt?"

Using the back of my hand, I feel under my chin for the warm liquid. "Which time?" Christian lunges forward, and I shrink back. "Nope. This is about Hannah not me."

"Okay." Sitting back, he grips the edge of the desk.

I sniffle. "How were you able to fire Jack, if the deal isn't complete."

"Easy. I got in touch with the current owner. I do not tolerate sexual harassment in the work place. So, Roach acted swiftly, and concisely, otherwise I'd cancelled the deal." He sighs. "I want to talk about you. I'm sorry about what happened to Hannah, but you're important to me."

I peer up at him. "Tonight, is about Hannah." I take a deep breath. "I came here to inform you, I'm sleeping with her."

Christian's hands drop to his side. "Anastasia, you're taking this too far. I need you too."

"Christian please don't do this. I'm not in the mood for one of your life lessons."

He drops to one knee in front of me. "Baby you've done more than your share. At this moment, I can't discern if your obsession with Hannah, is about Hannah. Or Kate, or your own history of sexual abuse.

"The question, is undeserving of a response. I'm capable of compartmentalizing my emotions. You're not the only one with demons." I tip my chin up. "And just so, you know, Kate and I have made amends. But this is all about Hannah, and yes some of my past. I'm doing for Hannah, what I wish my mom had done for me. I don't want her to waking up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, and alone. It hasn't hit her, when it does I want to be there. That's why I'm hovering."

Christian hooks his arm around my waist, dragging me to the floor with him. "You, my soon to be wife are amazing. Your heart is too big for this tiny body. Like those sisters at the center, Hannah is fortunate to have you as her champion."

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I lay my head on his chest. "Thank you for understanding, being so considerate. Thank you for doing it for me." I glance up at him. "Can I change the subject."

"Please."

Retracting my arms, I sit upright in his lap. "I want to offer Hannah a senior position at SIP once the purchase goes through."

"Whoa. I wasn't prepared for that." He cups the nape of his neck. "Wait till morning, let the emotions subside."

"Please don't do that. I'm not an emotional wreck, making a rash decision. Soon as you informed me of the SIP deal, I knew I wanted Hannah to take a leadership role. She's smart, confident, and she's a natural."

"Anastasia, she's a receptionist. An executive would be a big leap. There are positions in the middle."

"It would be a leap of faith, like you're taking with me. If you're going to trust me with this company, you have to trust me."

"I trust you." He assists me to my feet, and he stands. "What role are you considering?"

"A new one. I'll need to flesh it out. But it will be the head of something."

Christian smiles. "Head of something, now there's a title I'd like." He opens his arms wide. "Give me a kiss."

I fall into his embrace, giving him a chaste kiss. "I'm getting out of here, before you get carried away."

"Me." He points his hands at his chest. "You were the one grinding against me."

I pat him on the shoulder. "Yep, believe that. It'll keep you warm tonight." I say cockily, sashaying away from him.

"You caught me," Hannah says, when I bounce inside the bedroom

"Please." I gesture with my hands. "Don't let me stop you. Mia has some nice stuff."

She peeks over her shoulder. "I can only imagine what your closet must look like."

"Hmm. It's pretty amazing."

Laughing, she closes the closet door, walks to the side table picking up my iPhone. "Your dad called."

"Thanks." I take the phone from her hand. "I'd better return his call."

"Hello kiddo"

"Hi Dad. It's late for you."

"Not when I can't reach my daughter. You were on my mind. The day is getting close. Where am, I supposed to be, and when am I supposed to be there."

"Well, the rehearsal will be the night before the wedding. But Christian's parents are hosting a family dinner that Monday, so you'll need to be in Seattle by then. And dad thank you for the check. The dress is taken care of, you didn't have to use your money."

"I did. Christian Grey may have more of it than me, but I get to spend the little I have on my only daughter."

"I love you daddy."

"Me too baby girl. Hey, I didn't hear anything about parties."

I giggle. "My bride maids and I are having something at the Grey's. But no bachelor party."

"What. I can't believe Elliot's going to let that slide."

"You've met Christian right."

"Say no more." He chuckles, the laughter rolling up from his chest, is the best medicine a girl could have. "Okay Kiddo, I'll see you Monday."

I end the call, rejoining Hannah who has returned to the bed. "Your dad seems cool."

"My dad is a lot of things, cool isn't one of them." Hannah laughs.

"Your mom."

"My mom. Mm. My mom is out of the picture."

"Forgive me for prying-"

"You're weren't prying, it was a logical question." I lean back on my arm. "I envy you, you have the family I've always wanted." Her head droops. "Hannah."

"I'm not looking forward to telling my family. I let my Dad down. He taught me self-defense. Street sensibility-"

I touch her hand. "Hannah look at me. Your father will be proud of you. The self-defense he taught you staved off your attacker, and it wasn't worse." I sit upright. "How are you? And don't give me some canned answer. You don't have to pretend around me."

"Numb. I'm still processing it all. Attempted Rape. What do you do with that?"

"Talk to someone. A professional can help you-"

"A faceless person on a rape hotline."

"Or a therapist."

"Talking to you is helping. Being here is helping.

"Thank you but I'm not a therapist, or a rape counselor-"

"And I wasn't raped."

"Just because he didn't penetrate you, doesn't make the trauma less real. He violated you. Stole your innocence- took the away the belief that your body was your body. You had the ultimate control. Because of him you'll look over your shoulders forever. Doubt your judgment. You won't even trust the pleasure consensual sex brings to you..."

"Ana."

I jerk my head up. "Huh."

"You started out talking about me, but that went somewhere else. Were you raped?"

I dab at my eyes. "Like you, I was a victim of sexual assault."

Gasping she clasps her hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

I grip her hand. "Don't. You had no reason to believe there was any darkness in my life. People see the bling, the glitz, and the glamour, they are unconcerned about the human being behind it. I'm not going to go into details, but I've been where you are. And I know it's confusing. You're thankful that you were spared, the worse, at the same time you have an overwhelming sense of guilt because you were spared. Why you when an immeasurable number of women weren't as fortunate."

Hannah tucks her legs under her body. "We were both guilty. We let our uneasiness about Jack go unchecked. But I've learned my lesson. I'll trust my instinct from now on. What about you?"

"Me too." I touch her thigh. "I'm going to share something with you. But Hannah, you can't say a word. Promise."

"I promise."

"Really, promise."

"I promise." She shrugs. "You want to pinky swear?"

"Okay." We entwine our little fingers, and I sit back. "Grey Enterprise purchased SIP." Her eyes widen. "The sale isn't complete that's why you can't say anything. But the best part of it. You're looking at the newest CEO." Squealing she starts clapping, but I calm her down. "Hold on. I want you to be my new Vice President of the newly created online division." You can hear crickets.

"What."

"I want you to be my Vice-"

"I heard you the first time. This is your pity talking-"

"No-"

"Ana be reasonable. I'm a receptionist. I don't have a degree. I'm under no illusions, I'm aware of my limitations at work."

"You're only limited by your minds. And Hannah you have a great mind. No one has challenged it, but I will. I will pay for you to go back to school, if that's what you want. I don't have details about anything, we'll work them out together."

"You have an amazing life. You just met me, and you really want to take me along on the journey?"

"I told you. I feel a connection with you. If you were a guy, you'd probably think I was too forward. But one thing you'll soon figure out, there are a lot of moving parts in my life. And they all move fast. You have to get in where you fit in."

"Is that what you're doing fitting in?"

The mood in the room shifts. "Come again."

"You have an amazing home. An unbelievable fiancé, but what I notice is you're not the same as when you're around Luke. Even when you guys are fighting there's a vibe from you that I don't get when you're with your fiancé."

"What are you getting at Hannah."

"Now, I'm the girlfriend being to forward." I listen intently. "Is there something going on between you and Luke." For the obvious reasons, I'm grateful she lowered her voice a few octaves. So, I barely heard her.

I stare at her. "Luke's my bodyguard. When someone is charged with guarding your life. You connect with them on a level different from any of the other relationships in your life."

"A few minutes ago, when you were talking to him, your face beamed. I'm sure it's not intentional but you light up when he walks into a room." She takes my hand in hers. "You called me a friend. So, some friendly advice. If that's all there is to it, you might want to tone it down. Because if Mr. Grey hasn't noticed he will."


	60. Chapter 60

Chapter 60: **Say Something**

**Disclaimer: **FSOG belongs to EL James

**A/N:** Thank you and enjoy

_Say Something, I'm giving up on you_

_I'll be the one, if you want me to_

_Anywhere, I would follow you_

_Say Something, I'm giving up on you_

_ A Great Gig World_

* * *

"The air in the office is even cleaner with Jack's departure. Who knew he was the toxin?" Luke says, holding the SUV door open for me. "I'd forgotten how relaxed people were when Elizabeth was in charge."

"Me too." Ducking my head, I crawl inside. "To think I thought she was a tough nut." Waiting for me to settle, Luke closes me in and hauls his door back.

Sliding behind the wheel, he starts the engine. "What's your understanding of what went down with Hyde?" Peering into the rearview mirror, Luke shifts the gear into reverse.

"Same as yours. Heck, your understanding might be better. You were in a position where you could ask poignant questions. I had to be strategic with my questioning." I angle my head to the side catching sight of his profile.

Keeping his eyes on the mirror, Luke steers us backwards. "I had a tad more leeway than you, still I couldn't be too obvious otherwise I'd raise suspicion." Shifting into drive, he pilots the SUV forward. "T. was more animated than Grey in describing Hyde's demeanor. The asshole was defiant in his obstinate silence which annoyed T. so much so, he tried to erase the silly grin off his face with his fist."

My eyes flit to the cars blanketing us on one side, and blankly I stare out the window. "I wonder why he said nothing. Don't you?"

"I have my suspicion- "

"I thought Jack would've relished exposing me," I murmur, studying the Alaskan license plate.

"I have a theory. Not sure you'll like it or want to hear it." The SUV brakes hard, and my head bobbles forward. Blinking at the red light my eyes adjust to his in the rearview mirror.

"What, another not so subtle reminder of how royally I screwed up?" There's an extended pause, and I nod at him. "You have the green light."

"No," Luke says, accelerating. "Said all I had to say, got the t-shirt to prove it." I smile at his surprising attempt to inject humor into the equation. "I'm confident Jack was drunk with the idea of the 6 million dollars, but the promises of riches couldn't override his sick fascination with you. Clearly, his infatuation had turned dark- into an obsession."

"You're right. Not what I wanted to hear. The idea of Jack stalking me is beyond worrisome. I just want to be rid of him-" Luke mumbles under his breath, but I overhear him. Hustling to the edge of the seat I grip the back of his seat. "What happened to the t-shirt, the proof wore off?"

Slamming on the brakes, he shifts in his seat. "Damn it Ana. I could've helped. If only you'd trusted me."

"How Luke? Tell me how," I snarl, "it wasn't about me. Or you. I was protecting Christian- his good name, and everything he'd built. Jack swore he'd ruin him if I'd told anyone."

"I would've come up with something. Have I ever let you down?

"No," I admit, "not once." Falling back in the seat, I linger on his beseeching eyes.

"Then why didn't you just come to me…" His plea is achingly haunting.

"How do you think Hannah's doing?"

Luke snorts. "Hannah is strong. She might've been fretful yesterday, but today she's out for blood. Hyde's lucky he got out of town when he did." The car behind us honks, cutting through the silence cloaking the noise. Flipping the man off, Luke flops forward creeping through the intersection, the traffic too congested to dart.

"Jack didn't get away unscathed. Per Christian, Hannah got him good. She wasn't going down without a fight."

Slowing, the SUV rolls to a complete stop behind a line of cars. "Why are you changing the subject?" In the mirror his quizzical gaze assesses me.

"I'm not. Some would say, Hannah is the subject, after all she was nearly raped because of me."

"Listen. We may quarrel. Have a substantive debate about how you mishandled the whole blackmail fiasco. The lying to my face." The intensity in his eyes, deepens. "But what happened to Hannah. Nah Ana. That's on Hyde. You're not to blame. You were a victim too."

"Maybe. But it does nothing to mitigate my guilt." I sniffle. "Leading up to the faithful day, it became evident to me Jack was escalating. I told him as much. But I said nothing to you and Hannah. That's why she became collateral damage…"

"Ana-"

"He had the audacity to call her by my name." My voice cracks. "How depraved…"

"Ana. You can't continue second guessing yourself. This blame game is untenable- "

I sniffle. "I thought I was handling him, but all I did was leave Hannah vulnerable..." I let loose a sob.

"Fuck!" Luke turns the steering wheel sharply. The tires squeals, and we come to rest on the berm. Throwing the SUV in park, he leaps from the front seat yanking my door open, cradling my head to his chest. "I'm not going to let you own this. You will not be a martyr." Touching his chin to the top of my head, he strokes my hair. "If you want to blame someone, put it on my shoulders. I crossed the lined. I permitted my feelings for you to seep into all our interactions. This confusion is the fertile ground, that allowed the seeds of distrust for me to sprout. "

I shove him hard. "Luke. You have been-" I meet his eyes, and he rubs this thumbs over the trail of water trickling down my cheeks. "At every turn, you've been a stalwart. A loyal friend when I needed one. A forceful bodyguard when the situate dictated. Most importantly, you've kept your promise- you've been the gate keeper of my heart..."

"Sorry." He shrugs. "No handkerchief," he whispers, and at the same time a light-hearted chuckle passes between us.

I cup his wrists. "We should go, before we attract a crowd. Namely, the paparazzi."

"I should've done more. I knew Jack was a problem. It doesn't matter how you try to frame it-bottom line I let you down."

I lower his hands, and he gazes down into my eyes. "From the first day, I met you, you've never let me down. You are a good man Luke Sawyer. I want so, much for you to find your soulmate. And something tells me she's in South America."

"Always the romantic." A hint of whimsy glinting in his eyes, Luke draws his hands away. "You might luck up on two great loves in a lifetime, but you get only one mate for your soul." Winking, he closes the door and I recline back in the seat an improper vision popping into my head.

"Christian." I answer on the first ring, startled by it.

"Anastasia. Are you alright?" Checking his side mirror, Luke eases back into the fray.

"Sorry. Just frustrated with the traffic." Luke checks me out in the rearview mirror, and I avert my gaze.

"That explains why you're late. Luke should've updated Taylor or me on your where-"

"Christian we're stuck in a traffic jam, it's not a big deal." The phone glued to my ear, I strain my neck surveying the traffic ahead. "Oh. Looks like we're starting to move. So, we should be there shortly."

About 15 minutes later, Luke pulls inside the enclosed garage at Grey House, driving straight into his reserved parking spot. Cutting the engine, he twists in his seat. "One last thing. I still haven't determined how Leila Williams fits into all of this, seeing she's been banished to Antarctica."

"I doubt we'll ever find the answer."

"And forget what I alleged. You don't have to worry. Grey would die before he let anything happen to you."

"What about you?" The question originating in my brain escapes through a hatch in my mouth before I have time to properly vet it.

"I'd die too."

I drop my eyes to my hands, and peer back up at him. "That was inappropriate."

"Ana. My contract is almost up. In another 6 months, I'll be out of here."

"You're here now." I swallow.

"I am, but you need to start getting comfortable with when I'm not. Ryan will do-"

"I have at least 6 months? Right." Luke nods. "Then when the time comes, we can discuss Ryan."

* * *

**Next Day**

The sun's rays cut through the crisp cool air, bouncing off the colorful glass wares artfully arranged inside the window of a gift shop. Cupping our hands in front of our brows we block the glare determine to read the labels taped in front of each museum quality piece. On one white pedestal, is a psychedelic, orange, red, and yellow vase from the 70s'. On the second, a unique gilded glass jar from Asia, and completing the trio, a grouping of simple bottles in different heights in variations of blue hand blown by a local artist right here in the sleepy town of La Conner, Washington. Flanked by art galleries, gift shops, museums, and restaurants galore Christian and I explore the main street pressing our noses to the windows. Next door to the gift shop, is women's boutique. The store is highlighting designs with classical lines, that look like a froufrou machine, and a bedazzled gun exploded on each outfit. Guffawing at the yellow polka dot skirt suit, trimmed in red grosgrain ribbon, with beading at the neckline we skip a couple storefronts breaking at a cute cupcake shop.

Christian's thumb flits across the back of my hand. "What would you like?"

"Um." I scan the board. "Macarons."

"No cupcakes?"

Swiveling from side to side I sway our arms. "Nah, it's a macaroon kind of day."

Christian, chuckles. "Okay, whatever that means."

The grandmotherly, woman behind the counter clicks her thong, getting our attention. "How many Sweetie. They're $4.00 each, 6 for $24, and you get one free."

"Oops. You heard us."

"Yes, ma'am. I'm just blind, not deaf." She winks at Christian.

Her quick wit earns an award-winning smile from my fiancé. "In that case, we'll have 6," Christian says.

She selects a decorative box from the stack. "What flavors?" Prompting us, she slides the glass door to the side. "Chocolate, and coffee are our best sellers."

I eyeball, the rows of colorful confections. "One Chocolate then." I peer up at Christian. "What would you like?"

"Pistachio."

Plucking the mini green disc from the display, she tucks it behind the brown one, and I become fascinated with the idea of color blocking the treats. "5 more." Standing upright, I choose a strawberry, lemon, almond, passion fruit, and lavender more for their color palettes than their delectability. When she's done nesting the sweet morsels in a row, they resemble tiny jewels to be admired rather than consumed.

I wave my hand at her. "Um. You don't have to seal the box. We're eating here," I say, when the woman snips a small piece of ribbon.

Laying the pink satin strip on the counter top she apologizes profusely. "Forgive my manners. I'm usually not here. I'm filling in for my daughter. She's taking my granddaughter to her first dance recital-"

"How sweet? Is this her shop?"

"It is, now. It was a bakery before my husband and I retired. My daughter took it over and turned it into a cupcake place." She removes the single plastic glove from her right hand. "So. Can I get you folks something to drink?"

"A small coffee for me. Black. Tea for her. Earl Grey, bag out."

"Change that, please. I'll have your special blend- the ginger peach instead." Speculatively, Christian eyes me.

I shrug my shoulder. "What? I wanna try something different."

"So, you folks looking for a wedding venue." Setting Christian's coffee on a tray, she points her chin at me. "Saw your engagement ring," she says, addressing the confusion on my face.

"Oh."

Christian releases my hand draping his arm over my shoulders. "Nope we have a venue, we're getting married next weekend," he says, proudly, "this is a mini escape for my fiancé before the craziness descends on her."

"How thoughtful. You're a lucky young lady. And he's a lucky young man. You two are adorable." Setting my tea down on the tray with the rest of our purchase she nudges it forward. "This is on me. Consider it a wedding present."

Christian drags his arm back, digging into his pocket. "Thank you, but I can't let you do that."

"Let me." The crow's feet at the corners of her eyes documenting the life she's lived crinkles. "Son. I'm 80 years old there's precious little a man can or cannot let me do."

Applauding the elderly woman's feistiness, Christian gracefully acquiesces. "Thank you." Cautiously he lifts the tray careful not to spill the hot beverages.

"I'm sorry, what is your name?" I inquire.

"Everyone knows me as Miss Betty. And you?"

Stepping around Christian, I reach across the cash register. "Ana." Shaking her hand, I motion to Christian. "And he's Christian." He flinches. Visibly upset- I suspect it's either because I introduced him, or because I introduced him as Christian and not Mr. Grey. Most likely it's both.

"Obviously, I can't shake your hand," he says, gesturing to the tray.

"Well Christian and Ana enjoy. And have a perfect wedding day."

Together we thank her again, and we proceed to the exit. Tipping the side of my head to his shoulder I whisper, "this is the life. It's, refreshing to be treated like any other couple. No one knows or cares who we are. We're just another cute couple on vacation roaming the streets."

"We could change our status to permanent residents."

My feet falters. "Come again."

"You know. Move here." Crossing the portal, he selects one of three bistro tables, on the sidewalk in front of the bake shop, placing the tray on it. I gawk at him, as he casually pulls my chair out for me.

Breathing heavily, I thank him, and tucking the tail of my skirt underneath me, I sit. "Christian." I pout.

Humming he scoots his chair closer to me, and removes the lid from the box offering it up to me. Rolling my eyes, I select a strawberry macaron, and as expected Christian chooses the pistachio. "We got lucky with the weather," he says, sliding his sunglasses from the top of his head to his eyes.

I squint. "We did, but it's kind of nippy even with the brightness of the sun." Mirroring Christian I do the same with my sunglasses.

"Too much sun. You want to switch side?"

"No. What I want is to revisit the little ditty you dropped. You can't throw out a bomb like that, and let it hang out there."

Crossing his legs at the knee, Christian crooks his finger through the handle of his coffee mug. "I was thinking, we could move here." With his free hand, he pops the remaining piece of macaron in his mouth, sizing me up.

"By thinking, you mean you've already bought the parsonage. I'm sure it comes with its own tulip farm so, we won't have to mingle with the town's folks and their invited guests during the annual festival."

"Great suggestion. I hadn't thought of it." Dropping his leg, he raises the mug to his mouth. I wait patiently for him to set it down, and then I smack his shoulder. "What? And When did you become so, cynical."

"Since meeting you. It was a right of passage." I smirk.

"Cute." He taps my chin. "You can relax. I'm not surprising you with an estate. But damn, I wish I was, the tulip farm is a nice touch."

"Now who's being cute."

"I don't do cute." He lobs his head back. "You're spot on, this is the life." His head falls forward, and he touches my knee. "Like you said, here we'd just be Christian and Ana."

I gaze out at the Rainbow Bridge in the distance, take in the historic scenery of the downtown district. And bask in the floral essence of the air, mixed in with the aroma of fresh baked bread from an authentic bakery a few storefronts down per the dangling sign for Primrose Family Bakery and Cake shop. "I like the vibe, the serenest, and the solitude it would provide-"

"The quality of life compared to Seattle would be unmatched, but in the vein of transparency, I must be honest. The town is crowded during the summer months, and on weekends. Come the weekend these streets will be teeming with people."

I push my tea cup to the side. "Apparently, you've been thinking about it. You brought me here for a reason. So, you want us to move from Escala-"

Cupping my hand, he brings it to his lip. "I brought you here to relax. The ordeal with Hannah has taken a toll on you. Planning the wedding has occupied a lot of your mind. I wanted us to take some time out to enjoy us." Gently, he lowers my hand. "The idea came to me when I witnessed just how relaxed you were when we made the quick jaunt to the drugstore. It could be a weekend home. It's just a boat ride."

"Christian how often would we use it?" I nudge my hand away. "When we're back from our honeymoon it's going to be nonstop. You, getting back into work, me launching a new company. It would be a waste of money."

"I wouldn't miss it."

"I would." Popping the lid back on the macrons, I stare at him. "I don't want to get so, used to having money, I spend it just because I can."

"Tell you what, I'll let you put me on an allowance." Smirking, he leans in combing his fingers through my hair. "I like this."

"I'll keep it in mind."

Sitting back, he stares at me. "You brought it up. Let's discuss work. Have you put any more thought into the position for Hannah?"

"I have. I even have the official name- Vice President of the Digital Division- "

"Vice President. I thought you were thinking a middle manager position."

"I said Senior."

"Have you discussed it with Roz?"

"One I haven't had time. Two, I want to flesh things out more. Since SIP is an established company, I'm going to keep the core business model, but expand it to give us more of an online footprint. I want to do more research before meeting with Roz. She's no nonsense, I want to have a completed business plan. Impress her.

"I want you to understand that Roz works at your pleasure, don't let her intimidate you. You don't impress her, she impresses you. And I want you to feel comfortable to bounce ideas off me." He sighs. "When the deal closes, SIP will be your baby. So, do you have a name in mind."

"One or two."

"One or two? I presume it would be Grey Publishing, after all it will be under the umbrella of Grey Enterprises, and not to mention by the time the deal closes you will be Mrs. Christian Grey."

"It's under consideration." I dab my mouth with the paper napkin.

He scrunches his mouth. "Under consideration, she says."

Pushing away from the table I leap to my feet. "Chop, chop time to go."

"Did you just chop, chop me?"

"Yes." I grab his hands pulling on him. "We're having a lovely morning, I don't want to ruin it with a silly fight."

He stands. "No silly fights here," he says, his fingers seeking mine. "Lead the way Miss Steele." Clinging to Christian's arm, I glimpse the windows of the shops we pass by. "Want to go in any."

"Nope, I'm having too much fun window shopping."

"You are a cheap date Miss Steele." He peers down at me. "I'll reassure Carrick, my fortunate is safe with you."

We nod at the locals scattered here and there, on the street of the waterfront village. Absent the crowd of visitors, Christian and I are free to tour the bounty of locally owned boutiques, museums and galleries in obscurity. I was shocked when he woke me in the wee hours of the morning, with a suggestion, instead, of his winker wedged between my thighs. And I repaid his enthusiasm by agreeing, and putting work into my appearance. I took full advantage of the luxury of being the fiancé of a Billionaire afforded me. I loaded my hair with super expensive products blow drying it bone straight. Once my hair resembled hair from an infomercial, I applied the same care to my make-up and to my utter disbelief, I created the perfect smoky eye, from the earth tone pallet, the glam squad hid in plain sight. My hair, and make up looking fierce, I face timed Kate to help me select the perfect outfit for the impromptu day out.

In the end, it was all worth it. I'm confident. On the arm of arguably one of the most good-looking men in the universe, and I feel like his equal. Where's the paparazzi when you need them. I wish they were trolling us, they need to capture this miracle. "Thank you, for a magnificent adventure."

"You're welcome. But the adventure is just beginning."

The pavement crunching beneath our soles, I rest my head on his shoulder. "Our journey has been fraught with indecisions, bad decisions, but we've withstood it all, and now we're getting married."

"We're getting married," Christian mumbles. Slowing to a dead stop in the middle of the main street and he circles his arms around my waist. "We're getting married," he yells to the tip of his voice twirling me.

A spattering of applause erupts, and Christian sets me down on my feet. The one or two locals wandering the street had gathered. "Thank you," I say shyly, to the outpouring of congratulations. "They have no idea what they just witnessed. The media would die to get that money shot. To them-"

"We're just Christian and Ana." Completing my thought, he kisses me on the top of my head. "Exactly why I want us to spend as much time here as possible.

I nod my head. "That's why I don't." I peek up at him. "We'll ruin the charm. Soon as we become part-time residents, we'll go back to being Mr. Grey, and why-did- he- choose- her- again?"

Christian chuckles "Because he's a smart man."

I glance around, and the handful of people by now had scattered. "I do wish we could stay longer."

"We can. I'll have Andria get rid of our tickets."

"No. You bought them for me. I don't want to seem to ungrateful. On that note we'd better getting going. I want to stop by Kate to pick up my clutch."

* * *

**Tomorrow Morning**

Luke throws his arm across the seat. "Before you say anything let me. You are my bodyguard. I am your target. What you do with in your personal time is none of my business even if it is boinking my best friend behind my back. You do not tell me why and I won't ask why you Kate saw fit to keep your relationship from me-"

"It wasn't a relationship."

I hold up a finger. "Stop right there. We're not doing this. It's your life. What you do with it is none of my concern."

"You're mad."

"Here, Christian was questioning if you'd lost your sharpness," I say, snidely clutching the door handle.

"At least talk to Kate."

"I kinda have to, seeing she's in my wedding party."

"Wedding. That's right. You're getting married. So, who I fuck really is none of your business."

"Don't bother, I'll walk myself in," I snap, when he goes to open his door

"Good morning Ana." Sliding my backpack from my shoulder, Hannah leans into me. "Peeps are buzzing about you filling in for Jack."

"Let them."

"What bee got in your bonnet-"

"Good morning Hannah," Luke interrupts.

Smirking at me, Hannah greets Luke with a, "well, good morning Mr. Bee." Dumbfounded he shrugs her off.

"Hannah. I'm not in the mood."

"Good thing I have your tea waiting for you in your office. And the report you requested."

"Thank you."

"Oh. Your friend Kate called." She sighs. "And called. She said she couldn't reach you."

Luke trains his eyes on me, and I pretend not to notice. "Any other messages." Grabbing the notes from Hannah's hand, I head to my office, formerly Elizabeth's office, recently Jack's old office. In toe Hannah rattles off other pertinent information to me. "That's it," I say, extracting the backpack from her at the threshold. She picks up on my body language, and wheels around without responding.

Clutching the doorknob, tears bubble up. Flipping to my front I press my back to the door slinking down it to the floor. The walls close in on me, as reality catches up with me. The passion, I'd suppressed; in order, to make my reaction to the discovery more palatable to Christian is coming to the surface, and I haven't the slightest idea how to compartmentalize it. Rubbing my eyes with the heels of my palms, slowly I rise. Standing, I traverse the office dropping my bag on the chair in front of the desk, and rounding it I sit.

Removing the lid from the cup I dip the tea bag inside the hot water taking it right back out. "Ana, your fiancé is on the other line," Hannah's disembodied voice announces before I can take a sip.

"Thank you. Patch him through."

"Good morning baby."

"You don't have to babysit me you know. I've recovered from last night."

"I'm well aware, but checking up on you is my favorite past time," Christian teases. "That being said, I hope you weren't too hard on Luke. Now, Katherine. I don't give a damn."

Propping an elbow on the desk, I bury my forefinger, and thumb into my forehead. "I really don't want to have this discussion. I have a lot of work to do."

"Careful, you're beginning to sound like me. Have I created a monster?"

"No, you haven't. With everything going on, I'm glad to have the distraction."

"Uhuh." He sighs. "On a serious note, I'm proud of you for stepping into Jack's role, with poise and conviction. It pleases me to see you so comfortable in a leadership role- "

"Relieved, you mean."

"You can drop the cynicism. I am proud of you, and my practical side sees the advantage of this assignment. It bodes well for what's coming down the pike."

"Thank you. Then I'll admit I'm scared, at the same time appreciative for some on the job training."

"Don't be scared. You got this. And most importantly I got you."

I simper. "Thank you, for being so great. Putting up with my manic behavior. Giving me strength where I lack it-"

"I'm going to stop you right there. That's some of your best stuff. Might want to save it for the wedding vows."

I giggle. "See. You have a knack for making me smile."

"It's my job. If you're a good girl I'll make you squeal harder at lunch."

"I'm always a good girl."

"You just made my dick twitch. I'm hanging up now, before I blow a load."

Disconnecting the phone, I study the message, trying to glean some insight into why Kate hid her relationship with Luke from me. Why did he? How I could've been so, gullible. Why was I jealous. Most importantly, why am I this gutted. The questions stirring in my head, nerves flutter in the pit of my belly as excitement and anxiety rage against each other. Crumpling the sticky notes in my hand, I toss the wad into the trash can, and then I transfer the luke-warm tea to the credenza behind the desk choosing to dive straight into work, rather than harp on Luke and Kate any further.

Suddenly, my door cracks, and Luke pokes his head inside. "Is this a good time?"

I roll my eyes to the heaven. "Why not?"

"I'm submitting my resignation." Out of nowhere an unspeakable pain grips my throat. "I wanted you to be the first to know. I have about 6 months remaining on my contract, but considering the circumstances, I think it's best I step aside now," he says.

In a nonchalant motion, I sweep the tips of my fingers across the lump lodged at the base of my throat. Luke rakes his eyes over me rendering me too afraid to swallow. "I take it you're tendering it today." My whisper is strong, for once my voice doesn't betray me.

"No. When you and Mr. Grey return from your honeymoon. I don't want to risk putting a dark cloud over your celebration." Not once does he blink. His eyes stayed fixed on me the entire time he recited his rehearsed remarks, denying me the courteous of a moment to think.

I flip my hair over one shoulder. "How considerate." I cast my gaze down. My eyes misting, I dip my downcast eyes further to the page scanning the rows of blurry numbers, and then my head juts up. I shoot him a dismissive glance. "Anything else?" I bark, plowing through the thickness in my windpipe.

He shoots back, his blue eyes filled with disillusionment. "You're fitting into your new role nicely." His lips part, the slow grin tugging at the corners of his mouth revealing more of his disappointment. "A little too nicely." Luke pivots, and my chin quivers the welling tears falling. Watching his back grow further away from me, I bite my bottom lip stemming the flow of tears until he clears the threshold, closing the door softly behind him. Closing my eyes, I lick the metal taste of blood from the tiny bruise inside my bottom lip.


	61. Chapter 61: Marry Me, Marry Me

**Chapter 61: Marry Me. Marry Me**

**Disclaimer: **FSOG Belongs to EL James

**A/N:** Thank you and Enjoy

_Christian: I've read sonnets about it, listened to arias being sung about it, overheard ordinary people talking about, but I didn't recognize love until you. So, I pledge to support you. Defend you. Protect you. And above all, love you the in the way you deserve. Honestly, and without abandon._

_Ana: I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, Pablo Neruda_

* * *

I'm the last to touch down in the basement and I'm gobsmacked at the transformation. The metamorphosis of the underground chamber, to a grand spa resort is nothing short of amazing. Down to the vibe of a day spa they nailed it. The calming tones of the sea evoke tranquility, the comfy furnishings relaxation, and the clean scent of the lotions and potions serenity. My posse, my bridesmaid, Miss Jones, and mom, eyeballing me I indulge in the airiness of the luminous, and serene space.

As they weigh my reaction_, _I crane my neck peering through the support beams, counting the number of partitions lining the rear walls. There are at least one for each person, and keeping with the fantasy theme, posted above each is the name of a fairytale princess or character. Fixating on the Sleeping Beauty station, I'm reminded of the time Mia tackled the same subject matter. However, this time kitschy and sophistication intersect creating an ambience that is whimsical verses childlike.

"Okay. Say something?" Mom finally urges.

"I love it," I squeak.

The boys are at Escala for their bachelor party. It's not the rip-roaring evening Elliot had slated. Christian nixed it. He wanted a low-key affair. The paparazzi was his cover, but we knew it was a roust. If he didn't have a wild party with heavy drinking, strippers, and all around debauchery I couldn't. As if that was an option, with his housekeeper, and mother on my guest list.

"I'm glad." Snaking her arm around my waist, Grace taps her head to mine.

Fixating on the attractive women of differing ages, hues, and sizes in the background, I smile internally. Eyes had rolled at Grace's assertion that idea of an all-girl staff was hers. Those familiar with Christian's jealous streak, knew the gender specific staffing model smacked of his handiwork.

"I'm stunned, it looks nothing like your basement."

"Thank your fiancé," Grace murmurs. "Ladies can I have your attention. We're almost there, but before you make that mad dash for the massage tables, I'd like to remind you. Everything is contained to the house so, eat as much as you'd like. Drink as much as you like. You're all sleeping here tonight." There's joyous applause combined with whistling from Mia, and Jazz. "One more thing." My soon to be a mother in law tugs me tighter to her side. "Allow me to crow for a moment. I'm so proud of this young woman. I might love her more than my son- "

"We all do," Mia chimes in. Her one liner extends the hearty laughter Grace's stab at levity generated.

"In all seriousness. The Greys are elated to welcome Ana to our family." Mom drops a tender kiss on the top of my head, and I curve my arm around her torso.

"Thank you, Grace."

"One, one more thing before I set you free, I'd like to thank Jazz and Amanda for making the trip. They traveled the farthest, and we're delighted to have them with us to share in Ana's special day."

"Thank you, Mrs. Grey. We've known Ana the shorted amount of time but we love her equally as much," Jazz croaks, with Amanda cheering her on.

"We wouldn't think of being any place but here." My ears perk up at the sound of Amanda's voice. She'd been noticeably reserved.

Grace untangles our arms, and she claps. "On that note, fantasy lane is open. Ladies. Enjoy yourselves." We all disperse. Nostalgic for a piece of their childhood, each person is eager to claim her princess.

The relaxing effect of the myriad of spa treatments kicking in the chatter in the room has lowered to a snooze. Joining my nearly comatose rebel rousers, I stretch out on a lounger, and wrestling with the fluffy white robe I spot Kate in the alcove at the bar. Standing, I tighten my sash and I sidle up next to her. "Drinking alone is never advised."

Her body lurches forward, the clear liquid sloshing out of the miniature glass. "Geez I thought you everyone were sleeping," Kate bemoans.

"Nope." I brush the alcohol off her robe, before it stains. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. I've been trying to get you alone all day. What's going on with you?"

Kate tosses the shot back, making a bitter lemon face. "You have to ask?"

"I do. I don't get it. We're good, and from all appearances you and Jazz haven't skipped a beat. Yet you haven't been available to hang out with us one day."

"Are you being facetious, cause I think you have your answer."

"I want to hear it from you."

Kate wags the empty glass at the barmaid, requesting another round. "She wanted to hook up and I responded with an emphatic no. What was her take?" The bartender slides Kate's drink next to her.

"At the risk of sounding cavalier, I wasn't invested enough to ask. And please don't misconstrue my thinking, I love having them here. My wedding wouldn't be the same without them, but their presence reminds me of the past and I'm about the future"

Rimming the edge of the shot glass, Kate murmurs, "thank you for not saying I told you so."

"Are you kidding me. How many times have you let me skate by without it."

Kate's eyes light up. "You're getting married tomorrow…"

"I'm getting married tomorrow." My eyes widening, I feel, the corners of my mouth lifting into a silly grin. "Can you believe it?"

The mist glistening in her eyes, dims her light. "I can. The way he looks at you. Every woman should be the object of that kind of affection, at least once in her lifetime." The wistfulness in her voice undeniable, Kate downs another shot.

I touch her hand. "Your time will come you know…"

She sweeps her hand over her eyes, pretending she has something in them. "You know I'll never mount to more than a booty- call to him, right."

I throw my arm up. "Can I have a ginger ale please." The order placed, I turn to Kate. "Where did that come from? I didn't have him in mind. But since you brought him up, you underestimate your relationship- "

"You insist on calling it a relationship instead of what it is or was- a convenient fuck."

I suck my teeth. "You don't have to be so, crass- booty-call was sufficient. Anyway, he speaks highly of you."

"He's a gentleman. More than I can say about Elliot Grey."

Flipping my hair over one shoulder, I accept the fizzy drink from the barmaid. "Thank you." I nod. "Elliott, are we talking about fun-loving Elliot Grey. The same Elliot you were cozying up to at rehearsal?"

She snorts. "Cozy. Please, he was giving me an earful- "Gawking at me, she props an elbow on top the bar. "Did you know guys have a code- bros before hoes." Her elbow falls off the edge. "Which even applies if the bros are no more than casual acquaintances who hang out every blue moon."

"Kate… I'm not defending him. Well I guess I am. But that's not Elliot. If he was mean-spirited, it's because it hurt him. That has to mean something, right? Outrage is better than indifference." Suddenly, Kate wraps me up, and reflexively my arms close in around her.

"Thank you for your forgiveness. I didn't deserve it." She sniffles. "I don't deserve you. But I'm so thankful to have you. I am so very happy for you."

"Katherine Kavanagh, you're killing me." Pushing back out of her embrace, I wipe her cheeks with my hands, as tears trickle down my face. "I'm not used to emotional Kate. The urgency in your voice speaks to more than my upcoming nuptials. I haven't been around as much as I should. I haven't been a very good friend. But please if there is something bothering you I'm here. I'm right here for you."

"I'm just annoyed with myself. I treated our friendship carelessly, instead of with kid gloves, and I almost lost you. I can't help myself. My selfish tendencies always get in the way, and mess things up."

"Kate please. We've both made mistakes. But I'm in this position because of you. I was a hypocrite, when I froze you out. I've been selfish. Made foolish decisions that could've blown up in my face, but your fierce loyalty, and unwavering support is what held me together- "

She knocks my hands away, taking my face in her two hands. "Because I'm your sister." Our foreheads tap. "That's what sisters do." Crocodile tears rolling down her cheeks, Kate sobs. "I'd die you for." Her hands fall, and she slumps into my arms."

"What's with the talk of dying," I chortle, "and Kae I feel the same way. Now let's get it together. We're here for a wedding not a funeral."

"Look at this way, we get it out tonight, we won't have to worry about ruining our make-up tomorrow," she mumbles her face burrowing out of the too poufy shawl collar of the robe, and we guffaw through our blubbering.

* * *

**Morning of Wedding**

Gradually, rising I train my eyes on the sliver of light creeping through the planation shutters. It's the first sign of dawn. The official opening to the morning and my wedding day. Gratitude abounds, I'm mindful of the minefield I had to tread through to get to here. A smile kissing my lips, I avert my gaze from the dancing dots on the wooden slats, and flip on the lamp. My downcast eyes fall to my iPhone, just as the door creaks. Lifting my gaze, I find Grace's head poking through the crack.

"You're awake." The soft cadence of her voice is the musical interlude the morning was missing.

"Yes."

"Can I come in? she inquires, already trotting away from her perch. "I saw the light under the door, and thought I'd take a chance."

I scrunch my face. "Sleep wasn't happening, so, I just gave up."

"I didn't get much sleep either." Almost imploding from her giddiness, Grace extends her hand. "Come. I have something to show you."

She smiles at me as she speaks and catching hold of her delicate fingers I haul the blanket back with my free hand hustling out of bed. My feet land on the hardwood floor and she ushers me to in front of the window. Dropping my hand, Grace then thrusts the shutters back. I gasp at the sight of the humongous circus like white tent blanketing the sprawling grounds, the Grecian urns containing sculpted floral topiaries leading up to it, and the manicured shrubbery with the initials A and C meticulously carved into their branches framing the impressive scene.

"Wow." I repeat over and over. It's the only word I can readily access in my arsenal.

"I take it you like it."

I fan my eyes. "Like it. I love it." Her fingers curling around my trembling shoulders, I flick my hand back stroking her soft skin. "How? When… When we left rehearsal, nothing was erected."

"Christian who else-"

"I should've known."

She gives my shoulders a quick massage, and drops her hands. "It was my idea. But Christian ran with it, and well, Colin blew it out of the park-"

"Colin. No wonder he didn't crash our party. Because no one loves a mani-pedi more than Colin Cowie."

Mom chuckles. "Well he was a busy man." She says, clutching my hand. "Let's go explore. I have tea and coffee waiting for us."

"Give me a minute."

"You're fine. The early morning air is little chilly so, you may want to put on your robe. I'm only dressed…" Grace shrugs. "Let's face it I'm a prude."

I giggle. "You're not, but I wanted to call Christian-" My phone buzzes, and mom waggles her brows.

"Looks like someone has beat you to it."

"Excuse me," I chortle, and retracting my hand I bounce to the table snatching the cell pressing it to my ear. "Good morning Christian."

"Good Morning Miss Steele. Happy wedding day."

"Happy wedding day to you too." Biting my bottom lip, I turn to his mother who's beaming. "Your mom is next to me want to talk to her." Grace mouths no, and tiptoes out of the bedroom. "Too late she's gone."

"You two are up early."

"She had a surprise to show me. Thank you by the way. Just when I think you've outdone yourself, you go and do something else amazingly romantic."

"Buckle up. The best is about to come." He sighs. "Do you realize by the end of the day you will be Mrs. Christian Grey."

Swooning, I sink to the bed. "And you will be my husband."

"You know what that means, we will belong to each other forever. And ever. And ever."

I flop back on the pillow, covering my eyes with my forearm. "And ever," I purr seductively. "You Mr. Grey are unbelievable. Have I told you lately, how much I love you."

"Let's see five times last night, but who's counting- "

"You are." I smile at his admission. Against his mother's orders we snuck in several calls last night. "That's why I love you." Bolting upright, I pan his childhood bedroom for the matching robe to the "I'm The Bride" pajama set I'm wearing that the ladies gifted me at the bachelorette party.

"I love you too baby."

Landing on the sash loosely hanging from the bedpost, I stand. "I'm bum Damien and Gideon couldn't make your party."

"Baby, I'd hardly consider an evening with my dad, your dad, and Taylor a party. It was more like a bore fest."

I giggle. "Well, you can't blame Elliot-"

"Why not? I didn't want anything."

Grinning, I drift in front of the mirror above the dresser, and a faint pouch protruding through the thin cotton of my pajama bottom catches my eyes. Hooking a finger in the waistband, I drag the front down. "Luckily, Damien and Gideon are flying out right after the reception…" Angling my body from side to side, I studying my profile.

"You're distracted. What are you doing? I'm calling out Elliot and you're talking about Stark and Cross?"

The elastic waist band snapping against my stomach, I sought to change the subject entirely. "I can't wait to see you. I missed you last night."

"Me too. I made no bones about detesting the archaic custom, but in the light of a new day, there is something arousing about knowing that the next time I see you, you'll be in your wedding gown walking down the aisle to me."

"Christian I gotta go your mom's calling." I bite my bottom lip. "And by the way, ditto. I can't wait to see you for the first time waiting at the alter for me."

Disconnecting the call, I drag the sash tugging the robe with it, and then I flip on the overhead light wandering to back in front of the mirror. The phone in one hand, and the white robe skimming the floor in the other I cradle my belly swiveling from one side to the other. There's a subtle change, but nothing noticeable to the naked eye so, I blame the unflattering silhouette on the sunlight casting a shadow in the glass.

"I know what you're doing." The phone crashing to the floor, my head zooms to the door. "I apologize, I didn't mean to startle you," Miss Jones chuckles.

"Ate too much junk food at the party. Most of it nothing but salt and sugar." Babbling, I stooping to pick up my phone. "How long were you there?"

"Not long." Nudging the robe out of my hand, she whirls me to the front. "I was a bride once…" Holding the robe opened, she waits for me to punch my arm inside an armhole. "All brides agonize about their weight but Ana, you have nothing to worry about. You're thin as a rail, and even after last night your stomach is taut as a board." Sliding the robe up to my shoulders, Gail gives them a playful slap. "Campeche. Now go meet your soon to be a mother in law."

"I thought you were her."

Miss Jones hauls me to her chest, by my shoulders. "I told her I wanted to see surprise, but it was an excuse to get my time alone with you."

I break our bond. "You didn't need an excuse."

Reaching behind me, Miss Jones lugs my ponytail from inside the color of the robe. "I couldn't be more proud of you. I've had the privilege of witnessing your interactions in private. It hasn't been easy, but you've handled Mr. Grey's' mercurial moods with maturity, dignity and poise. And I'm privileged, and honored to witness your union." We hug it out and then I scramble to the foyer to meet Grace.

Touring the ceremony site mom and I bask in the newness of the morning. Fresh dew drops are dotting the freshly manicured leaves, and the air untainted by the rigors of the day is infused with the clean smell of the thousands of flowers covering the property. Tiny Swarovski crystals are mounted inside the centers of the blooms, and our initials are stitched in silver threading into the tails of the white bows tied neatly around the white chairs. I marvel at Colin's level of detail, but I gasp, my hands flying to my mouth when I spot the sky-high floral entryway to the tent. It looks like an art installation rather than a humble decoration for a wedding.

I gape at the luxurious exhibition of roses dotted with a sundry of filler flowers. "OH. My. God."

"Isn't it spectacular?"

"Oh yes." Backpedaling my head falls back and I scan the silk banner gracing the archway. It's emblazoned with, _Raising The Ordinary To The extraordinary Anastasia and Christian_. "How did Colin..."

"My son. Your fiancé. He shared it with Collin, yet I'm still in the dark."

"Christian whispered it to me, the first time we met. He said I raised the ordinary to the extraordinary…" I choke out and mom slides her around my waist.

"I remember that night well. Shall we?" Blinking back the welling tears, I nod my head.

We enter the belly of the tent, and I experience another heart-stopping moment. The lavish interior is brimming with Preston Bailey and Colin Cowie signature touches. The tables and chairs are dressed in pristine crisp white linen. Metallic silver sashes tied elegantly in a loose knot at the back, drapes the chairs. The style of flowers from the entrance is repeated in towering crystal vases anchored at the base with fresh lemons and limes cut in half. The low notes of the citruses are marrying with the high notes of the florals producing a perfume in the air befitting the aura of the space.

The fragrance teasing my nostrils, I scan the perimeter. The canvas walls are donning modern prints adorned with flowers, floral-scapes formed into our initials, and Tiffany blue kissing spheres for a bit of whimsy, and a touch of the something blue. And then my head darts up. The tufted ceiling is raining white flowersicles, and dripping with rows of opulent crystal chandeliers overseeing all the enchantment.

Mom squeezes my hand, and my head drops, capturing a patch of the wall in the corner of my eyes. "There's something else you have to see."

"Wait…" Traversing the space, I blink and the texture seems to have changed again, but the nearer I get, the more obvious it becomes. The interior walls are not canvass at all. They are covered in paper whites, explaining the layers of complexity to the fragrance in the air. "Sorry," I holler, "I had to see for my self. And, my eyes weren't playing tricks on me, the walls are made of flowers." My fingers seeking the petals, I stare across the tent at mom.

"Yes, they are." Her laughter travelling to me, she sticks her hand out.

I analyze the checkerboard design covering the ground, and just for fun I skip over the grass squares landing on the white blocks until I reach mom. "At this point, I may burst if you show me anything else mind blowing," I conclude, as I grip Grace's proffered hand.

She laughs. "I bet you were great at hopscotch."

"Not really, didn't play it," I respond, as she draws me to the table right in front of us, picking up a compact silver plaque thingy from a table setting."

"This isn't on the same level, but I think it's pretty cool." Dragging her hand free, Grace places the object in my hands. "Check it out for yourself. It replaces place cards, and it will get a second life as the wedding favor."

The header is etched with 'No Ordinary Love Ana and Christian'. In the middle, is a square with a photo inside, and beneath the photo is etched thank you Mr. and Mrs. Christian Grey. "Nice touch."

"Open it. It's a digital frame."

I flip the relatively thin cover back, and on the screen, are side by side photos of Christian and me when we were younger. I'm about six. It's fresh in my memory because I hated the green and white checkered dress with a white peter pan collar that I was forced to wear for the picture day. "This picture of Christian." I turn to Grace. "I've never seen it."

"I keep it tucked away. Christian says, he was about 8. We found it in the apartment. It was tattered, and yellowing but I kept it. His eyes…" She sniffs. "It was our reminder to nurture him a little more." She grazes my arm. "Don't worry, Christian approved it."

I scrub my fingers over his eyes. "I'm sorry, I just know how private he is- "

"He is, but amazingly Christian was very amenable when it came to the wedding. He liked the idea and viewed it as a tribute to you so, he was adamant that he wanted to contribute something special."

"Interesting." The screen scrolls to the next photo, a snapshot of Christian proposing. He's on one knee, and I'm gazing down at him. Somehow the gift manages to be very intimate, at the same time intensely private. It pulls the curtain back on our relationship, without revealing too much. "Clever," I say.

"Thank Colin the man is a genius. There's enough storage for people to download any photos they snap today."

"Nice touch."

"There are too many nice touches. Your sister in law to be already has Colin penciled in for her future nuptials. So, what if we have to mortgage the house to afford it."

"I wouldn't worry if I were you, her big brother will splurge for it." Smirking, I return the digital frame, and adjusts my sash.

"Our tea and coffee are growing cold, let's take a break." Grace escorts me through the back of the tent. "By the way, the back is the same as the front."

I peer back. "Oh yeah. The flowers are a tad different."

We kick off our shoes, and frolic through the lush grass, the blade sliding thought our manicured toes. "There's our table." In the distance is a small white table, next to the bench at the edge of the water. "We'll have a proper breakfast when the ladies rise in a couple hours"

"Surely, you jest. More like right before it's time to get made up for the wedding."

Guffawing we have a seat. "You're probably right." Sitting mom, first pours me a cup of tea, then a cup of coffee for herself. "Enough about them, this morning is about you. I wanted to provide some time for you to reflect on today. Quiet time to enjoy the moment before the crowd descends. You're instore for a rollercoaster ride- being Mrs. Christian Grey will bring with it far more scrutiny than waiting to be Mrs. Christian Grey." Grace angles her head. "There will be highs and lows with nothing in between. It is in those moments that this day will sustain you. It's meaning, the union of your undying love for each other and you'll. Remember that, and you'll be okay."

She sits back, and I lay my head on her shoulder. This woman who is not my mother, is more motherly to me than the mother who gave me life because she wants to be a mother to me. Which is why it felt natural to call her mom when she asked. But today, I am conflicted. "I love him so much. I loved him from the first moment I saw him, I was just too young to process it."

Planting a kiss on the top of my head, Grace lays the side of her face on top. "This is where you two first met. He was so, ruined that night, I thought what have I done to my child. But I look at him now. You saved him by rescuing him from himself. You brought meaning to his life."

I simper. "You. Give me too much credit."

Her head lifts. "I'm giving you sufficient amount of credit. Me showering praise on you, doesn't diminish my worth to Christian. I'm confident about my son's feelings for me. I'm his mother he has to love me, but you're a choice. He chose you, to give his heart to. Don't underestimate what that means. It takes a good woman to nurture the good in a good man who doesn't realize good resides in him." She grasps my chin between her thumb and forefinger. "You have the power." Sweeping her hand in front of me, Grace plucks wayward strands of my hair floating the wind, tucking them behind my ears. "It is said the fun of a wedding is in the planning. I agree wholeheartedly, but Mia and I co-opted your planning. Hopefully this time alone will make-up for it."

"Is there room for me?"

Peering up, I leap to my feet. "Dad." I swing my arms around him, burying my face in his chest. "It's early," I mumble

His arms cradle me. "Never too early to see my daughter on her wedding day."

"Good morning Ray, you can have my seat." Grace touches my back. "You're in good company. I'm going to investigate breakfast. We'll talk later. Ray you're invited to stay."

"Thank you, but Christian had a spread waiting for us," dad replies, and I lift my head.

"So, did you enjoy the bachelor party?"

Peeling my arms away, he leads me to the bench. "Sit." Joining me, Ray throws his arm across the back. "It wasn't too bad. It suited Carrick, and me. Maybe Jason, but I'm not sure about your fiancé and his brother. I made an early night of it." Dad scans the premises. "Everything looks nice Annie."

"Annie." I gaze up at him. "You haven't called me Annie, since first grade. You'd pick me up from school and you'd always ask- "

"How my little Annie today." Ray finishes, and caresses my cheeks. "How is my little Annie today?"

"Happy beyond belief."

"I hear a but in there, it's tiny but it's palpable."

"There is no but."

"Kiddo, you can kid a kidder, and you know what they say about a shitter, but you can't con your father."

I sigh. "I've been thinking a lot about my mother." My eyes water. " I miss her. I don't know if it's the interaction with Grace, but today, I want my mom." Ray drapes his arm over my shoulders, tugging me to him."

"I could-"

"Do nothing." I press back on his chest. "I'm not asking for an intervention. I'm overwhelmed by the emotions of the day, but I'm very pragmatic when it comes to my relationship with my mother. I've come to terms with it. My feelings are fluid. You can't fix it, and I'm not asking you to. Today I'm yearning for her, tomorrow she won't cross my mind, and if she does it won't matter. I'm stoked about celebrating my special day with the people who truly love me, and I don't count her among the number. I'm sharing with you, because it was heavy on my chest. But I'm moving forward, not backwards."

Dragging his arm back, Ray probes inside his jacket. "That's my cue. I have something for you." Hesitating he roots out a white envelope handing it to me. "Luke asked me to give this to you."

My eyes brighten, then my heart sinks. "Dad. It's my wedding day-"

"I know what today is Annie. Do you honestly believe I'd do anything to ruin this day for you? He promises it isn't anything inappropriate and I trust the young man. I'm a cantankerous old man, but I can recognize when someone needs closure."

I squeeze Ray's thigh. "Dad- "

He removes my hand. "Annie, today is about you not me."

"I understand what you're trying to do, but Luke doesn't do closure."

"The young man wouldn't have driven three hours one way if he didn't." Ray nudges the envelope into my hand. "Everyone needs closure, Annie."

My fingers tremble, as I lift the flap removing a commercial greeting card reading Congratulations on your wedding on the front, and inside is a handwritten note.

_May today bring you enormous laughter, and an abundance of love._

_From the two boys who will always hold you dear to their hearts_

_Luke, and next to his name a dog's paw._

Expecting to feel some kind of way, I'm confounded when I don't. "When did he give this to you?"

"About two days ago,"

I press the envelope to my chest, collapsing back on Ray, and staring out over the water. The Grace is anchored, and ready for her role. "All good?"

"All good." I slide the card back to him. "Destroy it for me please."

Dad kisses me on my forehead. "You're going to have a good life kiddo."

* * *

David Guetta hands Colin the microphone. We eliminated live performances from the reception, we'd risk turning our wedding into a concert, counter to the mood we were aiming for so, we settled on going with a DJ only. Okay so, the DJ is David Guetta. "Ladies and gentlemen, for the first time anywhere, I would like to present to Mr. and Mrs. Christian Grey." A remix of Stevie Wonder's _Knock Me Off My Feet _plays in the background on a loop while Christian and I stand in front of the portal soaking in the adulation of our guests. Colin gave us implicit instructions not to move until he signaled.

_I don't want to bore you with it but I love you, and there's sumptin 'bout your love that makes me weak and knocks me off my feet_ repeats for about the 4th time without any prompting from Colin so Christian secures my arm around his folded arm. "Ready," he whispers

"Please," I respond through my broad smile.

Possessively, he covers my hand with his, and today I'm proud of his outward display of ownership of me. Politely, nodding at the well-wishers we join our bridesmaids, and groomsmen who are already seated at the main table. Damien and Gideon refused to be introduced along with the bridal party them, so Colin sacked that part of the introduction.

Waiting for Colin to introduce our first dance, Christian and I push our food around on the plates. Our first dance song is, _Have I Told You Lately. _Rod Stewart's version, not Van Morrison's. We listened to a lot of songs, but kept coming back to this one. It just sat well with us. Finally, we get all the first dances behind us. Christian and I vacate the dance floor and as the party people crowd it we dispatch to opposite sides of the tent to personally thank the guests seated. But I only get through one table, before Colin is yanking me to the side.

"Be ready to throw the bouquet," he says, disappearing into thin air.

Biting my bottom lip, I scour the tent. Everyone is visible except Kate. "Ana what's wrong, you look worried," mom says.

"I need my bouquet. Kate, has it, and I can't find her."

"Oh, I just saw her. She and Elliot went to the house."

"Thank you." Thankfully, I've ditched the top layer of my dress. I'm nimbler in this shear sparkly beaded number but out of an abundance of caution I hike the hem above my stilettos, and the music thumping I teeter out of the back of the tent to inside the mansion.

Shouting is coming from the library so, I bound down the hall in the direction, but pull up at the door when I hear my name being bandied about.

_"Elliot! I can't believe you want to discuss this today of all days. They're married. What does it matter if I'm in love with Christian."_

_"The truth matters, and I'm-"_

"Ana!" Kate pales at the sight of me, her face flashing with horror.

My blood pressure soaring, I peel my fingers from the doorframe, leaving a few fake nails, buried in the wood. "Did I just hear you say you're in **LOVE** with my husband."

Elliot charges in front of me. "Ana. You weren't supposed to find out this way."

"Move. Out. Of. My. Way. Elliot." I enunciate my words, will every deliberate step until I have Elliot backed up, and he's forced to step aside. Kate and I face are to face.

"Ana. I can explain- "

"Explain what Kate- "

"Anastasia," Christian barks.

Tuning him out, I give Kate a slow unbelieving head nod. "You're in love with my husband. What the hell is there to explain!" From out of mid-air Christian snatches my hand down.

He whispers in my ear, "she's not worth it," as he lowers the hand I had weaponized to my side.

"Ana, I'm so, sorry-"

"Sorry. We're not talking about lipstick. We're talking about my husband. Sorry, doesn't cut it Kate. I trusted you. I'm done!"

"What are you saying…" Her bleak eyes drill into mine hitting nothing but stone. "Ana, please…" pleading she searches for my hand, but I recoil.

"Elliot," Christian yells. "Do something with her."

"Man, what do you expect me to do?"

"Take her home." The tonality of her voice puts a hush over the library. Her calmness cools the raging emotions, as though to signal an adult has entered the room.

"Ana don't shut me out. Talk to me." Kate sobs, as mom comes to a standstill in front of her.

"Really Kate. How could you? After everything with Lulu. You'd do this to me." Christian's me by the waist.

Water floods Kate's face dripping down her chin staining her dress. "Do not bunch me with her. I'm not like her."

"You're just like her," I retort hardheartedly.

Sweetly, Grace takes hold of her shoulders. "Katherine, you love Ana, right?" Grace says passionately, inciting Kate to nod to her confirmation. "Like a sister." Again, their heads bob up and down in sync. "Then you realize this isn't the time nor the place for such heated rhetoric. Emotions are raw. Go home. Let things calm down- "

"Blame Elliot. He had to the stir the pot. You couldn't leave well enough alone, could you?" Christian fires at his brother, and I give him a sideways glance.

"Christian please." Grace admonishes him, all the while never removing her eyes from Kate. "And Elliot please don't respond to your brother. Just take Katherine home."

Approaching them, Elliot swaddles Kate with his arms. "Let's go." He cuddles her as if they didn't just blow up my perfect wedding, and then drawing a distraught Kate from his mother's care he escorts her out of the library.

"Christian. Now I need you to go."

"Sorry mom, I'm not leaving my wife."

Grace closes the distance. "I understand. You're newlyweds. You just pledged to honor her, protect her, and take care of her." She touches Christian's arm. "You will get your chance. You are the center of her world. I'm just asking you to share the center of it with me, for merely a moment." Christian buries his lips in my hair, and I stand stock still. "My darling boy trust me, right now, you're not what your wife needs." Reading my body language, Grace changed to a less subtle approach.

His arm slackens. "I'll be outside," Christian broods.

Unabetted tears roll down my cheeks. "Oh Christian." Grace sticks her hand out. "Your handkerchief, please." A crestfallen Christian unleashes the white square from his pocket putting it in his mom's palm and the he continues out the door. Cupping my chin, Grace tilts my head up. "Kate's in love with Christian." She dabs under my eyes. "And we're surprised, why?" Dabbing my cheeks, her questioning gaze flickers over me. "It's not true love Sweetie, it's more like infatuation corrupted by jealousy. You're marrying every woman's fantasy, while she's floundering in her relationships."

"It is no excuse for what she has done."

"Perhaps. You two should discuss it. But today, I need you with me." Blotting my cheeks once more, Grace drops her hand. "Today is your day, and by proxy it's Christian's day. You can deal with Katherine tomorrow. You and Christian are owed one day without drama. So, come hell or high-water I'm not going to let anyone steal it from you. That includes Katherine, Christian or you." Adjusting my veil, Grace stoops picking up my missing bouquet. "Your face is a little blotchy. Then again you are the blushing bride. Your guests will think you were simply overcome with joy," Grace says, handing me the flowers. "Now. Sweetheart what can I do to make things better for you?"

"Get my husband."

* * *

**Luke's POV**

I sweep my arm across the threshold inviting my incomparable mother inside. "You look better than I'd expected."

"What did you expect." I grab her coat. "I'd be passed out drunk on the floor?"

"No one would blame you."

Folding the coat over a chair I set the purse on top of the breakfast bar. "Sorry to disappoint you.

Reaching up she cups the side of my jaw. "I'm your mother, you don't have to pretend with me." Her hand falls away. "How are you, sweetheart?"

"Ask me in the morning." Stomping inside the living area, I flop down on the sofa throwing my feet up on the coffee table.

Following me, mom pans the space. "So, what's the going rate to rent the last home one shares with one's ex for the day," mom says sardonically.

"What does it matter, if it works." Mom, stares at me skeptically. "How did you know I was here, anyway?"

She sits on the edge of the sofa next to me. "When you are a father, you'll understand. Parents' are tuned into their children. But mothers more so than fathers, senses are heightened when their children are hurting. I knew you would need me today, and I wasn't waiting around for you to ask. You're my beautiful blond haired, blue eyed baby boy." Her eyes shimmering with love, mom runs her hand over my head. "I miss your full head of hair. Even your sisters are envious of the thickness."

I haul her hand down. "For you, I'll grow it back."

She chuckles. "I doubt your father will approve. 'Hippy Hair' in the office." She puts air quotes around hippy hair, because it's how my father referred to my hair when I wore it longer.

"Not to my shoulders, just longer than this military cut. It'll be an appropriate length for the office." I draw my leg from the table. "You didn't answer my question how did you know I was here?"

"A calculated guess. Tracking you down wasn't easy." She falls back on the sofa. "I tried the obvious places. Checked with your friends. When my rooky snooping yielded me nothing, I fell on my mother wit- "

"And it brought you her."

"Yes. I didn't call because I knew you'd tell me not to come." Mom weaves her arm behind my back. "Riding out your ex's wedding in the last home you shared is dramatic don't you think. Are you a glutton for punishment?

"I prefer romantic, my fondest memories of us, were made right here. We were happy here."

"You are romantic. Hopeless romantic. I'm glad, you're finally admitting it."

I snort. "Listening to you, one would think I have tissue paper for feelings," I say, water leaking from eyes. "If my calculations are right, she is Mrs. Christian Grey." Before I know it, I'm caught up in my mother's embrace as she cradles my head to her chest.

"That's right baby. Let it out. It's why I'm here." Planting motherly kisses on my head, she rocks me, my gutter sounds drowning her out.

"No." I bolt upright. "I've cried enough."

"There's no such thing. You can cry as much as you want." Withdrawing her arm, mom stretches across me, plucking Kleenex sheets from the side table. "Here you go."

"What if I don't want to cry anymore."

I'm not going to placate you Luke, you know how this will go. You'll wake up in the morning and it will hurt less. The next day a little less. The day after that a lot little less."

I sniff. "This time is different mom."

She rubs my arm up and down. "I'm sure it is, but the cure is the same. Time. Just promise me you won't pull that military crap on me. Go to Iraq or something."

"You don't have to worry. I'm not going to do anything foolish. I've matured."

"Good, then I hope that means you won't return to your womanizing ways- "

"Too late."

She smiles. "I thought it would illicit a chuckle from you." Leaning forward, she picks up the envelope from the coffee table. "How did I miss this? She sent your ring back." Mom says, dangling the piece of jewelry from the tip of her finger.

"Yep."

"Talk about adding insult to injury. That girl doesn't quit," she chides, scanning the note. "However, I agree with her on this one point. The ring doesn't belong to her anymore, it belongs to your future wife. And apparently, she's in South America. Is there something you're not telling me?"

"It's a myth Ana's perpetuating to absolve herself of guilt." I snatch the note from her hands.

"Falling in love with someone else is hardly a crime, Luke."

"Then why am I being punished."

Placing the ring on top of the note, she slides her finger under my chin, tipping my head up. "Honey, if you're this pained, doing your job couldn't have been easy."

"Things got murky at times, but it always worked out, or should I say she always saw her way clear."

"Luke, let's be frank. Was it your plan, either consciously, or subconsciously to woo Ana. You thought if you continued to work for Christian Grey, and spent every day with Ana, she would come around. Eventually, she'd choose you?"

"It was never competition mom, he didn't have to compete. But all things being fair in love and war, she couldn't have chosen me. She was too invested in their past history to see herself way to the future with any other man. That's why he's there with her and I'm here with you."

* * *

_I got time she got freedom. When a heart breaks, it doesn't break even- The Script_


	62. Chapter 62

**Chapter 62:** Marry Me Pt 2

**Disclaimer:** FSOG belongs to EL James

A/N: Thank you and enjoy

_I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where._  
_I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;_  
_so I love you because I know no other way than this:_

_ where I does not exist, nor you,_  
_so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,_  
_so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep._

_Pablo Neruda_

* * *

"There you are," Hannah squeals. " Biting back tears, I angle my back to her. Ashamed I'm not the blushing bride to her happy wedding guest. " She gushes on and on about the wedding, but when she starts crowing about my appearance, I come clean.

I twist my body, and she grows silent. "The prettiest bride..." I swallow. "Is that what you were about to say. Hannah…"

Compassion curbing her chippiness, my eyes soften at the sight of him. "Hannah," Christian calls, and she wheels around. "I'd like to be alone with my wife. Please."

Hannah steps away from me without uttering another syllable, until she crosses path with Christian. "Congratulations Mr. Grey," she mumbles, shyly.

"Thank you," Christian whispers, his eyes glued to me. Seemingly covering the gap in two long strides, he drags his hand from his tuxedo pants pocket stroking my jaw.

"You make her nervous."

"Do I now." Leaning into his touch, my eyes close as his thumb brushes my jawline.

My lids peel back. Even with a flicker of wariness darkening his eyes, Christian's affection for me manages to shine through. "You knew..."

His hand drifts down to his side. "Yes," he whispers. I'd know the answer before I asked the question, but I needed to hear it from him. I was hurt, and he had to feel the pain.

Bracing myself on the surface of the wine cart, I press down too hard, and must stifle a grimace to keep from alerting Christian of my manicure mishap. "Tell me the truth." His lips form a firm line. " And Christian. I need you to be brutally honest-"

"Honest always. Brutal never."

"There's a lot on the line. I need facts. Today. My wedding day, of all the days, Kate broadsides me. There's already a sharp pain in my heart; you don't have to worry about sparing my feelings."

Christian latches on to my fingers, leading me to the sofa. "Sit." I hide my injured hand in my lap behind the other hand. "What are you hiding from me?" He reaches, and I jerk my hand away tunneling my arm behind my back. "Let me see."

"Christian it's nothing. Lost fake nails. That's all," I say. "Talk. You're stalling."

He sighs. "Kate visited me at the Heathman-"

"The Heathman." I sit upright. "Your meeting was with Kate?" My voice rises then falls a few octaves.

"No, but her visit wasn't exactly unexpected. Let's just say a tryst was inevitable-"

"Sorry, I got in your way. Or did I..." My voice cracks, but Christian dismisses my obvious discomfort, continuing with his recounting.

"During the interview, we'd flirted. It was subtle. A glance here and there, innuendos, but the intention was very explicit. The interview was timely. I was in between Subs and was bored. Katherine was her father's daughter after all. So, I'd broken my no fraternizing policy; her family ties made her a worthy distraction -"

"Mr. Kavanagh thinks of me a daughter. Am I simply a distraction?"

Irritation flashed in his eyes. "You're Mrs. Christian Grey. I believe you have your answer." Exhaling deeply, I bury my head in my hands. "What the hell?" Christian bellows, tugging the bruised hand away from my face.

"Christian. It doesn't hurt. It looks more painful than it is. If anything, it's a minor international incident, considering the throngs of people worldwide who will view our wedding photos when we release them to the press-"

"How can you joke?"

"Christian lighten up. It doesn't hurt. Really." He brings the two fingers to his lips, kissing each. "Better."

"Much better."

"Liar." I blanched. "You're patronizing me, and don't look at me with those big blue doe eyes. You're a lousy poker player. You wear your feelings on your sleeves. You're not fine. You're not better. I can be as forthcoming with you as possible, but that sharp ache. It won't dull until you have a sit-down with Katherine." He nods at the door. "What do you say we get back to our celebration?"

"I know you're anxious to move on, but I need one more question answered."

"Shoot."

"If you knew from the get go, why didn't you tell me? I have a better understanding of your caustic relationship with Kate, but for me, it doesn't solve why you kept the secret."

"Baby, the reason isn't nearly as nefarious, as your conjuring in the that beautiful mind of yours. There was no collusion. And Kate isn't the same monster as Leila. I simply didn't want to sabotage your longest and dearest friendship based on something that was a dead-end. Yes, I'd gone to the photo shoot with plans to fuck Kate. Pick up the gauntlet she'd thrown down with her shameless flirting-

"You can skip the details."

"You want brutal honesty. Here's the unfiltered truth. Katherine like every other woman who'd come into my orbit wanted to fuck me. Either because of my face, money, and power or all three. It was never about me; I was inconsequential. So, I viewed Katherine interest as little more than a crush on an idea rather than a man. Going apocalyptic on your friendship for something so benign wasn't in the cards. Now, when she started cavorting Elliot, it did become apparent to me that her feelings had crossed a line. But in no way, did I think it was Love. I didn't think she was capable of it- I thought Kate and I were cut from the same cloth. Initially, her aloofness was what intrigued me. Then I saw you, and every woman after that faded into the background, or paled in comparison." Out of nowhere a single Gerber daisy appears in his hand.

"Oh, my God. Christian. How did you do that?"

"Magic. Sometimes you just gotta believe." Leaning in, he brushes my cheeks with the petals, tucking the bloom inside my hair. "If flowers are how you measure my love, I will inundate you with them." He strokes my chin. "Believe in me baby. I'm all yours."

I throw my arms around his neck. "You Mr. Grey, are simply amazing."

"No, I'm completely enthralled with you…"

"Here you are." Colin charges inside the library, and we separate. Christian rolls his eye at him, and I leap to my feet. "I'd been looking everywhere for you. Every single woman and a few betroth ones I may add are waiting to get their hands on your magical bouquet..." Gulping, he retrieves said bouquet from the floor. "They want to replicate what you have," Colin says, drinking Christian in, pretending he's brushing off the flowers.

Christian stands. "Then nix the bouquet." He shrugs. "Go directly to Mrs. Kavanagh. For the right price, I'm certain she'd gladly design them a similar dress."

"Cute," Colin says, deadpan. "I wasn't talking about the dress."

I sneak the bouquet out of his hand, and look at Christian. He's snickering at the expense of Colin. "We were about to head back," I say to Colin.

"Not from what I just walked in on," Colin says.

"Yet you walked in any way," Christian replies, and I smack his hand.

"Colin, since you mentioned dress, I was hoping I could lose this," I say, picking at the beaded skirt.

"After the bouquet toss," he says, training his eyes on Christian. "Mr. Grey, can I interest you in a garter toss?"

"Hell no. I will not raise the hem of my wife's dress one iota, letting everyone see what is mine."

A red-faced Collin shuttles closer to me and murmurs in my ear. "I can vouch, you are one lucky lady. The man is sexy as hell when he's all macho." Plucking the bouquet from my hand, Colin returns his attention back to Christian. "But it would be so sexy. Imagine. You on one knee in front of your bride, looking very debonair in your tuxedo. Her leg is resting vicariously on your shoulder. You reach underneath her dress slowly dragging-"

"Here." I stuff the garter in Christian's hand to banish the pugnacious scowl from his face. "Problem solved, for God sakes."

"Thank you, Mrs. Grey." Chuckling, Christian secures the blue band in his hand. "Colin, can I see you for a minute," he says, gesturing with his head to the opposite end of the room. They congregate in a corner. Christian is stoic. Colin, on the other hand, is much more animated. Unfortunately, they are too far away for me to hear them converse, so I create my own scenario.

Advancing Colin claps his hand. "Okay," he says, as Christian trails him. "This is what we'll do. I'll help you change out of your dress, while your husband occupies the guests."

"You can change right next door in my dad's office. The door locks for more privacy," Christian says.

Colin hauls me out of the library, and I throw a high voltage- smile over my shoulder showing Christian my gratitude. "You're a formidable couple. I'm looking forward to following you two in the press."

"The press. What. You're pretty much part of the family."

"Sweeting talking will not garner you a discount on those high-fluting soirees you're planning to host-"

"Please." I giggle.

Locking the door, Colin sets the bundle of flowers down. "Your laughter is infectious. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Christian might have mentioned it a time or two."

"I bet. The naysayers want to characterize it. And you as naive and immature. They miss the point. To your husband, it is something entirely different. It is beguiling."

"How did you come to that astute observation."

"Darling, in my lifetime, I've been around my share of men in your husband's stratosphere, and I've been around you two. His power is loud. Yours is still, but you give as good as you get. Men like Mr. Grey who occupy the rarified space, like a challenge. They choose women who are their equals, appealing either to their loftier ideas or lesser instincts. I venture you appeal to both for him. You're not a little girl anymore Ana; you're every bit the woman he sees," he says, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Well then, let's get to it."

Colin twirls the skirt like it's a cape, as I model for him. He fawns over the simplicity of the sheath dress, complimenting Mrs. Kavanagh on her forward-thinking design. From its youthfulness, to its understated elegance. In particular, he's obsessed with the clean lines of the dress I'm sporting. The hemline is the right proportion. Hitting me slightly above the knees, elongating my toned legs without being too inappropriate. The opera length gloves are a touch of Hollywood glamor, and the ice blue sling backs, with diamond-encrusted heels, are the unexpected that kept the look fresh, and from becoming too staid," he raves.

"Can I see?"

In the mirror, I scrutinize my front as Colin styles the shoulder length veil behind my head. "Your husband made me promise not to remove this. I'm not sure what he plans to do with it, but I'd love to be a fly on the wall of your honeymoon suite to find out."

I gasp. "Colin you're killing me. Stop flirting with my husband."

Chuckling, he stands back. "Mrs. Grey. Why look like a princess when you can look priceless?" He smirks. "You look amazing. She captured you. The look is easy, and classic. And the gloves. They are the piece de resistance-"

"They are," I say, glancing at my hand. "I'd forgotten about them."

"Shall we?" Colin hands me the bouquet, and I wind my arm with his.

We enter the tent. The seated guests stand, as the oohs and ahas' commence. Then as if on cue, the lilt of a piano fills the ballroom. Our guests can't decide where to commit their allegiance. It's quite comical, watching them vacillate, until Christian's vocals put a spell on everyone in attendance including me. He's saturating my heart with love, I feel it trickling throughout my body, seeping in every crevice. Colin squeezes my arm and I nod. He escorts further inside the tent, until Christian is in my line of sight. He is seated behind a black Baby Grand Piano crooning the chorus to "Trouble". The searing lyrics are made more haunting by the desperation in his voice.

"You planned this," I whisper to Colin.

"He planned it." Colin extracts the bouquet from my hand, and unwinds our arms.

As he serenades me, I float to the piano sliding onto the bench next to him. "In case you didn't notice. You already have me, Mr. Grey." I sniffle, and he gives me a peck on the top of my head.

"Mrs. Grey, it only means I have to work twice as hard to keep you," Christian whispers, and I rest my head on his shoulder. "_I've been saved by a woman_." In his shoulder, I felt the vibration of the piano keys when he stroked them, and the reverberation of his vibrato when he belted out the melody. The texture of his singing voice is unreal. His phraseology. Every word of the short six words he sings on a loop means something.

Under thunderous applause, and audible sobs, Christian brings the primo solo performance to a closure, and taps his head to my mine. I roll up and my eyes going directly to his mother and sister. They are hysterically crying. Mr. Grey is doing his level best consoling his wife and daughter, his eldest son's absence making his task that much harder.

"Your mom and sister may not survive," I say under my breath.

He flashes them, a patent Christian Grey smile. "They will. It's the first time my family has heard me sing."

"In public?"

"At all."

"Are you serious?"

"Very." He grabs my hand. "Gloves, I can do something with these."

"Christian Grey get your head out of the gutter."

"How can I when my wife looks so damn edible," he says, glancing under the keyboard. "Here I was worried about exposing your legs."

"Christian. Don't you dare? All eyes are on us. Including Colin's."

"Then I suggest we find some place private. We could start our honeymoon early. I've already extended it by a week-"

"Four weeks," I squeal out loud, and he crashes his mouth to mine. A cacophony of sound erupts- stemware clinks, people clap, people make catcalls, and a few even stomp their feet.

"Mrs. Grey don't fight me on this. You can get away for 4 weeks. Roz can handle work," Christian mutters against my lips. "Now, let's get this honeymoon, started." Bolting to his feet, he bends down snaking his arm behind my back, and underneath my knees. He hoists me into his arms. The crowd hoots and holler as Colin rushes to the scene of the crime.

"Christian..." I start to chastise him, but change my mind, circling my arms around his neck instead.

"You can't leave it's too early. The bouquet," Colin rambles.

"Cowie, we gave you control over the wedding. The Honeymoon is ours. Have Mia throw the bouquet. Hell, you can throw it for all I care. But my wife and I are leaving." Christian heaves me up to his chest. "Look at this way, our dramatic exit will probably get you more ink than if we'd departed the old-fashion way."

"After the cake, like a normal bride and groom," Colin shouts, as Christian saunters out of the tent with me ensconced in his arms.

* * *

Unsteady on my feet, I sway somewhat. "Whoa," Christian says, coming up behind me gripping my shoulders.

"Sorry." I tap his hand.

"The water is calm. The boat is hardly moving, and you didn't drink. Why so wobbly. You're not sea sick, are you?" His fingers clench around my shoulder. "And you're tense."

I tilt my head over my shoulder. "Are you kidding me. No way. Spending our Honeymoon night on your boat near the docks where we first met is too romantic for such nonsense Mr. Grey."

"Good. I was starting to worry."

"Mm." I moan, his fingers kneading my muscles with exemplary skill. "Everything handled?"

"Yes. Flight plans changed. We leave for the city by the bay at noon tomorrow. Colin, is good. David is bringing in some musicians to join him. So, no one will miss us. It'll be like we were never there. "

I sigh. "Spain." Rolling my neck from side to side, I encourage him to carry one. "I've never been outside of the US."

"Should, I put the pilot on notice?"

"No. You've correctly mapped our Honeymoon. The shock has worn off. I'm good."

His hands slip from my shoulders to the back of the dress. "It will be an adventure." Christian tosses my hair, along with the tulle to one side and I hang onto the mass. "In the same way, tonight will be an adventure," he says, dragging the zipper down the sheath undoing the snaps on my bra. Roughly, he shoves the straps and the dress across my back. "I have an outfit for you in the bathroom. I want you to change out of this into it." Unceremoniously, he steps away and I pivot forward. He is busily working on his cufflinks as if I'm not there, so, I head to the bathroom. "And Ana." I freeze. My nickname on his tongue is still new to my ears and his authoritative tone is cold. "Keep on the veil and the heels."

Biting my bottom lip, I kick a glove out of my way, sashaying inside the cozy bathroom. Lifting the lid from the beautifully staged box on the countertop, I rub the intricately cut lace between my fingertips, and then I change out of the innocent white outfit, into something darker, and naughtier. A final inspection and I open the bathroom door striking a pose in the doorway showing off the wicked number. His gaze slowly traveling down my body, I savor the vision of him wearing little more than a cocky smirk on his face as he reclines against the headboard. "Are you happy to see me, Mr. Grey?" Teasingly, I draw tulle in front of my face." Or are you HAPPY to see me?"

"Very. Happy to see you, Mrs. Grey." Christian casts his eyes down, and back up at me. "Very. Happy," he says, pulling the shiny black strap he's holding taunt. Falling out of the pose, I step across the threshold. "No. I want you to crawl to me."

I glance down at the wooden floor and back up to him. "And why should I do that? What's in it for me?"

Christian cocks his arms behind his head. "Me." I drop to my knees. Get on all fours. And crawl. "Mrs. Grey. I wish you could see yourself. You look... wow," Christian says, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed, and patting his inner thighs. An innocuous smile touching my lips, I creep up betwixt them. To my surprise, crawling to him was as natural as breathing more than it was debasing. "Turn." Bracketed by his powerful thighs, I rise to my knees rotating in place like a prize- winning show horse. Christian then brandish's the wide satin strip in front of me before laying it across my eyes.

My fingertips grapple with the smooth fabric. At this point I'm not squeamish about being blindfolded, I trust my husband explicitly, it his beautiful face I'd be deprived of. "But I want to see you."

Tying a knot behind my head, Christian comes to my ear. "I know, but I want you to experience how much I love you. Depriving you of your ability to see will heighten your other senses. The tiny twitches in the sinew of my muscles when you stir me will be a revelation to your flesh. The heat it generates will singe the hairs on your skin as it sets a million small fires inside you, and the heady exhalation of sex in the air will choke you. And when I come inside you, your name will be the prayer on my lips I exalt when I chant in your ears." Nerve impulses pricking my skin like soiled needles tattooing his name all over my body, I incline towards his dominant aura, as he sets the mood for what's shaping up to be a darkly erotic evening. "Now. Sit back on your haunches and put your hands on your thighs palm-side down." He guides me into position, and soft music springs to life in the cabin."

"Christian."

"Yes, baby."

"Can you cut the music? You've so eloquently set the table for me. If it is to be my diet for the night-I want it straight. Unaffected by artificial noises. I want to hear the faint whimpers when you kiss-"

Ensnaring my chin Christian whips my head around, crushing his mouth to mine. Violently, he claims my mouth gnawing and sucking on lips already sore and swollen from my predilection. "Like that?" he says, freeing my face.

Panting, I lick my lips. "Uh-huh." I nod.

"And since your wishes are my desires." He kills the music rubbing his thumbs across my lips. "Your lipstick smeared." His fingers graze my cheeks, sweeping my hair and tulle out of his way. Smoothing his hand over the plain of my back, he presses down on the nape of my neck commanding my head to bow. The soft waves beat against the yacht competing with the silence in the cabin as I crave his next move.

Christian sinks his teeth into my collar. "Ah," I curse, convinced he's drawn blood or at least broken the skin.

"You're mine," he growls, as he continues the ferocious biting cross my shoulder blades. He'd lessened the pressure to generous enough to mark my skin, and make me suffer, but not torture me.

The faint flick of his wrists pierce my ears, as my bra straps descend down my arms. He catches hold of my shoulders abruptly turning me, coercing my head down his crotch until my mouth is touching his balls. Burrowing my fingers into the sinew of his thighs, I inhale one then the other. I suck, and lave until his tremors swarm across my lips, and then I start a torturous ascend eliciting guttural moans from Christian as I worship his straining member. I come to the tip, and Christian thrusts my mouth down on him. My lips collide with the base and I go to town. He explodes down my throat, his fingers rooting the veil from the nest of bobby pins. Doing away with the gauzy material, he yanks my head back kissing me harshly sucking my tongue to almost out of the socket; at the same time, his hands envelop my breasts easing them from their home. Heaving the engorged mounds in his hands, Christian appears to weigh their fullness before he extracts his tongue from my throat capturing one in his mouth.

"Oh Christian." My head lobbing back, I slide my hands in his hair tugging at his roots. Hungrily, he sucks one mound while his fingers desperately knead the other.

An erect nipple clenched between his teeth, he mumbles, "I didn't say you could touch me," and one at a time he peels my hands from his head lowering them to my sides.

"You did." I pant. "You wanted me to feel you."

"On my terms." Unsnapping the demi-cup bra, he rips it from my body, and then he rids my hear of the bobby pins put there to secure the diamond encrusted comb of the veil. Somehow, I feel lighter though the voluminous headdress weighed next to nothing. "You were a picture-perfect bride, Mrs. Grey," Christian says, tipping my head back, first kissing me gingerly, then increasing the pressure.

"And you were a very, very, very handsome groom, Mr. Grey," I murmur, and Christian slides his arms under my shoulders stunning me.

He hoists me onto the bed. "Well, thank you, Mrs. Grey. That's a lot of very." Adjusting the pillow under my head, he stretches my body out. "What do you say, we throw caution to the wind, and mess with perfection?" Straddling me Christian presses a finger inside the dip at the base of my throat. "Dirty it up a bit." Dragging the digit down the length of my torso he snakes his hand inside the almost nonexistent waistband of the thongs. "Do rude things to you," he says, pushing two fingers inside me. My back arches off the bed, as I gyrate against their length. "Mm, my wife likes that."

I roll my head from side to side. "Yesss." The affirmation drips with arousal- I almost call him master without prodding.

"Good, there's more where that came from." Spreading his fingers inside me, Christian shreds the fabric weaken by my wetness as he opens me wider for him. Sucking on my inner thighs, he murmurs, "so, wet," as he drags the remnants of my panties down my legs. They clear my heels, and he then buries his face in the junction between my thighs. Writhing beneath Christian, I fist the coverlet at my sides, as he dips his tongue inside me bringing me to the brink and back again. "Sorry. Baby. Not yet." Flipping me to my front, Christian hooks his arm around my waist forcing me back to my hands and knees, and he deliberately caresses the curvature of my spine. Supporting himself, with his forearm on my lower back, he drives a pinky into my puckered hole.

I buck. "Argh."

He presses his lips to my ear. "Relax baby. My fingers aren't lubed. I will not use anything bigger than my pinky. I'd never hurt you. You're my wife. More importantly, you're my baby," Christian says. My body sags slightly, as he pushes the finger in and out of me.

Pulling it out, he flips me yet again. "Yikes," I yelp, landing awkwardly on my back, as my limbs fly.

I hear the amusement in Christian's grin, as he makes quick work of my stilettos'. Massaging my soles, he pays added attention to my toes. He kisses each and then grabbing my legs Christian hauls me closer to the edge of the bed impaling my wetness. "What do I have inside of you?"

My lips curl from the bubbling sarcasm. "Your finger," I simper.

"Good girl." Holding me open, he penetrates me with something more tangible, thicker, and robust. "And this," Christian says, masterfully probing my walls.

"Oh, my," I moan. Things just got real. "A dildo?"

"Two for two," he says, switching up. I don't know what kinky version of his childhood games we're playing, but I'm all in. "And this?" Christian hold the rotating toy against my clit, and increasing the speed he coaxes a long moan out of me.

"Ooooh." The word vibrator flowed out of the perfect O my lips formed. The vibrator hits the floor with a thud and Christian crawls between my thighs, pushing inside me. Accepting him, I cry out.

"Name this." He grunts.

"You." I moan.

"Say my name."

"Christian. My husband." He reaches behind my head, removing the blindfold.

I blink up at him. "Correct. Mrs. Grey." He smiles down at me. "And your husband is a selfish man. He lives to see his wife come." Cradling my head, Christian bares down on me. He flexes his hips, seducing my g-spot with each deep steady stroke. The gentle rocking of The Grace setting the tempo, he makes love to me to the sound of the waves crashing to shore, and the fragrance of cut flowers from his mother's garden, comingling with a whiff of the sea and the intoxicating bouquet of our elixir.

"Hi," I say, when his eyes open.

"Hi."

"Welcome back."

Panting Christian pulls out, and rolls off me. "We didn't eat. You should be hungry. At least I hope so. There's a lavish dinner waiting for us on the upper deck."

"Thirsty. Something to drink would be nice." I peer into his soft eyes. "But honestly, what I really want is to lay here with you for a moment." Christian rolls up and hovers over me. Beads of sweat suspend from his carved torso in front of me like carats being dangled. But I avert my gaze, his fixed stare demands I meet his gaze "What." Reaching up I cup the side of his face. "Baby, are you okay." To the touch the dampness on his cheek is distinctively different from your ordinary sheen of perspiration.

He kisses the inside of my wrist. A single drop of his sweat drips onto my forehead. I feel like Icarus to close to his sun- I may disintegrate at any moment. Blindfolding me was an exercise in futility. My senses didn't need heightened. He raises my temperature just by walking into a room. "To you was it different." His eyes emblazon with love, Christian smooths the damp limp hairs from my forehead. "Making love to you for the first time as my wife. I wasn't prepared…" He casts his eyes down, and back up. "The onslaught of emotion." He shakes his head. "Whew…" Christian blinks, and I extend my other hand wiping the tears as effortlessly they pool in the corners of his cornflower blue-gray eyes.

The water trickles down my face. "There are no words... But yes... I felt it too. Baby."


	63. Chapter 63

**Chapter 63:** Someone I used to know

**Disclaimer:** FSOG belongs to EL James

**A/N:** Thank you for reading, reviewing and following. Enjoy

_Now and then I think of when we were together_

_ Like when you said you felt so happy you could die_

_ Told myself that you were right for me But felt so lonely in your company_

_But that was love and it's an ache I still remember. _

_You didn't have to cut me off_

_ I guess I didn't need that though. Now I'm just someone you used to know._ Gotye

* * *

The Greys including Christian's Grandparents are lining the top step like a crowd waiting along a parade route. "Welcome home my darlings."

"Mother, we're returning from our Honeymoon not a war."

"Smart ass," Grace retorts, hauling arguably her favorite son to her bosom. My heart tugs for Elliot who must compete with his baby brother on almost every front. But I'm not long with my inner musings Grandma Grey with her granddaughter's help collapses on me.

"Finally. It's so wonderful to meet the young woman who's stolen my grandson's heart." Gram's feeble voice matches her shriveled little body. She's terribly fragile, I'm afraid to hug her close. The Trevelyans' missed the wedding because grandmother was too sick to travel from their retirement home abroad.

"She didn't steal my heart grandmother." Christian bends down, and sweetly, cradles his grandmother's delicate face in his strong hand. "I gave it to her. On a platter," he whispers, punctuating it with a peck on her dusty pink carnation lips.

My new hubby and I heap hugs and warm greetings onto our family with the precision of a conveyer belt dispatching widgets to workers on an assembly line. Every family member properly canoodled to their level of comfortability, the welcome celebration relocates to inside the house where Grace happily shepherds her growing clan to the dining room. Instinctively, Christian and I brake at the same time. We glance at each other and back at the rows of porcelain covered serving dishes elegantly fanned out on the table.

"Mother you shouldn't have gone to the trouble. We're not staying long. We came straight from the airport here-"

"Indulge me. Eat a bite. Then you can go," Grace says.

I bat my lids at Christian signing on to his mother's request, as Elliot sidles up next to me. "Can we talk in private?"

Christian cuts his eyes at this brother, and I touch his arm. "It's okay," I say, sneaking out with Elliot.

"I want to apologize for the scene I caused at your wedding. I apologized to Christian. Mom. Now it's your turn."

"Elliot, an apology isn't necessary." I sigh. "Sure, I'd prefer to have learned about my best friend's tawdry feelings toward my husband some other way at some other venue." Winding my arm around his, I peek in his face. "In the final analysis, it was for the best-"

"You really believe that?"

"I wouldn't ask me, I'm not a trustworthy source on what I believe. I'm only trying to glean reason from the unreasonable." I squeeze his arm. "What about you? You've been suffering with the knowledge longer than me. How are you?"

Elliot unfurls our arms at the archway. "Ana, we were pawns in a broader scheme," he says, standing back letting me enter the library first.

I wait for him. "You can't make a bold statement like that, especially in that ominous tone and expect to walk away. Christian chalked it up to an infatuation."

"I doubt my brother was attempting to deceive you. His conclusion is rational- women I like falling for him isn't a new phenomenon that started with Kate."

"If there's something darker hidden in the truth. I want to know. Everything. And Elliot please don't speak in riddles, I'm not in the mood to solve a puzzle."

His face pales. "One night Kate was restless in her sleep. I thought it was your run of the mill nightmare, and was about to tap her exposed shoulder. Then she screamed out Christian's name-"

"Elliot!"

I spin in place. The scowl etching Christian's face is so deep, it's contorting it. "Christian. Please." The action of his eyes, denotes an imminent threat, but Christian retreats without another eruption. "Sorry. Go on."

"I've never seen anyone handle him in the way you do."

"My husband isn't a wild animal, and I'm not his handler."

Elliot throws his hands up. "Sorry, I meant no disrespect." Backpedaling, he braces against the arm of the sofa. "I'm just jealous. He has what I want. What I wanted with Kate." His head droops, and I rush to in front of him.

Stooping, I palm Elliot's knees. "I get why you were captivated by her. Kate is that breath of fresh air that breezes into a stale room. It has no intentions to linger. The risk of becoming stale is too great. It circulates just to stay fresh." His head pops up and the draft brings me up with it.

"Ana Banana, you're a breath of fresh air. Kate is a brewing storm. Her energy is kinetic, it's thunder, lightning, and a charge of electricity rolled into one alluring package. Kate is a force- of nature, to be reckon with, you name it. She didn't run from her sensuality she embraced it wholeheartedly. It was raw, but Kate had a tender side. The sultriness she exuded attracted me, initially. But once she granted me access to her vulnerability, the lust quickly gave way to something more significant."

"Elliot, your disappointment is palpable, as much as, I would love to bear witness to your pain, my husband isn't a patient man."

A soft chuckle appears to flow effortlessly, from his chest but I know he had to dig deep to produce it. "You're right. Before he so rudely interrupted, I was revealing what precipitated the unraveling of any hope I had for us. It jarred me at first, but it was easy for me to brush my instincts to the side. Earlier in the day Kate had been complaining mightily about Christian's dismal attitude towards her. So, naturally, I'd thought the friction between them had stalked her to her sleep. Then she started thrashing, chanting his name like she was possessed. Unable to move a muscle, helplessly, I sat back while she poured out her heart. Finally, she woke up. The whole episode felt as if it had gone on for a lifetime, but the reality was mere seconds. She tried to play it off, and I wanted to play along," he stresses, as he stands upright. "It was pitch dark in the room, but even the inkiness, could no longer conceal the truth that was in plain sight but I had willingly dismissed. I wanted to believe the simple explanations- why her emerald eyes sparkled when he entered a room, her breath hitched at the mention of his name, or any of the other subtle reactions he elicited from her.

Fervently, Elliot details his speculation that Kate had a premeditated plot to sabotage Christian and my marriage. Tears trailing down my cheeks, quietly I question why he couldn't have kept it their dirty little secret- a secret like the one between Luke and me. The words are so potent the alphabets have stingers on them. Absorbing the pain, I stand stalk still trying to understand the purpose. Why history felt a need to repeat itself? Was I negligent in learning the lessons from the past saga. This time around, I won't make the same mistakes. I will channel my despair more productively instead of internalizing it. In the meantime, I'm conflicted. Elliot plugs in the missing holes, and the rage for Kate festers. I also have empathy for the Harlot. I've been at the mercy of the emptiness left behind, in wake of losing the heart of one Christian Grey. But strangely, mostly I have guilt. Guilt, for whatever tiny role, I might have played in the shattering of our friendship.

Cleaning my face, Elliot and I rejoin the family. Soon as I appear in the doorway, Christian stands and meets me half-way. "Are you okay?" Inspecting my face, he slides his hand behind my back as if I'd crumple if he breathes too hard.

"Yes," I mumble, when I spot his grandfather's twinkling eyes.

"Ana. Sweetheart. Dear I say, you look so much healthier. Your skin is rosy. Your cheeks are fuller-"

Gram perks up. "All the signs of a happy new bride. I'd say."

Christian chuckles. "Nice save Grandmother." Winking at the two women he holds in the highest regards, Christian pulls a chair out for me.

"Never mind him. Thank you, mom, and you too grandmother for noticing. I do feel healthier."

Grandmother's veiny arthritic fingers skate along the back of my hand. The kind gesture softens my mood. "Were you sick, Sweetheart."

"Ana," Grandfather calls. Leaning into to see my face, he tells me be weary of his wife. She asks a lot of questions. If answer one be prepared for a barrage.

"I don't mind," I say.

Grandmother Trevelyan withdraws into herself. I can't discern if she's satisfied with the response or she's fallen prey to her illness. Cognizant of her diminishing mental state, the family carries on with polite table side conversation all the while retaining an eagle-eyed observation of the regal elderly woman with a crown of silvery white hair. Christian and I nibble on a bit of everything, but mainly we regale our anxious family members with tales of our honeymoon. Drawing the festivities to an end, we distribute souvenirs and promise to have the family over for dinner to view the wedding video, before Christian's Grandparents head home.

The ride to Escala is relatively quiet a mark difference from the car ride to his parents'. We had our first real disagreement since our union. Christian disliked the new name I'd chosen for SIP. He'd envisioned his recent purchase being called Grey Publishing. The name made perfect sense, after all the would be an arm of Grey Enterprise Holdings. But I was steadfast. I'd longed dreamed of having a company named after me. I had no illusions of being married, by the time, I'd formed said company so it didn't occur to me that I'd have a different sir name than Steele.

"Why are you nervous?"

Christian rotates his head from the window, he's been staring out for the greater part of the ride. "Me. Nervous. When have you known me to be nervous?"

"Never. It's why I'm inquiring." Taylor slows at the driveway, and Christian's shoulders visibly tense when he pulls into the underground garage at Escala. "Okay, Mr. Grey what is it? " Unbuckling my seatbelt, I twist my entire body to face him.

His chin points at my window. "See for yourself."

The SUV crawls to a stop, at the same time I adjust my body. A row of shiny new cars comes into view. "Christian. What am I looking at?"

"Cars." He doesn't wait for Taylor, he hops out of the SUV and in a flash, he's yanking my door back.

"I know they're cars," I say, taking his proffered hand. "I just hope it's not what I think it is. The garage already looks like an Audi Dealership with your fleet."

"Another reason they're not Audis," Christian say, escorting me closer and waving his arm in front of the row. "My wedding present to you-"

"You're kidding right. Christian, you've given me wedding presents." I hiss the "s" on the plural presents for emphasis.

"Then one more." He smirks. "Two more, or even three more won't matter." Brooding, I stare at the vehicles as he points each out. The Tesla is wine, the Audi R8 white, and the Mini Cooper red. They're all beautiful, but I don't foresee him letting me drive any of them, specifically the R8 and Mini Cooper considering his unreasonable concern for my safety. One is too fast and the other too tiny, I can already hear his arguments.

I fold my arms in front of my chest." And Christian, what am I supposed to do with these cars when you won't let me drive the two I already have."

"We can discuss later. But for now, let me help you with what you're trying to say. Thank you. Perhaps," Christian says, the corners of his mouth crooking upwards.

"You're right. Where are my manners." Standing on my tippy toes, I unfold my arms, circling them around his neck. "Thank you, dear husband," I whisper, as his energy tugs me to his lips

Accepting my tongue into his mouth, Christian flattens his palm on the middle of my spine deepening the kiss. Our heads twisting from side to side, I rake my fingers in the hairs at his nape, as his hands roam my body. One seeks purchase on the back of my head stilling me, the other grabs at my dress. The hem riding up my thighs, I moan my pleasure. His tongue controlling mine, his hands slip to the curve of my ass. He pushes me into the bulge growing in the front of his pants. A surge of heat engulfs my body. I extract my tongue to douse the flames to avoid dissolving into to a puddle of water at his feet. The soles of my shoes descending to the concrete floor of the garage, my arms slip from Christian's neck and my eyelids peel back. I peek over his shoulder and in the distance, I land on the interloper lurking in the background.

"Mr. Grey," Luke calls out, revealing himself to Christian.

Shifting his body, Christian snakes his arm around my waist. "Luke."

"Sir. T.'s taking your luggage upstairs. I'm his replacement," Luke says, as he approaches.

"You are. Well we're about to head up."

Luke nods. "Um, this is my first opportunity to congratulate you on your marriage," he says, and I raise my brows. "So, congratulations to you and M-Mis-"

"It isn't that hard Luke, just put a **s** on Mr.," Christian says, slapping Luke on his upper chest on our way past him. To his credit, Luke chuckles good-naturedly neutralizing the insipid remark.

Electing not to wade into the dangerous waters, I clench Christian's hand extracting us from the situation, and continue on our way to the elevator. "So. Mr. Grey were you worried about the cars? My reaction to them rather." We catch the elevator before it ascends. Sighing, Christian tugs me inside just as the steel doors meet. "It's too much baby," I say, flitting my thumb over his masculine soft well veined hand. "This is real life. I'd don't need gifts all the time. I'm not your girlfriend, I'm your wife-"

"Baby, I'm not confused about our circumstance you are. This is your real life, with me. I will give you presents. Lots of them. One more expensive than the next and you will like them." The elevator doors ping open at his apartment and Christian scoops me up into his arms.

I yelp. "What are you doing? Put. Me. Down," I order through my giggles.

"I'm carrying my saucy wife, across the threshold of our new home." He sets me on my feet, and my jaws gape open. "Welcome home, Mrs. Grey. Your castle awaits you," Christian says.

Appraising the palatial space, I let my eyes wander over the plush sofas anchoring the many seating groupings, and the opulent accent pieces scattered throughout. Appreciating the grandiose environment, I try to orient my vision to all the newness. "It's spectacular. It looks like Architectural Digest meets French Country."

"I consider myself a Renaissance man," Christian says giving my shoulder an encouraging squeeze, "but I have no clue if that's a good thing or not. My goal was simple. Remove the full-throated endorsement of my style, and let our home reflect more of your warmth."

"You've succeed." Stepping from under his grasp, I target the floor to ceiling windows that seem to expand the entire width of the building. "But it's ginormous."

"It should be. We annexed the unit next door. I bought it." Christian's tone is nonchalant, like he's telling me he purchased almond milk from the grocery store instead of 1%.

I peek over my shoulder, but the centrifugal force of his revelation causes my body to reverse course. "You bought the unit next door. Doubling the square feet-"

"Yes. It's why I extended our honeymoon. To give Elliot the additional week to complete the renovation, and Gia Matteo to decorate it." There's an elongated pause. "You should know, I bought all the other units on the floor."

I gawk at him. "You're telling me, the entire penthouse floor belongs to us. I was right. You do have more money than sense."

"Perhaps." He gets directly in front of me. "Relax. We're not occupying all of them, and before you castigate me hear me out. It wasn't a reckless or frivolous decision. I thought it through. You were uncomfortable with our current living arrangement. This is your home. Not a gilded cage as you're prone to calling it. I wanted you to be comfortable in our home. It is where I want us to grow old together."

"Grow old..." My enthusiasm plummets. "What about children... I'd imagine a house on a huge plot of land. With a meadow rivaling the one on the property you own on the outskirts of town..."

Christian slides his finger under my chin, nudging up. "Baby, we're newlyweds. You're leap frogging into the future. Slow down. Wait for me. Share the present with me." As he spoke his longing gaze fixated on me, demanding I stem the tears burning the back of my eyes.

"Okay." I spin, and meander some more. "Taylor and Gail," I say, dragging the tips of my fingers over the veneer of a side table.

"They have one of the units."

I give him a sideways glance. "And the others." Touching the head of a sculpture of a little boy resting his head on his mother's lap, I simper at the symbolism. At some other point, I will address it with him.

"Ryan has one and Luke has one. When Luke's contract ends next year, we will convert his into central command. For right now, it's still here in Jason's old office. As much as, I'd reveled in the idea of having you to myself, reality struck. We can't completely get rid of security, we'll always have to live with some form of close protection in our lives. And I think this solution gives us the right balance of privacy, and protection."

I'd felt the grain of every item in the room, I'd encountered on my odyssey to the bank of windows. "You've thought of everything," I say, basking in the panoramic view of Seattle.

"I tried too, but somehow I've managed to let you down,"" Christian says, advancing towards me. Fidgeting with the tie on my dress, I listen intently, as he blathers about disappointment, mansions in the sky, and turning the helipad into a meadow.

Undoing the final knot on my wrap dress, I reel around. "Do I look disappointed?" The dress drapes on my shoulders until one by one I dip them and it fall to the floor.

Stepping on the swath of fabric, Christian palms my breasts. "No. You look very fuckable Mrs. Grey," he says. "My mother has no idea how grateful I am for the few extra pounds." Kneading my swollen mounds through the gauzy material of my bra, he distracts me from the backhand compliment.

* * *

**Next Morning.**

Luke brakes precipitously to the left. The abrupt turn is purposeful, it allows an unnecessary tour of the newest toys to my fleet of cars. Therefore, I interpret the action as Luke's passive aggressive way of casting judgement on me. He doesn't have to vocalize his contempt; the interior of the SUV is ripe with his indignation. As I mentally excoriate him, we roll to a stop at the end of the garage, and our eyes lock in the rearview. The ability of his to emote the brevity of his thoughts is uncanny. "I didn't buy the darn cars," I rush out in response to his stirring gaze. A rejoinder to me he drops his eyes. Checking traffic, he turns to the right. Ripping a page from his playbook, I settle back in the seat, and riffle through my computer bag for my meeting notes.

Luke eases onto the freeway, and we coast once we're on the straightway. "From my vantage point, you sure were happy to receive them."

I look up from my scribbled writing, and stare at him in the rearview mirror. "They were a present from my husband, I wasn't going to hurt his feelings."

"Kate told me about the wedding, what went down."

"Of course, she did." Stuffing the papers back into my bag, I mumble under my breath, "must she have everything I have."

"I'm not yours remember."

"You weren't supposed to hear that," I say, cutting my eyes at him. "But sense you did, don't be coy, or act offended. This isn't a referendum on us. Honestly, it has nothing to do with you. You're a bit player, Kate is using you to stick it to me."

He snorts. "How pious Mrs. Grey. It didn't take long for you to adopt his self-centered world view. You're more pompous than you were before, you actually believe every action is a counter reaction to you." He swerves into the lane. Screeches to stop in front of sip and throws the gear into park. "Did it occur you, I was her last resort. You'd shunned her, and Elliot. Well, he was being a Prick."

"Prick. That's harsh. Considering what Kate had subjected him too, I for one think Elliot's rebuke of her didn't go far enough. You of all people, I thought would be more sympathetic to Elliot's cause-"

"Me of all people." Luke twists in his seatbelt. "Are you fucking for real. Did he perform a transplant on you? Remove every decent bone in your body replacing them with an insensitive streak. Either that was a Freudian slip, or you're toned deaf. How callous. Are you implying, that because I'm the founder and president of the support group for men who love women who love Christian I should welcome his brother with open arms." He pauses. "Where's your sympathy?"

"There you go distorting my words-"

"Oh, to the contrary. That was plain as day. He won. I lost, but this is what you don't get. From day one, I've witnessed the sibling rivalry playing out between them. Elliot is catch in his own right, but every woman he fucked wanted to fuck his brother." I wince. "I'm sorry, he's your husband now, I should be more respectful, but yes I empathize with the Elliot, but I fall short of sympathizing with him simply because of the way he's ostracizing Kate."

"What has Kate told you. It couldn't have been the truth."

"The one think, I've learned from my entanglement with you. The truth is relative. But, if you want it, you talk to Kate and you'd better make it quick. She's accepted a job with The Wall Street Journal. She'll be moving to New York Soon."

"You're telling me this why."

"You haven't change that much. You're not that disheartened. I know your heart, you want to talk to your friend."

"With friends like Kate, and Lulu, I doubt I'll ever use that word again."

Luke touches my hand. "I think she fucked up. She knows she fucked up. I'm not condoning her behavior, but the irrational part of me understands it. I get her. Loving someone who doesn't love you, causes you to lose your moral compass."

"Did you lose your moral compass, when you manipulated my father into passing along a card from you on my wedding day?"

He reclines against the door panel. "No, that felt like the most decent thing I'd done in a long time. Finally, letting you go. I could ask you the same thing-"

"You could and the answer would pretty much be the same. My conscious wouldn't allow me to marry Christian with another man's ring-"

"So, now I'm just someone you used to know- another man."

"Can we call a truce, since practically we're living together."

"A different unit in the same building is a far cry from living together."

"It's too close for comfort for me. When are you resigning?"

"Soon. When Ryan returns from his leave of absence. I don't want to leave Taylor in a bind."

"I forgot."

"Kate. Have you seen her too-"?

"Is that your roundabout way of asking have I fucked her?"

"You really don't think highly of me, or are you getting a kick out of intimidating me, breaking me down…"

"I'm done being polite, Mrs. Grey. Look where it's gotten me."

"Then I'm truly sorry, because that was your best attribute."

"Wait." I cling to the door handle. "Let me turn this off, and I'll get you."

Luke slams his door, and pulls mine all the way open. "By the way, I was asking because I was interested in Kate's well-being."

I greet Hannah, and make a beeline for my office. All eyes are on me, when I step foot inside the main office space so I backtrack and move up the meeting time. "Do you want me to call you when everyone arrives?"

"Thank you, Hannah. That would be great."

Stopping at Roz's office, I rap on the door. "Come in," she says.

I peek my head inside the crack. "Good morning."

"Hey. Welcome home, Mrs. Grey."

"Thank you." I inform her of the new time for the meeting and step away from the door to take Christian's call. "Hi baby."

"Did I tell you I love you this morning?"

I push the door to my office open. "You did," I say, walking inside the cramp space. I didn't want to have Jack's old office so, Hannah created one for me out of an abandon storage room. "But I can hear it again."

"I love you." On the other end, I hear his feet landing on top of his desk. "Having you to myself for four weeks straight was addictive. I was thinking we could retire. Go to a dessert island-"

"And live off love"

"And coconuts."

I giggle. "I wish everyone could see this playful side of you." Sliding the computer bag off my arm, I set it down on my desk.

"Nope, it would be bad for business."

"I doubt it. Can you hold for a second? I press mute. "Yes Hannah."

"Sorry to bother you, but I'd forgotten to give you these. Kate has been calling non-stop."

I take the stack of sticky notes from Hannah. "Anything else?"

She peeks out of my window. "Bob's just arriving. That's everyone," she says.

"Thanks, I'll be right out," I say, removing the call from off mute. "Gotta go. A meeting to share the news about the purchase."

"Good luck, but you won't need it. You have Roz. But I'm here," he says,

"I know." I disconnect, just as Roz peeks her head inside the office.

"Ready?"

"In a minute, I want to glance at my notes."

Roz transverses the room snatching the pages, out my hands tossing them inside the wastebasket next to my desk. "You won't need'em. Speak from your heart. People will be scared. They'll search for any evidence that you care, for guidance. Give them the respect of seeing into your eyes, not the top of your head as you talk about their future from a well-crafted meaningless note on a piece of paper. Treat them like people. If you get stuck I got you."

Heeding her wisdom, I march out with confidence. "Can I have everyone's attention please?" Heads roll up at once.

At the conclusion of the meeting, I locked myself in my office. The discussion was heavy laden, but Roz kept the discourse from deteriorating by highlight the positive aspects of the buyout. So, I hunkered down on at my desk ensuring we'd deliver on the promises we'd laid out. The audacious task coerced me into cancelling lunch with my husband. Christian wasn't thrilled, but he didn't overreact. Instead he deputized Hannah with the authority to make me eat not excluding force feeding me.

Rolling the kinks out of my neck, I drag the pink highlighter through the last sentence on the last report of my work day, and I jolt upright. Christian has barged into my office. I pop up from my chair, race around the desk, and leap on him.

"Happy to see me are you now," Christian says, catching me. My arms circle around his neck, and my legs his waist. "Not fair I was prepared reprimand you."

I whisper in his ear, "reprimand me. Please." Tilting my body, I stab my tongue down his throat, stunning Christian. He staggers backward and pins me against the wall, his hand sweeping up my skirt ripping a hole in my panties. Making quick work of his zipper, he bends at the knees bracing on the floor, and he slams into me. Grunting, I grip his neck tighter, as he cups me under curve of my ass pumping me back and forth onto his length. We pant, grunt and moan out loud until we detonate.

I lay my head, on his muscular shoulder pulsating through his blazer. "As satisfying as that was, it most certainly wasn't what I had in mind," Christian says.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize how much I'd missed having you in me." I sigh. "So, what did you have in mind Mr. Grey. Yelling at me."

"More like bending you across the desk, spanking you for making me wait, and then fucking you. Hard."

"Oh my." I lift my head. "You know what they say about best-laid plans?" I smirk.

"What do they say?"

I shrug. "I don't know." His flaccid cock slipping out of me the remnant of our quickie drains down my thighs, so, awkwardly, I climb down his body, doing my best not to exacerbate the mess.

Shaking his head, Christian stuffs himself back inside his pants, as I rummage inside my computer bag. "What are you doing?"

I draw out the wet ones. "Cleaning myself up."

"You've got to be kidding me. We must renovate your office. You need more space and a separate bathroom."

Disposing of the wipes in the trash, I start packing up. "Christian, we have a lot of changes on the to do list, and my office isn't one of them."

"Anastasia, this isn't an office. There isn't a space at Grey House this small-"

I cup the side of his face. "Baby, have you seen the building. It's not Grey House. It's modest. Hence my office."

"You've co-opted my pet name, now you're using it as a weapon against me." He puts his hands on the sides of my waist. "You, calling me baby has to be the sexiest damn thing, I've ever heard."

"I take it the two of you are dressed," Roz says, sauntering inside my office without knocking.

My hand flops to my side. "Oh, my God. You heard- "

"Roz Bailey, surely you didn't learn your poor etiquette from Grey House," Christian says, rolling his eyes at his second in command.

She flashes a winning smile at Christian, and then at me. "I maybe crude. Sometimes rude, but I'm always discreet. I didn't get to where I am, by answering such direct questions."

Adjusting his jacket, Christian glares at her. "What can we do for you Roz."

I clear my throat. "Christian. This is my office." Gesturing with his head he steps aside, as Roz goads him with her good-natured ribbing.

"Don't feel bad boss, I need to consult with you too. First Ana. It's not a big deal, but it was necessary. I made some adjustments to your timeline. To meet our online goal, time dictates that we work on staffing and branding simultaneously."

"Sounds good to me. If you give me the mock up with the changes, I will review it tonight."

"Really now," Christian mumbles, and I slip him an elbow.

"Christian, did you review the Smith proposal I emailed to you?"

"I did and it's good to go."

"There. That was harmless. So, Ana I'll meet you here at 8:30 for a meeting with the GEH marketing team, and I'll drive back with them for my meeting with Smith Incorporated at 11:00."

"That's crazy. Have both meeting at GEH, that way my wife can stay over for lunch."

"Who knew Christian Grey was so needy," Roz says.

Teasingly, I raise my hand. "Me."

Roz chuckles. "They say you learn something new every day. Well, I'll get out of here and allow you two to get going, but it would be remiss of me, if I didn't share how stoic you were in a very charged meeting. You handled everything with poise, and sensitivity."

"Thanks to you."

Roz winks at her boss. "You chose wisely Christian. Both personally, and professionally."

Beaming with pride, Christian drapes his arm over my shoulders. "Yes, I did."

Nodding, Roz heads to the door, and then she wheels around. "For future reference the walls are paper thin," she says. "Luckily everyone has gone home. Otherwise you'd have 'some 'splainin to do Lucy.' "

Against our will, we succumb to a fit of laughter, at the normally, rigid Roz Baily. Picking up my computer bag, Christian escorts from the office and phones Taylor to retrieve my work assignment from Roz. The folders, reports, and white papers stacked neatly in a pile in my new office, I freshen up and join Christian for the feast Gail has prepared for us.

After dinner, change into Christian's tattered oversized t-shirt, and make a pit stop to inside my office, on my way back to the front of the apartment. Digging out the report I need, I peek through the glass door inside Christian's office. Christian, had Elliot add me an office next to his separated by a sliding glass door. He wanted unfettered access to me- something tells me he didn't have work productivity on his mind.

"There you are," Christian says, tugging on my hem.

"Miss me already. You just saw me." Untucking the report from under my arm, I give him a love pat on top of his head. "I stop to get this."

"And what is it?"

"My homework." He hauls me down to his lap. "Christian." Kicking out my legs, I wrap an arm around his neck.

"Panty, or no panty."

"No panty."

"It's a start. Next time I want you naked."

"You're incorrigible, but I need to read this for my meeting in the morning." Kissing his forehead, I slide off his lap, to the cushion next to him and scoot to the armrest. I recline against it, and Christian grabs my ankles prying my legs apart. "What are you doing, Mr. Grey.

Peering up at me from underneath the shirt, he mutters reverently, "admiring what's mine." His eyes on me down their scorches. I sense my cheeks warming to beet red. "I love you, baby."

The hand holding the report drops to the side, dangling it over the edge of the sofa. "Ah Christian. I love you too. So, much. Please don't you ever forget it."

"I won't." He releases me, and stretches out on the other end of the sofa.

"Christian, I need to review these," I say, when his big toe nudges my wetness.

"Go ahead. Open your legs wider for me, and I'll do the rest."

"Ugh," I moan, when he rubs the pad of his toe over my clit. "Where did you learn that?"

"Where I learned it, isn't important, how well I'm doing it, is what matters."

"Oh, you're doing it well."

"Hopefully, I'm not interrupting your homework."

"You're not." In an act of cockiness, I bring the papers back up to in front of my face, and he applies more pressure to the bundle of nerves. "I give up." The papers hit the floor, as my body slinks down the armrest.

Leaning in, Christian drags me closer to him. "I was beginning to think my powers to seduce you were waning." Positioning himself on his knees, he burrows his head beneath my shirt.

"Never..." Gritting my teeth, I wind my hand around his hair as he dips his stiffened tongue inside me. My hip rises off the sofa to meet his face. Flattening his palm on my stomach, he pushes me back down, and starts sucking and biting my clit. My back sinks into the cushion, and I come.

The naughty, expression on Christian's face, is accentuated by my juices glistening around his mouth. "Married life has done wonders for your libido. You want it as often as I do," he says, assuming a seated position.

I pant. "Are you complaining Mr. Grey?"

"Hardly." Lifting his hips, Christian drags his sweats down, and his erection springs free. "On the floor."

"No. I want to kiss you first." I grip his hair, and his head snaps back. Greedily, I claim his mouth. Flipping the script, I gnaw on his tongue, until he grunts his discomfort, and I go harder. I imprison the back of his head against the headrest, as he works to unfurl my legs to across his thighs. The energy he's injecting into my veins, as he positions me over his member is like an electric shock, I can't back away from. I can only hopple towards the electrocuting currents.

"Aha," I moan through the kiss, as he sinks me down on his substantial length. Rocking against his thighs, I grind into him our lips eventually parting. I press down on the juncture where our private areas connect, controlling the motion in my hips, as I peer into his dark eyes. Every infinitesimal stroke hits its mark, making my lids heavier, but I will them open. I'm afraid to miss one solitary thing- the damp strands of hair touching his forehead, the noticeable stumble left over from our honeymoon glistening with the concoction of my cum, and saliva, and the heady regard in his eyes for me makes him a work of erotic art. He's beautiful. He's mine. My possessiveness, stoking my fire, I collapse onto his chest.

"That's it baby, come for me," Christian groans, as he twitches inside me.

I pant. "I don't know if I'll survive, if sex with you continues at this level of intensity."

Christian cradles my head to his shoulder. "You. To keep up with you, I might be forced to take you into the red room." He lugs, my head back. "I was just kidding."

A smile threatens to inch across my face, but lacking the fortitude to bring it to fruition I flop over his shoulder like a rag doll. "I'm going to visit Kate?" I grumble.

"My dick is buried balls deep in you. You can hardly breathe and you bring up Kate."

"She's been on my mind. I have to face the facts."

"Baby, there are no facts." Nudging me backward, Christian brushes the back of his knuckles along my cheeks. "You have the most beautiful porcelain skin- soft, luminous, flawless. Like you. Whatever happens, I don't want you to lose your genteel nature." He sighs. "I support your need to see Katherine. I'm guessing the heart to heart with my brother was a lost cause. Regardless, what Kate feels or doesn't feel for me, doesn't impact me in the slightest. I don't give a shit, but you do."

"You were right, I need the closure. Elliot was very enlightening, but he posed more questions than answers." I cock my head to the side. "Come to think of it, you haven't questioned me about my conversation with Elliot. It's not like you."

"Because I have no control over Katherine. I only exert control over you." Fisting my hair, Christian yanks my torso back sinking his teeth in to my nipple through the fabric of the t- shirt. He lets go, and my head falls forward. "Your body that is. Your heart. I relinquished that control the moment I fell madly in love with you. I can't begin to wield control over another woman's heart when I'm so vulnerable to yours."

I take his face in my two hands. "Christian. How can you doubt my love for you? Haven't I proven it to you time and time again."

"I don't doubt it, I'm afraid of it. Afraid I won't be able to hang on to it." Lifting his mouth to meet mine, I plant a kiss on his plump lips. Then dropping my hands, I prop one leg up.

Christian's hand flies to my knee. "No," he says, "I want you to stay bound to me."

"Baby..." I hang on to his neck, as he hooks an arm around my waist securing me to his body.

Deftly, Christian rises with me tethered to him like a spider monkey. "I'm taking you to bed Mrs. Grey." Trampling on the report he walks out of his sweat, and with deliberate steps he carries me down the hallway. We cross the threshold. The bed is insight still he pauses at the doorway, and takes me against the wall. Resting my head on his shoulder, I can't help but laugh.

"Mrs. Grey you wound me. Sweet as the sound of your giggles are, no man wants to hear his wife laugh after a good fucking."

"Sorry, it's not personal. The bed is right there- "

"Still the wall is closer." His deflating manhood slips out of me as he helps me down his body. "Where are you going," Christian says, snatching my wrist.

"To the bathroom."

He yanks on my arm. "Oh, no you don't let's see who's going to have the last laugh." Lugging me to the bed, he plops down on the edge, bending me across his lap and without preamble he rolls the hem of the t- shirt up and strikes me on a cheek.

I thrash. "Ouch. What was that for."

"Laughing at me."

"Sore sport-" He smacks the other cheek. "Christian, that was hard."

He rubs the stinging out. "If it doesn't hurt it didn't happened." he says, striking me again. "That was for working late." And as I squirm beneath his warming thighs, he rains down lashes on my behind. "In case you were wondering, that was for my pleasure, just to make your alabaster ass fire engine red." My mind flits to the deep red lipstick, fire engine red, I wore to dinner one night on our honeymoon. The intensity of the pigment explains the burning sensation on my rear, but it doesn't nothing to justify the inferno raging deep inside my core. "Are you alright?"

"I'm so turned on right now, I don't think I'll ever be alright."


	64. Chapter 64

**Chapter 64:** Send In The Clowns.

**Disclaimer:** FSOG belongs to EL James

**A/N:** Thank you for reading, following, and reviewing- Enjoy Nor

_Isn't rich_

_Are we a pair?_

_Me here, at last, on the ground_

_You in mid-air_

_Send in the Clowns- Judy Collins_

I'm resubmitting because of a glitch. If you were able to see the original listing please know this is not a new chapter- If you were unable to see the original posting is new to you- I apologize for any confusion

* * *

I raise my puny fist and let it drop to my side. Again. I can't seem to summon the courage to follow through with the simple motion. My brain is on overdrive. The butterflies in the pit of my stomach are pulling double duty. Utilizing the tricks to stave off a panic attack, I breathe in and close my eyes. I'm at SIP, then my eyes pop open to the white paneled door I'd been standing in front of for the last 5 minutes. Concentrating on the insides of the square panels of the painted door, I muse at the coping mechanism of the brain. How it reflects on random bits of your life, at the most inopportune time to aid the body in handling stress. I'm on the threshold of the belly of the beast, and my memory bank is depositing vivid snippets of my triumphant meeting at SIP.

In the spirit of transparency, I'd wanted to share the depth of my trepidation with Christian, but I couldn't. He would've overreacted, and forbade me to go. I'd finally made up my mind to confront Kate, and had won the freedom to drive myself so, as I saw it, it was best to stay quiet, and savor my series of victories than to start an unproductive fight with my husband. Plus, the Bond style planning that went into covering my tracks with the press, was reason alone to allow the face to face to commence. Since the leak of GEH's purchase of S.I.P., the media has had a renewed fascination in me. Lucky for us, the fervor has not reached the level it was when Christian and I first became engaged. Still when you're in the spotlight, any attention is too much attention. Reaching the last block on the bottom row, I fixate on the grooves as if they'd been carved by Michelangelo's hands instead of mass produced by 21st Century factory workers in Anywhere USA.

_"Good morning, we were hoping to be the first to make the announcement to you, but it has come to our attention that the news has been leaked, with that in mind, we'd like to confirm Grey Enterprise Holding's purchase of Seattle Independent Publishing. And the rumors are true, I will be the new Chief Executive Officer. Where ever your thoughts fall regarding this development, please know I will strive to earn your respect in the same way I did when I was working alongside you as your colleague. Now, let's take a high-level view of what this purchase means for you. Being part of a Global company like Grey Enterprise Holdings means having access to the best benefit and compensation package in the world; in addition to, more opportunity. However, a buyout inherently comes with its own set of challenges. Hard choices, that will impact the lives and livelihood of everyone in this room. But as your CEO, personally, I promise to do my due diligence and give every staffing decision the fairness, and compassion it deserves. Being a good corporate citizen, starts at the top. As part of your new leadership team, I wish to cultivate a culture where regardless of race, creed, color, ethnicity, or gender assignment we're all equal. This renewed focus on people, our greatest asset will play a vital role, in the branding of the new Seattle Independent Publishing as an agile and vibrant company. When we're done-_

"Are you coming in or not?" Kate says, breaking my trance.

The eyelids that had crept to a close on me, peel back to Kate propped leisurely against the doorframe. Her detached stare invites me in. "Coming in," I whisper, and like a Jeanie granting me one of my three wishes Kate flings her arm out. "It's empty in here." My words bounce off the stark walls, confirming my keen sense of awareness.

"What can I say your timing is impeccable." Closing the door, Kate trails me as I traipse further inside the room. "Another hour and you would've missed me..." Rotating her head to the side, Kate blinks at me. "I'd offer you something to drink, but as you can see, my kitchen isn't stocked for entertaining. Likewise, for a chair to sit in."

"It's fine, this isn't a friendly visit."

"It isn't." An awkward exchange of silence, echoes our stilted conversation. "Then should I go first or do you want the honor?"

"Why, are you relocating? It isn't imaginative, it's a dramatic move straight out of the movies, and frankly, more like something I'd do-"

"Your husband. Lover, now your idea. It's a clean sweep. I guess, I am after everything you have."

"Luke." I snicker. "He gossips more than tween girls." My utterance is more of a commentary than an indictment.

"In his defense, it wasn't gossiping, in as much as, vetting my side of the story. He thought he was slick, but I knew what he was doing."

I bite my bottom lip. "You still haven't answered my question. Why the move across country? Seattle isn't New York, but it isn't Mayberry either. The geography is expansive enough to ensure our lives wouldn't intersect-"

Kate holds up her hand, cutting me off. "Can we agree that this is protected space. We owe it to each to be truthful." The corners of her lips crook upward. "I'd lay good money down, that if I spread your body open, I'd fine your inner goddess doing back flips."

"Cartwheels, actually." As grotesque as the idea is, it rung with some truth, causing my voice to grow bubbly.

Kate's dispassionate gaze slips, and I can feel my expression mirroring her broadening smile, and blooming bright red cheeks, and just like that it's as if we're standing in the middle of our apartment in Portland, using humor to quell a silly spat. "The truth is, I'm moving because, I've lost the appetite, for the steady diet of Anastasia and Christian Grey that is forced fed to me through every medium imaginable." Picking my jaws up from the floor, I asses if I'm aghast at her brazen admission or the earnestness in her acrimonious tone. In an instant, she's removed the aura of friendship casting darkness over what was a light-hearted moment. It's a startled reminder that we're not in Portland, and our spat isn't silly. It is consequential. The metaphorical fork in the road.

Weighing my response, I let my eyes dart around the empty loft. It is cold and void of its characteristic charm not unlike its current owner. The burnish red tint of Kate's strawberry blonde hair against the sunlight shimmering through the bare windows is drab. Her electricity Elliot poetically waxed about is no more than a flicker, that is incapable of igniting the fieriness in her eyes. In the relatively short arc of our contentious dispute, Kate has become someone unrecognizable to me. The strong willed young woman, I'd idolized has reduced herself to a caricature bimbo who fawns over my husband.

I clench my fists. "How do I respond, to a statement that charged…"

"Honestly, and freely." In a condescending manner, Kate lifts her shoulders. "It's just you and me. Speak your mind."

"You've missed the spirit of a protected space." I enclose in air quotes, the phrase that is common place in the lexicon of college age women who self-identify as modern day feminists. "The guiding principle of a protected space is the freedom to speak truth to power, but with an almost reverent respect for your neighbor-"

"Thank you for the lesson, but I'm. Sorry. The time for niceties is long gone. Not to mention the lack of it is at a premium, and I don't want to waste a second on idle chatter that accomplishes nothing except to leave us pleasantly satisfied, but wholly unfulfilled."

"Suggestion. Next time at least lead up to the knock-out punch, instead of with it."

"You say that as if there will be a next time." Kate says, cocking her head to the side.

"What a difference a day makes. Your combative disposition is a stark contrast to your humbler attitude at the wedding."

"That's a charitable description. You mean the weeping and graveling? I'd done anything to get you to forgive me. Talk to me. My soul was at your mercy, but you showed me none. So, it is ironic that in your absence I found the absolution you'd denied me. I came to terms, with the cavalcade of emotions the revelation had thrusted on us, including the anguish I'd caused you. The disappointment. The hurt on your face is long for my lifetime." Kate touches her palm to her chest. "But I concluded falling on my sword would be a hollow offering- "

"And going to the other extreme. That was your epiphany?"

"Maintaining control, and not giving it away to you. Yes. It is the power I retained over my fate."

"Doubling down on your indecency is shameful, not powerful."

"You jump in your high horse...which horse is it today?" Rising to her toes, Kate cranes her neck and peers out the window. "Ah, the spanking new Tesla parked out front." Lowering to her feet, she glowers at me. "Well, you can jump right back in your perfect car, and gallop your way back to your perfect life, with your perfect husband and stew in your perfect home, because if you're expecting an apology from me..."

"I had no expectations, but I was optimistic. You were weighing heavily on my heart-"

"Forgive me, if I don't flock to the honey dripping from your tongue, but the heaviness on your heart was most likely heartburn related to the stories I could tell, or the lies I could reveal."

"I will acknowledge the depth of your bitterness has come as an unwelcomed surprise. It is obvious, the ferocity of it isn't something that has festered in a mere few weeks, it has propagated over years in fertile ground you've tended." My chin quivers. "Did you ever like me Kate?"

"Like you." Kate sneers at me. "I surrendered everything to you. You're not the only one, who's loved him her entire life. I was groomed for him."

"Why do people insist on objectifying my husband, like he doesn't have a free will." I roll my eyes up at the ceiling and back at her. "What are we even talking about. This isn't a Third World Country. We don't have arranged marriages.… not to mention; we've never discussed such a ridiculous notion- "

"We did. You were in on the plot."

My eyes widen. "Have you lost your grip on reality? That was college hijinks. A game. Two roommates hatching a plan to get the other one laid, by some celebrity who dissed her. I thought he was eye candy you wanted to enjoy for a night, maybe two, I had no way of knowing you wanted more."

"More. I wanted so much more." Her longing is palpable. I can't help it, despite her rampant insults, I empathize with her.

I reframe what's in mind, aiming to recalibrate our tete-a-tete. "This scene could've been avoided. That's not to say, things with you and Christian would've worked out differently…" I sigh in exasperation. "Kate, I asked you… I asked your permission-"

"You're insinuating I had a choice." We engage in a stare down. "Your happiness was paramount to me. You entering the equation made pursuing Christian a non-starter. How could I? Play the scenario out in your head. What pictures are flashing in front of you? You, moping on the couch every time Christian and I come home from a date, he calls me, or emerges from my bedroom. How was I supposed to be happy, when your heart was breaking?"

"You had me until the martyrdom. It wasn't my heart that swayed you," I chide, "it was your unsuccessful booty call to the Heathman." Kate sucks up tears she hasn't aroused. "Your outright failure to seduce Christian into fucking you was the harsh reality that drove you to your self-righteous conclusion."

Maniacal cackling, erupts from Kate with such ease, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. "Talk about the difference a day makes. A month ago, F. was a curse word to you. But look at you. Anastasia Grey, The Gritty Socialite. Is that your latest Rap Persona…" The wicked crimp at the corners of her eyes, tips me off to her devilish intent. "He told you about the Heathman. What about the meeting he had with me at Grey House."

Harnessing my insecurity, I smother the flame she's thrown. "It doesn't matter. You can't touch us. There's nothing you can do or say to cause me to question my husband's love for me."

Her eyes revel in some unknown satisfaction. "He didn't tell you. But I can agree with you, it doesn't matter. After all, his love for you isn't the weakness in your marriage. It's your love for him."

Flaunting the diamond encrusted watch, another wedding gift from Christian, facetiously, I peek at my wrist. "10 minutes. It's how long it has taken for you to broach the subject to Luke. I salute your ironclad control, and candor," I say. "Elliot was right, but he needn't worry. Your plan to sabotage my marriage was dead on arrival. Snitching to Christian, would have gained you immediate gratification and nothing more. His dislike for you is real. He'd never choose you. By never, I mean never."

"Unlike with you, Luke isn't a prop, I trot out at the first sign of trouble, or when my sneaky ego needs massaging. I wouldn't sell him out. He's more of a victim than the rest of us Ana-nites.

"You, a victim," I say, disregarding the Annite crap, it's too comical and weird to address "Since when. You're a privileged bitch-"

"Well this privileged bitch comforted you when he abandoned your ass. Held you, sat with you during the most heart-wrenching loss of your life-"

"Leave my baby, out of this!" My nostrils flare, at her insensitivity.

"I meant no disrespect, but you had the audacity to question my loyalty in servitude to you. In the last 4 years I exalted with you, and exclaimed, and I did it with pleasure and distinction, because you were my sister.

"That is blasphemy. Your sister. Instead of apologizing to me, showcasing an iota of remorse, you've utilized your defining moment as a roast demonizing me. And you expect me to subscribe to the idea that you view me in the same vein as a sister. I wouldn't marginalize the familial bond. It infers love. Listening to you, it is hard to phantom you ever liked me less more loved me. Why did you keep me around Kate? Was I a built-in boost for your ego? You were content when I was in your shadow. The only attention I could attract-mildly handsome college boys. But soon as I stepped one foot out of a shadow that loomed over me like another predator in my life, you couldn't be happy for me. I was outshining you." There's an elongated pause. "Jealousy. That's what's eroding your insides."

"That 'little light' of yours... I'd suggest you shine it on the carnage at your feet. While you're stepping. Step out of your bubble. Smell the stench of the people you've discarded."

"Is that the fight you want to have-"

"Gladly. You were content to play good-girl to my bad-girl. Bask in the glow of the halo, people hung above your head. It made it easy for you to recuse yourself of the collateral damage you inspired. We've paid dearly for crossing path with you- our happiness the de facto currency." She pins me with a disingenuous smile. "Me, Jose, Copper, Leila/Lulu-"

"You must be desperate. You'd side with people you claim to revile, in your zeal to further your baseless narrative."

"I'm dispirited by your lack of remorse. Nothing I've said has pricked your heart."

"Remorse. From me. You are growing more and more delusional."

"I'm saner than I've been in a long time. I see you clearly for who you are. Untroubled by the lives you've left in tatters, you've embraced your fairytale ending- living happily ever after. So, to you, I guess the ruination justifies the end. We've served our purpose. Soon Luke and I the last harbingers of the truth will disappear removing the remaining barriers to your successful mastermind of an illusory-life. Congratulations." We jump at the pounding on the door, combined with the booming shouts of open. "Surprise, surprise. Right on time. The top lieutenant of the Ana-nite to the rescue." Walking briskly to the door, Kate brushes my shoulder. "What. Afraid I was going to kill her," Kate says.

"You can drop the shit attitude with me," Luke barks as he storms across the threshold.

"Not the same fervor as last night when you were fucking me against every surface in the apartment, but the intensity of your outrage is sexy just the same."

Luke shoots salvos of fiery daggers at Kate, me and back at Kate. "By the snotty comments, let me guess you two have been talking at each other instead to each other. If you're going to have a prayer at solving this conundrum-"

"A conundrum is discovering you've purchased the same dress to wear to a party, as your best friend. Confessing unrequited love for that best friend's husband is nuclear warfare," I spit out.

"Touché. Ill-advised word choice, but hear me out. Up and till a month ago you were like family." Begrudgingly, Kate and I acknowledge that one truth. "Then, I've got news for you. Healthy families fight. Sometimes they don't like each other very much, but they don't throw in the towel. They work through their disagreements. If the two of you can move beyond the bluster, your discourse can become more civil and you can begin the challenging work of mending the rift that's threatening to upend a relationship you've nurtured over years. That has to count?"

"Your sentiment is admirable Luke, but-"

"Ana." I hold his gaze. "If I can work for Christian Grey, call him sir, and fetch every time he says get, then you can find it your heart to forgive Kate this one thing."

"I hate to disappoint you Luke, but it's too late to reason with your girlfriend."

Luke trains his eyes on Kate. "What have you done?"

"Me," Kate whines.

"In some ways, I can understand Ana's ignorance-"

"By Ana, you mean Mrs. Grey."

"By Ana I mean Ana," Luke retorts, unfazed by Kate's spiteful remark. "Ana didn't grow up with a sibling or in a stable home, but Kate you did. I'd expect better from you."

"I'm sorry Luke, she's taken all my "better". She's bled me bone dry, I'm sustaining on the fumes, of contempt, and loathing," Kate quips.

Stalking closer to me, Luke latches onto my fingertips, as if I'm need of the added support after Kate's vitriolic pronouncement. "I spot the identical rage, disdain, and pain in your eyes, but negative emotions rarely stir people into action. What brought you here Ana? Was it the recognition that the truth isn't simple, or pretty. It's a complicated gigantic hairy spider pouncing over Tokyo with the only way to destroyed it being even uglier. Dissecting it limb by limb, starting with the head." His hand glides up my stiffened fingers, but the massive rock on my knuckle blocks him from tightening his grip. "I get why you're grappling, Kate has said and done some hurtful things. But considering Kate's sacrifices- "

"What exactly has Kate sacrificed for me?" I whisper.

"We can agree to disagree. But can you push the animus aside…" Luke's hand slips away. "At least she hasn't slept with him."

By the time, Luke has entered in his final plea he has drifted closer to Kate. I debate their chemistry. "I'm standing here, wondering which box do I check-Laugh or cry. The bar you've set Luke is so low. There are the rare times in life when words are more lethal than the action they portray, and this my friend is one of those times. Love is a transitive verb; the action is implied" My voice hitches in my throat. "Desiring speaks to intent."

"Ana's piety is nauseating. You've made a valid point, but she can't stop looking down her nose long enough to see it. Which I find funny, seeing I'm the one who hasn't slept with anyone, which is more than I can say for her."

"Kate!"

"It's okay Luke. Ana's grown she can handle it." Kate smirks. "Want to hear my confession? Should I kneel?" Our gazes lock in mutual exasperation, and Luke and I excoriate her with our heated stares. "I had prayed for it, but apparently, God doesn't answer prayers sent up from a sinner. He saves his deference for those who gives the appearance of bathing in his blood."

The brilliancy of her emerald eyes has dulled to a putrid shade of green, and her razor-sharp wit has been reduced to uninspired sound bites, and name calling. The more disagreeable Kate becomes, the more resolute I become. "Luke put the cerebral head on top of your body to use. Not the carnal one tucked between your thighs, and you'll realize Kate doesn't sacrifice, she lies in wait. Label me a hypocrite, call me names, slut shame me, but I'm investing in my marriage. I have mad love for you Kate, but you leave me with no choice, you're a tangible threat to my marriage and my overall health- mentally, spiritually and physically. You sliced open a wound that had scabbed over, but not completely healed. History maybe repeating itself, but I refuse to repeat my mistakes. I'm trusting in my husband. What we have. So. You can tell Christian, or not tell Christian. The option is yours, because I will not beg you."

"You've never had to beg me for my capitulation."

I whip my shiny chocolate locks over the collar of my black ruffled Gucci leather bomber, hoist my new red Hermes Birkin bag up my shoulder; at the same time, I shuffle my signature Channel ballet flat clad feet. I'm acutely aware with her family's wealth, Kate can indulge in the same degree of preposterous consumerism, but that isn't the point. The point is now so can I." Sauntering to the door, I pause at Kate's ear, and with Luke guarding her other side, I whisper, "I'd think twice, before making any more reckless decisions. Your career, as well as, that of everyone in your family is at stake."

"You're a serpent in disguise," she says when I pull away from her. "You're the one lying in wait. Waiting to strike." In dramatic fashion, I falter providing her one last chance to lob her grenades at me. "I bow down to your superiority at concealing your true nature. You brandish your innocence like it's a medal of honor, only to weaponize it at your convenience." Tossing a winning glance to her over my shoulder, I curl my hand around the door knob. "Leave. Go after her. I know it's why you came." I here Kate shout to Luke, through her fake sobs.

"You don't know shit woman. I came here for you." The corners of my eyes, snag a glimpse of Kate falling into his arms, and I drudge the door back, letting it crash against the frame.


	65. Chapter 65

Chapter 65 – Adorn

**Disclaimer:** FSOG belongs to EL James.

**A/N:** Thank you for reading, reviewing, and following

_These lips can't wait to taste your skin_

_And these eyes, can't wait to see your grin_

_These fists will always protect you_

_This mind will never neglect you_

_Just let my love adorn you by Miguel_

* * *

**About 2 weeks later**

Lackadaisically, Luke ambles inside his sitting room whistling a familiar tune. "What the fuck!" Startled by the sight of me standing on my knees, on his sofa wearing a Cheshire cat grin, he freezes in his tracks, and reflexively tucks in the neatly tucked towel at his waist. "How the fuck did you get in here?"

The finger with the keyring dangling from it sprouts up. "Benefits of being the landlord."

He makes a bee-line for the sofa. "Give that to me." The teeth of the key inadvertently scratch my finger when he snatches it off.

"Ouch." I squeal. Shaking my hand, I strongly encourage him to chillax.

"You. Stay there."

Straining back on the decorative pillows of the sofa, I ogle him as he stalks away from me. "Where are you going?"

"To put on some clothes," Luke throws over his shoulders.

Hustling to the edge of the sofa, I resume inspecting his penthouse. It is ours on a much smaller scale and with more of a minimalistic slant to the decor. "Hey," I holler, "I like what you've done to the place."

"I haven't done anything." The rancor in his voice travels from his bedroom permeating my eardrum. His initial visceral reaction was expected, but I didn't predict it would mushroom into vexation. "How long were you here?"

"Not long," I say, gravitating to the out of place ornate picture frame tucked away inside the alcove. Standing, I walk to the built-in and pick it up, but Luke sneaks up behind me prying it out of my hands before I can scan the photograph.

"It's my family portrait." Demonstratively, he slams it face down on the surface of the shelf almost daring me to ask him for a glance. "It was decorated, when I moved in," he adds, his menacing breathing becoming the threesome in the room- I debate cowering to it or coming for it. "Why are you here Ana?"

Biting my bottom lip, I pivot and bat my eyelids up at him. "Gail's sister had an emergency." I tip my head to the side. "What. Disappointed, I'm not sexually repressed…"

"That's a peculiar thing for you to say, and it says more about you than me or your husband. You're married to a Dominant, if he can't satisfy you, you're shit out of luck." Strolling past me, he brushes my shoulder. "Next time call. You can't just barge in here. What if I was entertaining…"

"Hee-" Spinning around, I cover my mouth. "Oops. Did that slip out," I say, stifling the remaining giggles threatening to bubble to the surface. "Please. Girls can't play in your sandbox, not unless their family trees have been vetted to the last branch. And I'm doubtful anyone would relent to such an invasion of privacy for a one night stand."

Luke's eyes roam and then they drop to his zipper front and back up at me. "Is that what you two do in your spare time? Discuss my personal life." He yanks the refrigerator door back. "Perhaps, you are repressed?" He thrusts his head inside the opening. "Water?"

"No, thank you." Securing one for himself, he pushes back on the steel door. "The truth- "

"That's a novel concept for you."

I screw my face up at him. "Anyway, I felt cooped up."

Twisting the cap off, Luke cocks his head back, tipping the bottle up to his mouth draining it. "Your penthouse has the square footage of a mansion, a wall of floor to ceiling windows the length of a city block and you felt caged?" He tosses the empty bottle into the recycling bin. "Only you." His phone beeps, rescuing him from my acerbic response to his ridicule. "Yeah, about that. I have some bad news. I'll tell you later. Promise, I'll make it up to you." Based on Luke's cryptic responses, my mind works feverishly piecing together the other half of the intimate conversation, but like a surveillance gone awry the call ends abruptly complicating my objectives.

"Who was that," tumbles out of my mouth before I can trap it inside.

Eyeing me incredulously, Luke bolts from behind the counter. "You're coming with me." He seizes me under the arm, nominally raising my feet off the floor.

"Where?"

"You'll see." He grabs his keys from the credenza, and within a half hour, we're pulling into a development with rows of townhomes surrounded by immaculate lawns.

"Where are we?"

The engine dies. "You'll see."

I shift in my seat. "Can you stop it with the _you'll sees'_ and just tell me." Vaulting from the SUV Luke rounds the front grill, to my door. We dispatched with protocol tonight, technically he's off duty and for all intents and purposes I've been kidnapped.

Indulging him, I bridle my tongue and follow him down the narrow pavers to the front door of one of the homes. He knocks and I step back. "Ana… Mrs. Grey!"

"Surprise," Luke says

Hannah's wide-eyed expression softens to a genuine smile. "A man of his words" she says, brimming with amusement.

Inching closer, Luke taps my back. "I've been called worse," he says, in a raspy tone, and the frisky banter continues putting me in the untenable role of the interloper.

"Ahem."

Covering her embarrassment with laughter, Hannah's eyes fall on me. "Where are my manners?" Simpering, like an infatuated schoolgirl bewitched by her crush, she steps to the side. "Please. Come in."

"No, we should get back to the city. I just wanted to talk to you in person- "

I wallop Luke on the forearm. "You're a big galoot. You could've told me you had a date."

"Mrs. Grey- "

"Hannah, if there's a time you should call me Ana this would be it."

"Forgive me. This is unusual. I don't know the protocol," Hannah says, and I give her a reassuring nod. "And this isn't a date. We were simply planning to hang out. Watch TV. Listen to some music…"

"Hannah, I haven't been married that long. I can smell a date. I don't care how low-key or the location, what you've described is a date and I'm so sorry- "

"Why. I'm cool." She points to Luke.

"I'm cool," he responds.

"Everyone is cool," Hannah says,

"I'm not."

"We can live with that," Luke retorts.

"Luke." Motioning to him with her eyes, Hannah rests the side of her head on the door. "Things have a way of working themselves out. This gives me more time to devote to my work assignment. After all I want to impress by new boss." Hannah smirks.

Luke leans in. "I just so happen to have it on great authority, she's impress with you and so, am I." He whispers the last part, but I hear it, and mapping the trajectory of their lips, I perform a perfect pirouette.

A door connecting with the frame registers in my ear, and I lurch forward. "Well, that was awkward."

"Welcome to my world." He darts to the SUV, forcing me to trot after him.

I was supposed to interrogate Luke about Hannah, on the car ride back to Escala, but he cleverly pumped up the volume on the radio. Unable to resist a thumping beat, I torpedo my own plan and lead us in a version of car Karaoke instead. We hadn't done it in a while. The thorns we'd mired ourselves in had become too prickly to lift our voices in song.

Luke presses the button on the elevator. "I thought we were going back to your humble abode."

"You wanted to play pool. I don't have a pool table."

"Whut? You were listening to me," I say, sardonically. "Get out."

Rolling his eyes, Luke holds the steel doors ajar for me to enter the elevator. We're ferried to penthouse, he exits, eyeballs the room and then gestures for me to step out. "It's huge in here."

I snort. "As if this is your first visit…"

"Kind of. Someone is always buzzing in and out."

"Yeah. It's taken a while to get used to the diminish traffic flow."

"You were scared. That's why you came to my place."

"Jumpy more like it."

"It starting to make sense, but it doesn't condone your behavior… you still should've called," he says, in mid-stride.

I giggle. "Hey." I jet off after him, tagging the door to the billiard's room after him. "Can't wait to get your butt whupped. Huh?"

"Sore loser." Crossing the threshold, Luke triggers the light system. "When did you become such a trash talker? You're a chip off the old block. The shit you threw at Kate was straight from your husband's playbook?"

I sashay past him. "If Hannah's off limit, Kate's off limit," I say, "now, rack'em up."

"Yes ma'am."

My phone beeps. I fish it out of my front pocket holding to my ears. "Christian." I sing out his name.

He chuckles. "Hi baby, whatcha do'in?"

"Getting ready to whip one of your henchmen in pool."

"Yes, my cocky wife. And why is Luke with you? Something wrong?"

"Relax. Gail had an emergency with her sister and Luke stepped in."

"Good. He's doing his job. How long go was the emergency, Jason never mention it."

"Most likely, Gail didn't tell him."

"True." In the one word response, the silky texture of his voice transitions to a richer tone and through the phone I hear him reclining on the bed. "I miss you so damn much."

I cup my mouth with my hand. "I miss you too," I whisper.

"Go to the bedroom- "

I lower the phone. "Luke, I need to take this call in private."

Luke sets the cue and the pool stick on the table. "I'll leave."

"No. I'm stepping out. Continue prepping and I'll be right back," I say bouncing through the door way. "Okay mister."

"You didn't wait for me to finish. I want you buck naked, and on Skype. I'm going to watch you come. Over. And over. And over."

Backpedaling, I poke my head inside the doorway. "On second thoughts. Let's call it a night."

* * *

**The Next Day**

"We're in an excellent position to tackle staffing." I steeple my fingers, and roll back in the chair. "This is your first rodeo. Your reluctance is understandable, but short sighted. Seems like you've prepared everyone for a reduction in force but you," Ros says, tapping the pen to her note pad. "If we're going to attract top talent, we must purge the company of low performers."

I drop my hands. "It's not that. The approach has the stink of ruthlessness, it's not what I'd promised. We'd promised."

"Low performers are rotten apples that will infest the entire barrel. They will morally bankrupt your company with their poor attitude, and job performance. This company will have your name on it. I thought you wanted to take it in a different direction. After all it's why I'm here. If you're staying with the status quo, we might as well, nix the branding."

"I'm getting closer to your side so, what's the process?"

"We'll start with the arduous task of ranking each talent. I recommend a strategic approach, instead of a one size fits all. Concentrate on the lower 10- 20% of the entire company, regardless of the department. I've had discussions with Christian." Ros doles out her report. "He has agreed to add an infusion of cash to our budget to lessen the burden of everyone impacted. So, that's the kit glove. The additional money will go towards training, job placement, and a lucrative employee buyout package." I flip through the three-page budget.

"You have your ducks in a row," I say, flicking the report to in front of her.

"I try," Ros says, "SIP's HR Department will lead the effort, but I'd like to involve GEH's too. I trust their seniority. Strong leadership in the HR ranks will be crucial?"

"Ros, I wasn't aware of your conversation with Christian. I realize GEH is our financier, but this isn't simply a passion project for me. I want to be involved in every segment of the business. So, going forward I ask that you please keep me in the loop when you have discussions with the leadership team at GEH regarding matters that pertains to SIP."

"Will do. I met no disrespect."

"No worries. It's my issue..." I peek at the agenda. "Um. We're finished with old business can we move onto new business?"

"Sure," Ros says.

"Let's end the meeting on a positive note. Retention. I'd like to introduce Lean Six Sigma. Get a Black Belt Certification program going- "

"I'm sorry all that went over my head. What is it?" Hannah chimes in.

"The one thing recent MBA Grads have to show for their overly inflated degrees."

"Why so cynical you have a MBA," I say to Ros.

"Exactly why I know from whence I speak, but please go ahead and explain away." Sardonically, Ros flops the back in her chair. I recite the text book definitions, and right away she pops up covering Hannah's hand. "Don't, worry. I'll mentor you on it," she says to Hannah, in response to her dazed and confused demeanor.

"But, you're my mentor."

"Mrs. Grey, I walk, talk, and chew gum at the same time, a pretty good predictor of my capabilities. I'm fairly sure I can mentor two people at the same time."

"You told me." I give her two finger snaps, and a neck roll and we howl with laughter.

"On that note ladies, I'm out of here." Ros stands.

Alone with Hannah, I apologize for the umpteenth time. "Ana, you didn't stop our wedding, you postponed a date. You're good."

"I just didn't want to you to think I did it on purpose.

"Why would I, that's silly," Hannah says.

Luke knocks first then he peeps inside the door. "Ready to go? It's getting late." I'd barricaded myself in the office clearing my schedule. Christian is due back home tomorrow, and I didn't want work infringing on our reunion.

I study Luke's face, then throw the pen down. "Screw it, let's blow this popsicle stand."

Luke puts me in the elevator and stands guard as it whizzes me away. He stayed behind to have a private conference call with Taylor. The elevator doors ping open, and I'm greeted by the clean sensual bouquet of verbena and lemongrass wafting inside the steel box. But it is the striking sight glowing in the window that wows me. A profusion of flickering candles casting fluid shapes on the walls and ceiling. Riveted by the scene, I transfer the backpack to my shoulder and creep across the threshold.

"Hi baby," Christian says, seemingly, materializing out of thin air.

The backpack crashing to the floor, I run to him like I'd been wandering in the sweltering wilderness for 40 days, and he's the cold drink of water I'd prayed for. "You're home." Flinging my arms around his neck, I sneer his waist in my legs, sobbing into his shirt.

His arms flies around me "Yes," he whispers and then nuzzles his nose in my skin. "You smell of home."

I recline back in his embrace. "You didn't call me," I say, sniffling.

"Simple. I wanted to surprise you, and you Mrs. Grey didn't disappoint. Your reaction is the reception I was hoping for… Do you have any idea how besotted I am with you? I couldn't stay awa-" I jab my tongue inside his mouth. To him I smell of home, and to me he tastes of the toxic-dulcet passion he has for me. His tongue dominates my tongue wrenching control from me. Supporting my back in the middle of my shoulder blades, he lulls my body backwards. "I had to come home early." Shifting his hand, Christian sneaks it to in front of my face dabbing my eyes.

"Besotted, huh." I scrunch my face. "What a fancy word Mr. Grey." Hoisting me up his body, Christian charges to the hallway.

I giggle. "Where are you going? Dinner's on the table… The candles."

"We'll eat in bed. Right now, I'm ravenous for my wife's body. Perhaps, I'll eat off your body." Pausing he deftly switches me to across his shoulder.

"Yikes." I squeal, and he swats me on the butt.

Hurrying his pace, Christian kicks in the bedroom door. Ironically, it is absent of any of the scented candles. I'm not complaining, I prefer his distinctive clean masculine scent pervading my nostrils compared to any manmade fragrance. He stalks to the bed, either too needy or too lazy to bother with drawing down the linens, he lays me flat on the duvet. He is gentle, and almost reverential in the way his eyes adorn me, as he straddles me at the waist. In the soft dusk of the early night filtering through the windows, I study his profile. "You are utterly breath taking."

Christian slips his finger inside the opening of my blouse. "If I am breath taking, you are the most exquisite creature, on the planet." Dipping his head, he runs the tip of his tongue along my collar bone, and as I rake my nails against his scalp he goes to work undoing the buttons on my blouse. The faint abrasiveness of the crepe silk brushes against my hypersensitive skin when he smooths the plackets to the side revealing my bra. Sitting back on his hind legs, Christian flicks the front clasp delivering engorged globes to himself on a palpitating-skin laden platter. "I've missed you. Missed these." Palming the swollen mounds, he kneads them violently. "I'm never leaving town without you again. I don't care what's on your plate. You will rearrange your schedule."

Grimacing internally, longingly I gaze up at him. "Okay."

Crawling down my body, Christian gingerly drags his manicured fingernails down the length of my thighs and climbs off the bed. Standing he removes my shoes, slacks and panties then he proceeds to undress. I Prop an arm behind my head, and bit by bit I drink in Christian's physique until he's fully disrobed. His veined erection curving slightly to the left, he pitches forward tracing an imaginary circle at the junction of my thighs. "Your skin is damp, and oh so soft. Right here." Marking the spot with the same finger, he leans in closer sucking the area nearly breaching my entrance with the tip of his tongue.

"Christian. Please. Don't tease me."

His head rolls up. "What if I teased you here." His eyes piercing my eyes, Christian coerces my thighs apart impaling me with his finger.

Gasping, my arm collapses. "How do you do that... hit me there. The first time. Every time..."

"I know my wife's body. What makes her hum. What makes her crescendo," he says, massaging the delicate erogenous zone hidden deep inside my womanhood. He makes my body convulse. On cue. With one finger. Damn him.

Dislodging the drenched digit, he paints the pucker of my lips with the thin viscous residue, slipping it through the O they have formed. "Mm."

Quickly, retracting the digit, he slurps it into his mouth. "Yes. Very tasty."

Commenting on the flood of pleasure he's extracted from my body, Christian kneels in the saturated area pushing inside me. I buck, and he thrusts his tongue to the depth of my throat forcing my torso back down to the bed. Cradling my head, he punishes my core, demanding I meet him stroke for stroke.

Baring down on me, he compels my eyes to pop open just to confirm the floating sensation isn't me dying. "Aahh," I moan, the swaying lines of the figures on the ceiling fading in and out.

"I love you baby." His puissant declaration pinning my weightless body to the bed, he dips a finger in betwixt our sacred connection. "Come for me Ana," Christian mutters, as if it isn't a forgone conclusion.

Digging my nails into the sinew of his back, I rise and crash to the tempo of music, I didn't realize was serenading us in the background. "What did I do, to deserve you." Panting, I stare up at him. "This life…"

Christian rubs the tip of my nose with his damp snout. "You don't deserve me. You. My love deserves better than me. A better life than this one."

I pour over his angular face, and the veracity of his earthly beauty nearly burns my eyes. "Why me? You could have any woman in this world, why choose me. Why do you love me?" A single bead of sweat drops from his forehead to mine.

For the longest time, he stares at me quenching my skin with the perspiration dripping from his glistening skin and then he does a dismount from the bed. "Get cleaned up. Meet me in the closet."

He disappears before I have a chance to throw out my best line. "Aren't you supposed to come out of the closet," I murmur under my breath cracking myself up as I scramble out of bed.

Restored to relative cleanliness I traipse to the walk-in closet. If our penthouse is a mansion our closet is a single-family dwelling, and Christian is in the middle of it. "Not fair. Your dressed and I 'm not." He's wearing his Dom jeans, unbuttoned at the top, and hanging sinfully low off his hips.

Traversing the closet, he hauls me inside. "This exercise isn't about me." Moving me to in the center of the floor length mirror, he untucks my towel letting it tumble to the floor.

My eyes fall to my midriff. "Well. This is uncomfortable."

Christian squeezes my shoulders. "No talking," he orders, and in the looking glass, I follow his eyes as they trace my silhouette. "How could I not love you? How could I not choose you? Look at you. You are God's template."

"Oh, Christian that's so sweet."

"Anastasia Grey. You are hopeless. Forget submission, you can't follow directions."

The corners of my lips curl up and then down when he scolds me with his eyes. "Okay." I zip my mouth with my fingers. "I promise to be quiet."

His grey eyes blaze from stern, to smiling, to solemn. "The juxtaposition of your luscious brown locks against your flawless porcelain skin, and the way it frames soulful blues eyes that beguiled me the moment they breached my prayers, is why I love you," Christian says, and I fidget with my hands to stay mum. "I love you because of the enviable slope of your nose that leads to an adorable mouth that arouses, challenges and advocates for me." He slides his finger underneath my chin. "Who, knew a chin could ignite such passion. The angle of it. The way it draws my eyes to the column of your neck that elongates like a swan- elegant and regal." His fingertip outlining the profile, and he presses one into the indention at the base. "I love you because, this is the idea receptacle to dip my tongue into slurping your bath water from your skin." I swoon from his weighty soliloquy, and buttery delivery, driving him to modulate my slumping posture. "Your clavicle. The swell of your breasts, the way they rise and fall when you're sleeping is why I love you." A hand slips splaying my stomach, and involuntarily my muscles tense. "I love you because you nurtured our baby in here-"

"Christian…" I barely get his name past the lump in my throat.

"Don't cry. I'm here. Where I should've been. By your side."

My hand clasp his. "Oh. Christian I have so much I want to say to you." The damn breaks, as the rawness of the moment cloaks us in its sincerity.

Transgressing on the reverent silence, he guides our hands across the plain of my abdomen to my pubic area skimming the peach fuzz. "Right here is my sanctuary. The sacred nectar enshrouded between your thighs is what has saved me. It is why I love you." Dropping to his knees, he caresses my gams. "Your tone legs connecting to an ass that is a siren call to me, is why I love you. Finally, your feet. Feet I worship at, is why I love you." He stands upright, and in the mirror the colors of our eyes blend together creating the warmest shade of blue grey imaginable. "Of all your glorious attributes, the things I love the most about you are tucked safely away in your strong-willed shell. Your giving heart, pure soul, clear conscious, and keen mind." Sliding in front of me, he blocks the mirror. "I love you because, I'm incompetent at not loving you and choosing you wasn't a choice God molded you out of dust for me. Anastasia Rose Steele Grey, you give me life. I'd die without your love. I love you because every perfect imperfection is reminder that your body is the temple, I exalt at-" Abruptly, he kneels in an unsettling demonstration of submission.

Minus his finesse and dexterity, I drop to my knees. "Christian. Baby." I grasp his bowed head in between my two hands, gradually raising his downcast eyes to meet mine. "I promise to cherish the heart you've entrusted with me. I've been blessed beyond measure. All of you belongs to me."

His muscular arms overtake mine, and he rubs his thumbs over the moisture collecting on my face. "Finally. My wife gets it. My love for her is internal."

* * *

**The next day**

The sun beating down on me, wakes me from my slumber, and groggily I peel my lids back. Christian is gazing down at me endearingly. "A nap was a bad idea." Slowly I scoot my listless body up the headboard. "It's zapped me of my energy," I say, smacking my lip in a very unladylike manner.

"You had no energy to zap." Christian touches his knuckles to my forehead. "It's not sitting well with me, your still exhibiting signs of lethargy. Perhaps it's time to get a second opinion."

I remove his hand. "You're a worry wart."

"I'm a concerned husband. If we hadn't invited mom and Mia for lunch, I wouldn't let you out of bed. You work too much."

"Christian I'm exhausted, because you wouldn't let me out of bed. Remember last night."

"How did you do that, shift the blame from you to me."

I kick the covers off my feet. "Magic."

"Magic, huh." Leaning across me, he come back with a glass bowl of plain yogurt and fresh blueberries. "What about this for magic."

"But I've eaten breakfast."

"Despite your assertion, yogurt isn't breakfast. It's a snack. Gail foresaw, your need for fuel," he says, digging into the creamy goodness.

"Oh. Speaking of Gail, I'd been thinking." Christian stuffs a spoonful of the concoction into my mouth.

"Nothing good can come from you thinking."

"Ha. Ha. Ha-" Christian jams another spoonful into my mouth.

Chewing, I wave him off. "No more. Stop feeding me,"

Reluctantly, Christian returns the bowl to the bedside table. "Go ahead."

"I want to hire Gail some help."

"Hire a second housekeeper for here."

"I've discussed that option and she's not having it- "

"So, you want to circumvent Gail, and hire her a housekeeper." A wry smile skims his lips. "Anastasia Grey, you are a sly one," he boasts, as if he's a Svengali and I'm his quick-learner ingenue. "But it is an interesting concept, a housekeeper for our housekeeper?"

"I feel guilty. Gail has to care for two homes."

"You don't need my permission; the household staffing is your thing."

"My thing. Why, because I'm the little woman."

"You are an incorrigible woman." Latching onto my ankles he positions my legs so, they scissor him and he hauls me down the headboard. My wetness collides with the roughness of his jeans, and Christian stands. "You're exhausted. Remember."

His swagger when he saunters out of our bedroom, is infuriating. I curse the sexual-expertise voodoo my husband has on my body. Taking a cleansing breath, I slide down the bed. Finding my footing, I hurry to the bathroom, and vacillate- cold or hot water.

Adhering to the time crush, I rush out of the shower, and dress with the same expediency as I bathed. I twist my damp tresses into a messy chignon, grab the soiled dishes, and skedaddle down the hallway in a cotton sweat suit, and converse. "Here you go Gail."

""Mrs. Grey- "

"Before you object, it only made sense. I was coming to the kitchen," I say, skipping into Christian's open arm.

"Someone must be feeling better." He situates me between his thighs.

"Uh-huh."

"Here too." His hand slips to my bottom, and I flinch.

"Christian…"

"It's alright baby, we're newlyweds, spontaneous fondling is mandatory." Gail chuckles.

"Please do not encourage him."

Laughing Gail leans across the countertop. "Let me review the lunch menu with you, and I'll be out of your hair."

"The table looks amazing by the way. The table-scape is one of your best one."

"I might've gotten some inspiration from your wedding," Gail says. She leaves and five minutes later mom and Mia are walking off the elevator.

Perfunctory hugs and kisses out of the way, Mia avails herself of our home. "I can't get over this place." She stops twirling. "I'm relocating to the other wing- "

"Good to know, I'll have your bags sent over," her mother replies.

Behaving like a brat, Mia stomps her feet on her way to the table. "You can switch," Christian says, dragging her chair out for her. "You, big baby." Kissing his sister on top of her head he beats it to his seat.

She raises her arms above her head and bows. "Hail to Queen Ana, for converting Mr. Grumpy pants into a human being."

Christian draws his chair closer to the table. Pursing my lips, I cover his hand. "Don't pout baby, you'll always be Mr. Grumpy pants to me."

"Really." Christian waggles his eyebrows.

"Oh God, please get a room," Mia whines.

"We will, soon as you leave," Christian quips.

Casting sharp glances at her children, Grace spreads her napkin across her lap. "I apologize for the rush, but your father is waiting- "

"Mother, we could've rescheduled."

"Nonsense. Everyone's schedule is jam packed, and the Gala is right on the horizon. We'll make this a working lunch instead of eating and then meeting."

"Sounds like a plan." Recollecting my etiquette training, I pass the salad to my left. "So, mom what's the update on the Gala? Sorry, I've been out of the loop."

Grace loads the tong with green leaves dumping them onto her plate. "Thanks to Colin we're mostly on schedule."

"Are we his bank," Christian says, drenching the defenseless mixed baby greens with dressing.

"Say what you will, he's worth every penny- "

"If we were paying him in pennies, I'd be unconcerned."

Ignoring Christian, Grace focuses on me. "Let me toss the question back at you. What's the update on the sisters?"

"Well, I'm pleased to share, they will be able to attend the Gala."

"How much did it cost Christian," Mia says, piling the lobster quiche onto her plate.

"Nothing monetary wise, his threats were the financial enticement the Department of Protective Services needed." I rub small circles on the back of Christian's shoulder.

"I'm glad it worked out. But I hate to report, due to the temporary structure Colin is having erected on the grounds there will be limited play area for the children," Grace says.

"That works out, I'm conceptualizing a different experience than when I attended- "

"Worried some little girl is going to take your husband from you," Mia says, through her giggles.

Christian taps his fork on her plate. "You wanted Mr. Grumpy Pants." He flashes her a patent Christian Grey glare. "Well, you've got him."

"C'mon you have to admit it was funny."

"It was funny Mia," I say

"Continue Ana, if we wait for my two grown children to grow up, I'm afraid we could be here all day."

"Well, I'd envisioned a more well-rounded experience. In addition to games, we will provide counseling, have college recruiters on staff, and a wellness center on the premises. The Gala highlights their circumstances, I want us to provide them with the tools necessary to rise above their challenges."

Though she's on a tight leash, mom insists on watching the wedding video so, we brought the lunch meeting to a forced ending, and congregate in the main conversation area. "What are we going to do about Christian's birthday, it's the same day as the Gala," Grace says, as Christian lowers the blackout curtains.

"Nothing," Christian says, setting the remote on the side table.

I squirm in his lap. "No worries, I have a plan," I say, giddily

"No surprises."

I wiggle. "It's not your call."

He clamps down on my waist stilling me. "Stop moving or you're going to get a surprise," Christian says softly so only I can hear.

The video begins and the room grows silent. I lay my head on my husband's broad shoulder, reflecting on the last two months of our marriage. Despite the dire warnings, it is turning out to be the fairytale not the wedding.

Mia ribs her brother regarding the noticeable changes in his personality, but Christian is a different man. The wounded little boy in him has been exorcised replaced with a levity that is refreshing. It's like he's viewing the worlds through new lenses. The rose-colored ones, he borrowed from me. The old Christian was heavy handed with his amorous gestures leaving the intent up for interpretation. Today when he holds my hand, winks at me from afar in a crowded room, or stuff his fingers inside the back pocket of my jeans like we're high school sweethearts it is transparent. The romantic overtures are signs he loves me, and not of his ownership over me.

Christian plants a kiss on my jawline. "I feel it too. When I'm not watching, you sleep, I'm watching this," he whispers

"Your wedding video is heartwarming, but witnessing the love you two exude first-hand…" Choking up, Grace dabs her eyes.

"Hey, Ana, what's the story with Hannah. She's pretty," Mia says, livening the viewing party that's morphing into a wake. Snippets of Hannah grinning profusely, thinking pensively sitting alone at her table, and dancing freely flash on the screen enticing me upright. "Ethan was asking for a friend."

"She is a pretty girl," Grace says.

"Very," I reply.

"Does she have a boyfriend?" Mia asks

"Not yet- "

Mia laugh. "Not yet. You, do realize that was a yes no question- "

"I heard wonderful things about her from Christian. Is she auditioning to be your new best friend- "

"Mother. How cynical and she works for Ana."

"And?" Grace responds to her son, who is saved by his beeping phone.

"That was the Doorman. Caroline is here with the dresses. Your new laptop was delivered and he's sending it up with her," Christian says. I hop off his lap and he stands.

Mia rubs her palms together. "Whoo hoo new dresses. Wait. Why do you need a new dress?"

"I wanted something different for tomorrow," I say, harking back to the ugly words written about me in the press.

_Her first outing on the social scene and Mrs. Grey failed. In a bumble gum pink gown, drowning in pearl, and an illadvised bun on top of her head she looked like she was playing dress up in a sophisticated gathering of adults. If her ambition was to quash the chatter among Seattle's elite, she did the opposite-__ if anything it added to the lore. The debonair CEO married his teenage bride for the two B's and her brain isn't one of them._

He went on to write her ample bosoms, and round bottom for those of you still wondering. Christian saw blood, and was prepared to take his pound of flesh from the Journalist using his beautiful hands to rip the man to shreds. The Opinion Writer claimed it was an Op-Ed about the unrealistic goals society sets for our girls and not a hatchet job on me. Our lavish wedding was simply the impetus for his op-ed tittle _Breaking the grip Camelot has on Seattle._

I talked Christian out of doing bodily harm to the poor man or having him fired but by the time I read the inordinately flattering retraction Christian insisted the man write, I was rethinking the murder angle.

* * *

**The Next Day: Sunday**

"Wow."

I twirl for my husband. "You like?"

"Me. Love."

Playfully, I curtsy. "Thank you, monsieur."

I'd styled myself for the tonight's Gala. My make-up is minimal including a natural lip ala J-Lo, and my hair is a mop of everyday wavy tendrils. After months of consistent preening with high quality products, I'd concluded my hair and face were heathy canvasses that I could easily paint and manipulate into something resembling glamorous. If only selecting an outfit was as simple. I tried on couture dresses after couture dresses only to settle on the one fresh off the rack. In the end comfortability and forgivingness won out. The strapless ball gown with its umpire waist, clean lines, and two side pockets is something of a white rhino it is such a rare commodity. Piling on the goodness, the masterful tailoring, sumptuous material and ox blood red color makes it appear richer and more sophisticated than its humble status. I fell in love, if my style was subject to attacks at least I'd go down the best version of myself.

Christian's fist flies to his waist and I slide my arm through the oval he's created. "Purse."

"No, I have the essential right here." I slip my free hand into the adjacent side pocket.

"I've always contend you're were a natural beauty."

"Really. What explains the slew of make-up artists, hairdressers, and stylists you have at the ready."

"Their jobs are to pamper you not tinker with perfection."

"Your good Mr. Grey." I scour the room. "Where's Taylor.

"Tonight, we're going solo."

**"**Say what."

"My girl wants normalcy… I give her normalcy."

I give him a quick peck on the cheek, immediately erase the evidence of the light smudge with the dampen pad of my thumb. "You are the best husband," I say, "so, which car are you driving?"

"The R8-"

"Yours or mine?"

Christian calls for the elevator. "We'll flip a coin when we reach the garage."

"You don't have any coins."

He jiggles my pocket. "But you do," Christian says, reminding me of the loose change I'd mindlessly thrown into it and forgotten it was there. Smirking he gestures for me to enter the elevator first.

"Hold it." I empty the pocket, leaving a penny.

The R8 rolls up in front of the museum, and the valets' visibly drool. Their covetousness is understandable. The collection of shiny black steel, anthracite, and wide rim wheels, is sexy, sleek, and fast. The exact too cool for school descriptive that dissuaded me of my suitability to adjust the steering wheel less more drive it.

Soon as the engine dies, the dapper young men dressed in their Sunday best black suits flock. Christian demurs, and respectfully they stand down. Decked out in his custom made black tuxedo, all slick and lean, Christian pours out of the R8 like Texas crude mean while he extricates me from it like the name sake of the color of my dress. Helping me flatten the creases out of said dress, Christian protectively drapes his arm around my waist suggestively nesting his hand on my hip bone. Flashes going wild, he escorts me to the red carpet, and questions are hurled at us. Christian civilly responds to each with a canned no comment, including the ubiquitous who are you wearing.

Pausing at the end of the entryway to the ballroom, we scan the well-heeled crowd milling about. "Gee, I wasn't expecting this many people" I say, as a constant flow files past us.

"The event is the largest fund raiser of the year for the Arts. "Come, there's a couple I'm anxious for you to meet."

"Oh. Okay."

Easing his hand to my lower back, he touches my ear. "Plus, they donate a small portion of the funds to charities that support the Continent of Africa."

"That's generous. Does your charity receive any of the funding?" I inquire, as he ushers me closer to the hordes of people.

"No, I personally fund all my charities," he says, and the first of many belated congratulations is heaped on us.

We brave the well-wishers, halting in front of Bill and Melinda Gates, and I do a double take. "I'd like to introduce you to my wife Anastasia Grey," Christian says, to the royal couple of business. They extend their hands, and in a mortifying defining moment, my voice happens to fail me, at the same time my arms stay frozen at my side.

"Bill and I regret we couldn't attend your wedding. By all account, it was a lovely affair," Melinda says, artfully rescuing me from my awkwardness.

Given my proximity to Bill and Melinda Gates, the last thing I want to discuss is a topic as frivolous as my wedding. I want to delve into their brains. Here first hand, what I've read in books. How he started Microsoft, the legendary feud with Apple, and his dislike of Steve Jobs. Her, I want to hear how she's transformed herself into a brilliant entrepreneur and prolific philanthropist.

Eventually, our conversation falls into an easy groove, and I comfortably rattle off my questions. "Well, we don't want to monopolize your time, we're going to mingle and we'll let you do the same." Christian says. Inconspicuously he yanks on my hand, whisking me to a discreet corner, shoving me up against the wall. Quizzically I stare at him, and his tongue darts inside my mouth.

"What was that," I say, when he promptly releases me.

"Me reminding my wife how much I love and respect her. You held your own back there. It was sexy as hell."

"Give me a break, I clammed up."

"It was a blip, you recovered nicely."

I tilt my head to the side. "You do realize that shot will find its way onto the front pages tomorrow."

"In that case, let's give them something fit to print."

Giggling, I slam on his chest. "Hold it Tiger. That will suffice."

"You're no fun-" Cutting him off with my fingers, I clean up the lipstick smeared on his lips. "Better."

"Perfect."

"Come. I could use a cold glass of water."

"I'll meet you at the bar. I'm going to the restroom to reapply my lipstick."

Christian catches my wrist. "I'm coming with you"

"Christian that's silly. If I stretched my arms out, I could touch both places with my fingertips." I yank my arm from him. "I'll be fine," I say, scurrying away before he has time to protest.

Dashing inside the well-appointed lady's room, I plant myself in front of the long mounted mirror and speedily I apply more Chanel liquid lip color. Then I zoom out before my husband sends out a manhunt in my name.

"Yum. Your lips are tempting enough to kiss, " Christian says, hooking his arm around my torso when I join him at the bar.

"Don't you dare."

He chuckles. "I do dare, but you're in luck. A Senator just entered, I want to have an audience of one with." He nudges a glass of Ginger Ale closer to me. "Here you go. My water is here if you want some. I'll be right back." Kissing my hair, he struts away.

I lift the glass of fizzy ale, but a pungent odor churns my stomach and I plonk it on the bar. The liquid sloshes but doesn't tip over the side. "I thought that was you."

Combing my fingers in my hair, I rotate forward. "Sam."

"Bartender, I'll have what she's having."

"Ginger ale?" I say.

Her thin upper lip curls. "Rum. In mine. Please."

"Right on it," the bartender replies.

"Playing this virtuous woman thing to the hilt, aren't we? Celebrate. You've won." Her eyes fall on my ring. "I underestimated you."

"Did you shower in your perfume, because you wreak."

She knits her penciled in brows at me. "I thought it was you in the ladies' room, I wanted to offer you my condolences, but since the young woman wasn't encased in her dress like a sausage..." She picks at my bodice. "Perhaps the boxy silhouette is an explanation for the sudden nuptial." The bartender slides her drink to in front of her. "

"You can't deal with the truth. He loves me. Get over it."

Stirring her drink with the tip of her fake nail, Sam sizes me up. "I've racked my brain as to why a man of Christian's stature would choose a clueless, plain Jane simpleton like you. And it's not the tits and ass, he had access to those in spades. Regardless I'm heartened. You'll mess it up." Dragging her pointy finger out of the alcoholic concoction, she taps it to her unflattering cakey carnation pink lips. "You're stupid. Young. It's in your teenage nature." Sam presses her palm to her chest. "It's why I carry sympathy for you."

"So, that's what you're hanging your hair clips on. One misstep by me and you'll weasel your way back in. Have at it. He'll just throw you out on your kiester. Again."

"Kiester? How folksy." A dismissive humph sailing through her lips, Sam combs her fingers through her platinum blonde hair from the root to the tip. "If I didn't have such utter disdain for you, I'd find you charming."

"And if you weren't a bitter old bag, your Botox would work wonders on the frown lines around your mouth and on your forehead. And since we're playing the if game. If I were you, I'd disappear before Christian found me." The words leave my mouth, as I eye Christian pushing grown men to the side like match sticks

"Baby." Breathing hard, he throws his arm around me. "Are you alright."

"Hello, Christian." Sam flicks her wiry blond hair over her shoulders, giving Christian an unobstructed view of her plunging neckline, but desperate act is wasted.

"Why the fuck are you talking to my wife?"

"My God Christian, I was congratulating her."

He cranes his neck getting in her face. "Mr. Grey to you. Listen and you listen closely. Just because I made it possible for you to accept this job, doesn't mean I won't take it away."

"Dually noted," Sam says, "Mrs. Grey as I was saying, you're glowing, perhaps you have more breaking news." Christian glances from Sam to me.

I run my fingers along his lapel. "Don't let her ruin our evening. Did you have any luck with the Senator?"

"I did. So, we can leave- "

"Ridiculous. Stay for the dinner and dancing. I personally oversaw the entertainment."

"I've seen who I wanted to see, and made a generous donation."

"Well then on behalf of the Foundation let me be the first to thank you for the generous donation and your continued support." Sam raises her glass.

"Fuck you." Apply pressure to my lower back, he guides me away from the carnage, and I gloat at Sam withering like the wicked witch.

"Give me a second." Hiking up the hem of my dress, I sprint to the ladies' room. "Sorry about that," I say.

"What just happened."

"Sam's perfume…" I slide my arm in his. "Don't worry about it. Let's get out of here."

The R8 is delivered to us. Christian helps me in and he climbs inside. "Are you sure, you're alright? Sam didn't do more to hurt you than assault you with her perfume."

Lolling my head to the side, I gaze at him. "Honestly, I'm surprise we don't run into them more often."

"If them is a reference to my subs, Sam was never a submissive." Christian floors the R8, and we're in the wind before I can dive into the loaded statement. "Hey, we're home."

"What in the world…"

"You fell asleep." Christian says, fingering the bangs off my forehead. "I'm not relenting on a second opinion. Your energy level is too low."

"Then do something about it."

Anchoring a forearm to my head rest, Christian reaches in front of gathering the voluminous fabric until it's pooling around my waist. His hand slithers underneath the waistband of my panties, and he pushes two fingers inside me. "Is this what you need baby?"

"Aha." Moaning my pleasure, I sink into the bucket seat, as he widens his fingers, stretching me. Adding a third finger he coaxes my hips from the comfort of the seat and a guttural moan from my throat.

His fingers probe my walls, as the pad of his thumb rubs against the tip of my clitoris. Withdrawing the fingers, Christin manipulates the slick bundle of nerves between his forefinger and index finger. My body quivering my nails dig into the supple leather as the other hand flies to the door handle. "Come for me baby," Christian says, increasing his pressure on my clit.

The tryst in the car has done nothing to stem our ferocious craving. Trying to consume each other, we stumble out of the elevator, crashing into a dumb giant sculpture Gia Mateo recently placed there in the line of the escalator.

We guffaw. "We have to move that thing," I mumble into his mouth.

"Or use it," Christian says, as my back careens with the intricately carved piece of art work. The blunt details poke me, but Christian's hands roaming my curves and his tongue fondling my tonsils dulls the discomfort to a nuisance.

Inspired by his sexual benevolence, I tap into the strength earned from my intense yoga workouts, and I top from the bottom. I manage to overpower him. Mildly stunned, Christian gapes at me as I press my body into his. "Mr. Grey, relax and enjoy..." I sink to my knees, and his head drops back to the rounded edges of the sculpture. Unzipping his trouser, I root out his stiff member, and as my tousled waves veil my face I sheath him with my mouth. Soft whimpers drizzling from his lips Christian's hands slide in my hair pushing me even further down on his length.

The veins on his erection pulsating, he holds my head down on him filling my mouth as his ragged growls erupt from his core. "Fuck." Christian pants.

"Hmm." Cleaning my mouth with the back of my hand, slowly I rise and stagger towards the million points of light winking at me in the mysterious night.

"Where are you going."

"To the window."

Retrospectively, I revere at the particles seen and unseen levitating in the black velvet abyss, and I'm besieged by Christian's arms coiling around my waist. "You are an addiction." Pandering to his inflamed words, and heated breath against my skin, I tilt my head to one side. He saturates my neck, with butterfly kisses in the way Gomez bestowed them upon Morticia in _The Addams Family_ movie. His heady tonic still on my lips, I run my tongue over the drop as the slits in my eyes remain trained on the expansive glass appraising the shadow reflecting in it. The lack of delineation in our physical being is in diametrical opposition to the expanding chasm lies and secrets have bored into our metaphysical bond.

My arm snaps back cradling the top of his head in the bend of my elbow. "I love you so much... Please don't ever leave me..." My voice is flat, as it strains to bounce off the window, and echo in a space as cavernous as the Grand Canyon.

Christian braces his chin on my forearm. "I'd no more chop off my feet than leave you. How could I, you're my high-"

"Christian…" The words lodge in my throat providing me with an opportunity to course correct. It was a defining moment, a second chance for me to get it right- do it the right way this time. Wrenching my eyes from the window I nudge my shoulder. He jostles and I head to the bedroom.

"Where are you going now."

I wheel around. "I… have… something… to show you." In the excitement, I jumble my words. "Just wait here." When I return, Christian has lost his tuxedo jacket, his bow tie is draping casually around his neck, and he's working on his cufflinks. "Congratulations Mr. Grey." Beaming, I hand him the surprise. "We're having a baby."


End file.
